


Soul Remnants

by andrhars



Series: Souls Trilogy [2]
Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: The Ocarina of Time
Genre: A whole new land to wreak havoc in, Airships!, F/F, F/M, M/M, Magic, Non-Graphic Rape/Non-Con, Political Intrigue, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-13
Updated: 2020-01-13
Packaged: 2021-02-27 16:13:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 10
Words: 578,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22240003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andrhars/pseuds/andrhars
Summary: The fates once again conspiring against them, Link and Sheik are swallowed up in a power struggle in a foreign land, and they are forced to pick a side and fight for their lives. But will they pick the right one? Sequel to Soul Mates.
Relationships: Link/Sheik, OCs/Ocs, Zelda/femaleOC
Series: Souls Trilogy [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1599988
Comments: 1
Kudos: 5





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> **  
> So, this is the sequel to Soul Mates, taking place some time after the first fic. This is where I decided to plan a little more carefully ahead, which I think resulted in a more coherent and less random storyline. I'd also set an arbitrary lower limit on the words I could have per chapter, which resulted in fewer chapters overall, but they're all longer. Still have to shove them into "big" chapters on AO3 thanks to ff.net's continued refusal to make exporting stories easy.**
> 
> **I'd also started watching/reading Game of Thrones at the time, and my inner author got a little bloodthirsty, which resulted in a higher body count among the named characters.**
> 
> **And because I can never let an idea go when it strikes me, a certain character makes an (to Sheik) unwelcome return.  
> **  
> 

_Laughter echoed through the shadowed hallways, bouncing off the bare stone walls, surrounding him, creeping into his ears and reverberating, the pitch and volume rising ever higher for every second. His legs were like lead, heavy and unwieldy, keeping him moving at a snail's pace. It was hard to breathe, the air thick, smelling and tasting faintly of smoke. It filled his lungs, but refused to leave, leaving him gasping and heaving as he desperately tried to displace it. There was nowhere to go. Every bend, every intersection revealed only more identical walls and hallways. There was no roof, but he could not climb out because of his legs, which seemed to melting._

" _ **Where are you going, little one?"**_

_More laughter, accompanied by footsteps behind him. He tried to run, but his now useless legs tripped him up and made him crash to the tiled floor. It was covered in a thin film of water, soaking his front from head to toe. Fingers scrambling for purchase, he slowly pulled himself forward, his heart beating wildly at the voice that was following him. It couldn't be. Not him. Not now!_

" _ **You belong to me, remember?"**_

_Away. Away. He had to get away! His legs finally decided to cooperate with him again, and he stumbled to his feet, rounding a bend and running like a madman into the shadows that seemed to grow darker and darker with each passing second. He looked back. A humanoid shape was following him, a mere suggestion of a presence in the darkness._

" _ **Do you remember this place?"**_

_The floor disappeared from under his feet, sending him spinning and rotating through the open air, unable to see anything. He slammed into the tiled floor yet again, the air knocked out of his lungs. He gasped, trying to draw breath, raising his head to look around. More tiles. Tiled walls, all around him, but no hallways in sight. A large room, with four big square pillars placed in a roughly quadratic shape...a steel ladder! He hobbled towards it, hands reaching out. A few feet left... And nothing. The ladder was not real, merely painted onto the wall._

" _ **You are smarter than this."**_

_The voice was behind him still. He slowly turned around, expecting to come face to face with the horror that was following him...but there was nothing there._

" _ **You have much blood on your hands."**_

_Blood. His hands were covered in it. No, he hadn't killed anyone! Not now! Light erupted from across the enclosure, a tiny dot of brightness resting close to the wall. He stumbled to it, seeing the outline of a small person...with wings... No, no, no, not here!_

" _ **Turn around."**_

_He didn't want to, but the words were said with such force, such longing that he felt a compulsion to do so. The shape was standing a few feet away from him, its features slowly growing solid. The feet, the legs, the torso, the arms, the head, the face, the eyes...twin red orbs, staring at him, gazing into his very soul. A fiendish grin spread on its face._

" _ **I've missed you, my love..."**_

_He screamed. **  
**_

* * *

"Sheik, are you okay?"

It took him several seconds before he realised who the voice belonged to, and several additional seconds before he made himself open his eyes. The Hero of Time was gazing worriedly down at him, his blue eyes shining in the light from their campfire. Sheik's breath was coming in and out of him in hurried gasps, his heart thumping painfully against his ribs and he was drenched with sweat. His eyes were wet, reflecting the panic he'd felt in the nightmare.

"I'm...I'm fine," Sheik finally said, wiping away the tears that were threatening to spill and sitting up, tossing off the now-soaked blanket. His bedroll was just as wet, and cooling rapidly as it came into contact with the cool night air. He shivered as the air his naked skin as well. He quickly found his discarded clothing in a backpack next to his bedroll and pulled them on. The thin shirt and shorts—wonderful for travelling through the warm summer days—did little to keep out the cold, but he couldn't waltz around camp naked either. He had a sense of decency, after all.

"You don't look fine," Link said quietly, mirroring Sheik's movements as he pulled on his clothes. After pulling on his tunic, he went over to Sheik and stopped him from pulling out his weapons. "Hey, relax, we're safe here. There aren't any bandits in the area...hell, I don't think there's _anyone_ in this area but us."

Sheik pulled out of the Hero's grip and pulled out his belt of daggers anyway. "No harm in being prepared," he said before slowly circling the camp's perimeter. His night vision was ruined by the campfire, but he could still see better in the dark than most other people. Any second now, he expected to see a pair of glowing, red eyes staring back at him...

Link sighed, seating himself by the fire, looking exasperatedly at his lover. "How many times are we going to do this? You have a nightmare, you wake up, and you get paranoid and think we're being followed...the war is over, Sheik. Why is it so hard for you to realise that?"

 _Ask my subconscious,_ Sheik thought. His heart was finally slowing down, reaching a somewhat acceptable level of activity. Every now and then, it skipped a beat, warning him that he was lucky to still be alive. There was no one out there. He shook his head, ashamed of himself, ashamed that he could get so easily spooked. He sat down next to Link, and the Hero wrapped an arm around him, pulling him close.

"It was _him_ again, wasn't it?" Link asked with bitterness in his voice. "He's still haunting you after all this time..."

Sheik nodded silently, unable to get the image of the red eyes out of his head. It had seemed so real. The voice, the pool...it had been a poor rendition of the inner sanctum of the Water Temple at Lake Hylia. It was just a dream. Why hadn't he seen through it? Nightmares just didn't happen to him. They _didn't_.

"Well, he's dead," Link continued, poking at the fire with a stick held in his free hand. It quickly turned into stabbing as he undoubtedly remembered what his shadow had done. To him, to Sheik, to everyone... "He's dead, and he's not coming back. Good riddance."

 _If only it was that easy,_ Sheik thought. Speil was physically dead, yes, but his...presence was still keenly felt by Sheik every time he thought about him. He felt the sting in his chest, remembered the sensation of having the shadow's sword running him through...he remembered _dying_ in the Forest Temple. And the dreams...they simply wouldn't stop.

They had started to come to him a few weeks after they had left Hyrule behind, and they had never stopped. Every now and then, he was given a few nights' respite, but otherwise...six damn months with nothing but nightmares. He was exhausted all the time. They both were, but Link never showed it.

A horse snorted. Epona, Maladict and Shun were all sleeping just outside camp, their barely visible forms swaying in the dark. Now that was a bunch of creatures that could sleep through a hurricane. Sheik envied them, right then. Not even his rummaging around had bothered them.

"Come on, let's go back to sleep," Link said, pulling Sheik back to their bedrolls—on _his_ bedroll, to be exact. "Tomorrow we'll reach the border to Lumina. I bet we can find a decent inn somewhere to rest for a while."

With Link's strong arms around him, Sheik felt—contrary to logic—marginally safer. Who wouldn't, considering the fact that he had almost single-handedly ended a seven-year war? He yawned, fatigue overtaking him. _Maybe I'll actually sleep this time,_ he thought as he closed his eyes, calmed by the Hero's steady breathing.

* * *

The basement beneath the castle was cold and damp. The stench of mould and fungi hung in the air. I t felt like it covered his tongue, offending several senses at once. He had almost slipped and fallen down the stairs leading to the lowest level of the catacomb-like passageways down here. Hell, two inches to the left and he'd had broken his neck. A forgotten bear-trap—most likely set up during a past invasion—had almost claimed his foot, and by the time he smashed his head into a low doorframe, he'd had just about enough of this place.

And yet he walked on, torch in hand, following the instructions he'd been given by the old man. Why they didn't just have this meeting in one of the many chambers upstairs was beyond him, but he'd accepted because...well, it broke up the monotony. And he'd never been in this part of the castle anyway, so there was always the exploration factor. Why had he never come down here as a child?

He passed by a row of prison cells—all that remained of the old dungeons—along with what seemed to be a rotten rack, another ghastly reminder of the kingdom's darker past. With the pace at which things were progressing, he wouldn't be surprised if a rack was once again introduced to the newer dungeons.

He finally reached the door the old man had been talking about. Unlike the other doors down here, which were fall falling apart with decay, this one was surprisingly intact, protected from the rot by some sort of...he had no idea what it was, but it shimmered in the light from the torch.

"Right," he said quietly to himself. "Knock quickly three times, then slowly two times, quickly another three and slowly four..." He did so, wincing when the sound echoed through the corridors and hallways. He wasn't supposed to be down here. No one was. But this was for the best of everyone.

He jumped when the door swung open without a sound. There was no one on the inside, only another dark corridor. The door had opened by itself. Slowly, nervously, he made his way inside, realising that another staircase—stone, very sturdy—waited for him behind a corner.

He could hear voices now. Talking, laughing, cursing. There was another open door at the bottom of the stairs, from which light spilled, making the light from his torch seem pitiful by comparison. The voices grew louder as he approached the doorway. He peeked inside.

This room was warm and dry, a stark contrast to the rest of the basement around it. The floor here was not mouldy stone, but fine, white sand. Torches lined the walls, illuminating the entire room save for the upper part of the high ceiling. A large, round table had been set up in the middle of it, on which an oil lamp was shining brightly—too brightly for a naked flame. Three people—two men and a woman—sat around the table, deep in conversation. Then one of them noticed him.

"Ah, there we have our saviour," said the old man. "Prince Victor himself."

Victor stepped into the room fully, feeling childish. He had just done the same thing he did as a child when being introduced to one of his father's friends—peeking shyly around doorways. He was an adult now, twenty-two years of age, and heir to the kingdom. He couldn't act like a child!

"Lady, gentlemen," he said, clearing his throat. "You wished to speak with me?"

"Why so formal, Victor?" said Councillor Rehm, his face wrinkling with delight at seeing him. "I have known you since you were but a newborn child. Surely you can still think of me as your uncle?"

"I'm sorry, Rehm," Victor said, trying to hide a grin. "But you seemed so serious when asking me to join you and...and..." he trailed off, realising that he had no idea who the other two were.

"Ah, allow me to introduce you to two very dear friends of mine," Rehm said, standing up. "This lovely sight next to me," he said and gestured to the woman, "is Lady Marlotta, countess of Urne."

Lady Marlotta stood up, curtsying. She was a serious-looking, middle-aged woman of obviously noble background—hence the title, Victor supposed—whom he now remembered seeing sometimes when his father held court. "Your highness," she said, her voice a low purr, "'tis an honour."

"The honour is all mine, Countess," Victor replied, bowing.

"And this bastard here," Rehm continued, pointing to the other man, "is General Agon, whom I'm sure you've seen several times at the head of your father's army."

"Your highness," the general said, snapping a sharp salute.

"General," Victor said, not remembering his face at all, which was covered in scars from who knew how many weapons. There were more scars than there was face. Was he the one who always wore his helmet with the visor down? He certainly had a good reason...

Victor looked at Rehm. "Surely you did not invite me down here to introduce me to your friends?"

"Certainly not, Victor," Rehm said, still smiling. "Though I have a feeling that _my_ friends will soon be _your_ friends as well. Please, take a seat." Marlotta and Agon both sat down along with Victor, but Rehm remained standing. "Victor, we are facing a great threat."

"We?" Victor asked.

"We. You, I, the people, the kingdom," Rehm said. "And I believe you know what it is."

"Rehm, I'm not here to play guessing games," Victor said, already disliking the sound of this. He supposed he should have been sceptical when he was asked to come down here in the first place, but his damn curiosity had taken control of him once again. "Just tell me."

"Ah, straight to the point, I like that," Rehm said, beginning to pace around the table. "Very well, I will put it to you plainly: Lumina is a sinking ship. This kingdom cannot sustain itself any longer. The capitol may not see this, with its pristine towers and golden stairways, but the other cities are falling apart. The people are starving; some have taken to becoming highwaymen and preying on traders, whom we rely on to sell our wares. We are in debt to every country we share borders with, we are militarily weak, especially now with General Mirn and his forces helping to rebuild Hyrule, which was shattered in a recent civil war."

Victor had heard about that. According to scouting reports, the war had gone on for almost a decade, only ending recently with half the kingdom in ruins and thousands upon thousands of people homeless. Details on the nature of the war itself were scarce, but a Gerudo king had apparently orchestrated a coup of sorts. "I think it's a good thing that we are helping them," he said.

"While humanitarian efforts are always noble," Rehm said, his smile completely gone now, "I find it unwise when we might find ourselves embroiled in a civil war of our own very soon."

"What?!"

"My prince, if I may," Lady Marlotta said, leaning forward, exposing a very impressive cleavage despite her age. "Whispers have started of rebellion in my province. I am doing my best in quelling any dissidents with my forces, but the whispers are spreading. Soon, it will be beyond my control."

"I can confirm that, Your Majesty," General Agon chimed in. "Just a few weeks ago, my men encountered a rebel camp of sorts. Forty strong men, all preparing to attack one of the king's tax collectors. We eliminated them swiftly, but judging by notes, maps and letters we found among their belongings, it seems that this is happening all over Lumina."

"But...why?" Victor asked, already knowing the answer. His father was a weak king. Anyone could see that. Instead of prioritising developing and improving the lives of his subjects, the king was busy impressing his nobles by throwing lavish feasts, having vast war machines built and then discarding them when they had outlived their usefulness as party tricks. The coffers were running dangerously low, which was affecting the people. And the ever-present threats from their neighbours, who demanded their loans repaid.

"You already know, Victor," Rehm said kindly. "Your father...has done nothing positive since the day he took the throne, and if he is allowed to go on like this...Lumina will fall, either to her neighbours or to her own people. As councillor, and the advisor to the royal family, I cannot allow this to go on any longer, and neither should you."

"What...what would you have me do, then? Depose my own father? I cannot do that!"

"You are the prince of Lumina, Victor," Rehm said, scratching nervously at his bald scalp. "Sworn by the Enlightened One to protect and uphold the values He decreed so long ago. I understand your love for your father, but your duty is ultimately to your lands, to your people...to the Enlightened One."

Victor stood up abruptly. "I could have you arrested for this, you know. All of you. Tried, convicted and executed as traitors to the crown!"

"Yet, you will not," Rehm said calmly. "Because you know in your heart that I am speaking the truth. You may not wish for it to be so, but wishes cannot change reality."

"And how do you know the people won't rebel if I take the throne?" Victor asked, unable to understand why he was even entertaining the thought. "How will my usurping of the throne appease them?"

"We do not know," Agon said, clenching his fists. "But we do know for certain that by the time your father realises that something must be done, the kingdom will be lost."

"Please, Victor," Rhem said imploringly. "For the sake of Lumina, at least consider what we have said. Your choice will decide the future of this kingdom."

Victor left the three in the basement, trudging through the basement, the words echoing through his head...

* * *

**Soul Remnants**

**Chapter 2**

* * *

The sun was rising over the hills to the east as they set out from their temporary camp. They emerged from the forest and entered a vast, grassy plain that stretched on for miles upon miles ahead of them. Heading west, Sheik anticipated that they'd reach the vast mountain range that cut Lumina off from the rest the world in a few days, after which they'd most likely be forced to leave Epona, Maladict and Shun behind until they found a trail that would lead them across. Trying to reach one of the few passes that allowed easy access to the kingdom could take weeks, if not months, and that would simply not do. Not that they were going to risk an unsafe trail, of course.

Sheik took one last look at the map, checked their course with the compass for the final time and put them away in his pack. Link rode up to his side, giving him an amused look.

"Are you really _that_ worried about getting us lost?" the Hero asked, grinning.

"Do you wish to flounder about on this plain for weeks on end?" Sheik countered, smiling back. "In case you haven't noticed, we're running low on supplies, and there is little prey to hunt out here. Of course, we can feast on insects and other crawling creatures, but they are far from…tantalising."

"Yuck, no thanks!" Link said. "So, that way, then?" he asked and pointed straight ahead. There was nothing but grass to be seen, but it was indeed the right direction. Sheik nodded, and Link grinned again. "So...race ya?"

Sheik shook his head. "I don't know...we've got a long day ahead of us, and the horses—"

"Hiya!"

Link and Epona were already yards ahead, the Hero urging his steed on. Shun was hot on their heels, not about to let her mother prove who's the faster. Sheik could only shake his head and sigh. Maladict snorted and did the same, obviously agreeing with his sentiment.

"Bloody hot-heads," Sheik whispered and dug his heels into Maladict's sides, and they charged after the three.

Several hours later, with the sun high in the sky, they decided to take a break. The air was sweltering, and the humidity felt like it could kill you, and there were no trees or other sources of shade in sight. The sensible thing would be to keep going until they found some shade, but there was no arguing with the Hero (ex-Hero, perhaps) of Time.

"Just for a few minutes, alright? My butt is so sore," Link said, blushing when Sheik gave him a little grin at the unfortunately worded phrase. He wiped his sweat-covered face with a cloth from his pack and drank deeply from his waterskin.

"You may want to go easy on that," Sheik said, taking a small sip from his own. "We don't know when we will find another source of water." He ignored Link's scowl and retrieved a deep bowl from Maladict's saddlebag. He filled it with water and gave each of the horses a full bowl.

"Sheik, you're giving them more water than you drink yourself," Link said, sounding disapproving. He sat on the ground, gazing at the clear blue sky.

"They're bigger than me," Sheik said, patting Shun on her back. "And they do most of the work."

"Fair enough," Link said, patting Epona. "Though I've got a feeling Epona and Shun can just magically disappear and find water on their own if we let them." He took out a small, brown ocarina from his pocket. It was clearly made for a child rather than an adult, but Link was still able to play it skilfully despite his larger fingers. "And I could probably get them back with this just as easily." With that said he put the mouthpiece to his lips and blew. The serene notes of Epona's Song drifted from the instrument, wrapping the travellers in a cocoon of music. Sheik felt tempted to retrieve his lyre from the saddlebag, but refrained. He enjoyed playing music with Link, but he enjoyed listening to the Hero's playing even more.

Link was what one would call a natural talent, at least at wind instruments. With strings...he did not do so well, which was why he had decided to stop learning the lyre from Sheik after breaking well over forty strings. But with the ocarina, he was extremely talented and could wring sounds and melodies that even the most experienced player could not, Sheik was sure. Link had earned quite a bit of money by busking in one of the larger cities a month or so back. Sheik had accompanied him, but he had a feeling it was the Hero everyone donated to.

Sheik didn't mind stopping for this. Besides, the horses enjoyed it too; though that was no big surprise considering the title of the song Link was currently playing. Shun in particular was always thrilled whenever it was played.

The Hero let the last note ring out before lowering the ocarina. He had received it from Saria, the Sage of the Forest Temple and his childhood friend, and after the Ocarina of Time had cracked in half he reverted to using it. He called it the Fairy Ocarina. He smiled at Sheik. "I love the way your eyes glaze over when you enjoy something," he said.

Sheik rolled his eyes, knowing fully well what he was talking about...and hating it. He was a highly trained spy, assassin and warrior, was supposed to be in control of himself at all times. But music...well, that was something that could always seize him, hold him in its enchanting grip. But he loved it all the same, despite the risks he sometimes took when listening.

Just as he was about to answer with a sarcastic remark regarding the Hero's own glazed look during certain...enjoyable activities, a sharp cry echoed across the plains, so shrill that it went through to their bones. They shared a look—and smiled, looking up.

Far above them, the unmistakeable shape of a falcon was rapidly descending in a circular pattern, bearing down on them as if it was hunting them. Acting quickly, Sheik quickly wrapped some cloth around his uncovered lower arm and held it out. With another cry, the falcon was upon them, giving Sheik's head the barest of clips with its wings before levelling out and setting itself on his arm. He winced as Kaiza's talons dug through the cloth and into the skin of his arm.

"Well now, that was quite a show," he said, staring firmly back at Kaiza, who was glaring. "And you're angry. Wonderful."

"She probably had a tough time finding us out here," Link said, reaching out to pet her. Kaiza would have none of this, however, and nipped at his fingers. "Whoa!" the Hero exclaimed, withdrawing his limb lest he wished to lose some digits.

"She's a messenger," Sheik said, "it is her job to find people, no matter where they are. She is being difficult just for the hell of it."

"Just like you sometimes, then," Link said.

"Ha- _ha_." Sheik carefully removed the cylinder on Kaiza's back, noting that it would be a longer message than usual this time. How the falcon was able to fly with the bloody thing weighing her down amazed him. He opened it and retrieved the roll of paper within. It bore no seal, but the neat and beautiful handwriting revealed the sender. He smiled.

"Is it from Zelda?" Link asked. Kaiza, sensing her burden easing considerably, relocated to Maladict's Saddle, where she appeared to take a nap.

"It is," Sheik confirmed, scanning the lines.

_**Dear Sheik and Link,** _

_**I am thrilled to hear that you are enjoying your travels and I hope to the Goddesses that you are doing your utmost to stay out of trouble, though I admit that would be quite difficult considering that you are...well, you.** _

_**The rebuilding is still going quite slowly, but we are making a lot more progress with the help of our friends than we would be if we were working alone. Life has returned to Hyrule fully now, and we are finally able to grow our own food again rather than relying on other nations, which is a welcome relief to the treasury. Aveil and her warriors have also managed to clear out the infestation in their home (with a little help from our own forces), and they quite glad to be able to return to the desert, as you can imagine. I cannot imagine why they would want to return to such an inhospitable land myself, but there is no place like home, as they say. I will miss her greatly, even though she has promised to stay in contact.** _

_**Zora's Fountain has been completely restored to its former glory as well, though the Zora seem quite keen to experience the rest of the world as well.** _

_**The Gorons have yet to return to their mountain, saying they are quite happy to help us with the heavy lifting.** _

_**I received a letter from Kaura, which was both troubling and assuring in the way only** _ **she** _**can make them. There has been some sort of disaster in Termina, the details of which she glossed over quite a bit, but some sort of...meteor struck their capitol city. It was completely destroyed, including her home. Her reaction to this was apparently just a shrug, after which she hounded her apprentices into the nearest relief camp to help the wounded. How that woman keeps going is beyond me, and I feel privileged to have studied under her, even for such a short while. Oh, and she also told me to tell you to, and I quote: "Stay the hell away of my home; you'll just make it worse!" I think that was her way of saying she misses you. Tao and the others send their greetings as well.** _

_**Anyway, now I am just rambling, and I do apologise. I am quite glad to hear you are going to Lumina, as that gives you the opportunity to thank the king from me personally. The day after you left, I sent out several messengers Hyrule's allies, notifying them of the end of the war. The king of Lumina, Robar XI, and my father were once as close friends as kings can get, and he honoured the friendship by sending one of his battalions, led by General Mirn, to help us in our efforts. Their help has been immeasurable, and while I cannot go there in person, I would like you to deliver my thanks in my stead. I have already informed him of your coming, and he will be expecting you. Do try to behave while at his court. You are, after all, representing me.** _

_**Take care, both of you, and enjoy yourselves. And remember to pay a visit to me if you are in the area.** _

_**-Zelda.** _

_**PS: Sheik, the reply will follow the usual procedure.** _

Sheik smiled; glad to be updated on the situation at home, though he did not like the sound of the disaster in Termina. The loss of life must have been immeasurable, and he wondered if that certain someone had survived...he supposed he ought to send a letter to Kaura and ask her to find out at a later date. He looked at the last part again.

 _Usual procedure, eh?_ He thought, thumbing at the corners of the paper the message was written on. Sure enough, there it was; an extra edge. He gave Link a quick glance. The Hero was brushing Epona's mane, content with letting Sheik read the message first. Quickly, he removed the second, much thinner piece of paper from the first message, folding it and putting it in his pack. Link didn't need to know about this, he told himself.

"Your turn," he said, handing the letter to Link, who nearly tore it out of his grasp in his hurry to read it. He was very much interested in seeing what the other letter said. The phrase Zelda had written, while seemingly quite ordinary, was actually a code. A code which had been used quite a bit during the early stages of the war, revealing the presence of a second message. Usually, it was hidden in the first message itself, but Zelda had elected to use a second paper this time. Strange.

"Huh," Link said after reading the letter. "Lots of stuff going on at home."

"Mhm," Sheik said, retrieving a small piece of raw meat from their supplies and feeding it to Kaiza, who blearily swallowed it before lapsing back into sleep. _Poor girl must have exhausted herself flying here_ , he thought.

"And Kaura's being Kaura, as usual," Link commented. "You know, I think sending Tao and the others with her was a mistake..."

"How could we possibly have known about the disaster?" Sheik asked. "It was for the best. Besides, she wouldn't expose them to something she doesn't think they can't handle." That was a guess on his part, but he had faith in the angry physician.

"I hope you're right," the Hero said, wiping his face yet again. "We should probably get going, I'm gonna die if we stay here any longer."

"You're right," Sheik agreed. They quickly packed up and were soon galloping across the plains again, both of them thankful for the cool breeze created by the air rushing by. Sheik felt a bit silly, however, since he had to hold the slumbering Kaiza in front him in the saddle so she wouldn't fall off.

By nightfall, Sheik's estimations had them about halfway across the plain. Another day of travel, and they would reach the mountains. They were making great time.

As they ate by the fire, Link kept glancing at Sheik, which was unnerving the Sheikah by the time he caught Link for the fifteenth time.

"Is something wrong?" he asked after swallowing a mouthful of ham.

Link looked away, embarrassed. "Nothing," he said. "You just...look so beautiful by the firelight."

It was flattering, sure, but Link was horrible at disguising his concerns. "Somehow, I believe you are not telling me the full story," he said.

Link looked unsure for a few seconds, but his obsessive need to be honest, a trait Sheik loved in him but also sometimes worried about, compelled the Hero to speak the truth. "I'm worried about you."

"Why?" Sheik asked, knowing exactly what Link was talking about.

"I...it's just...you keep having these nightmares," the Hero said, looking at him sadly. "You wake up in a cold sweat, panicked, acting like we're being stalked...it's like you can't let go of the war."

Sheik dropped his gaze to the fire, staring at the shadows dancing in the flames, the fire spirits. He had no idea if his aunt had joking when she told him about the pixies, but he didn't care. "Forgetting...and letting go of seven years of fighting is difficult," he said. "Especially...the later events."

He couldn't see the Hero, but he knew that Link was nodding, remembering. In some ways, Link had had it easy. He hadn't been forced to go through seven years of hell, watching as Ganondorf destroyed everything he held dear. No, the Hero of Time had slept through it all, emerging from the Temple of Time during the latter stages of the war, when all hope was seemingly lost. He had turned the tide quickly, yes, and while what he saw in that period of time was horrible, it was nothing compared to what everyone else had seen. Sheik was quite sure that Zelda was experiencing nightmares as well...though perhaps without a certain red-eyed intruder.

Not that it was Link's fault, of course. He hadn't chosen to be drawn into the Sacred Realm and kept in hibernation until he was old enough to fight properly. But even so...Sheik envied him his ability to forget it all and sleep soundly.

He didn't voice these thoughts, but he had a feeling Link understood it anyway, for he did not press the issue. Instead, he drew Sheik into a tight embrace. A few hours later, Link yawned loudly and declared he was going to bed and invited Sheik to join him.

"You go ahead," Sheik said, tending to the fire. "I'm not that tired yet."

Link was too tired to argue, and he was snoring loudly five minutes later. Making sure the Hero wasn't going to wake up from anything less than a bomb going off next to his head, Sheik pulled out the second letter. The paper it was written on was extremely thin, almost translucent, and it was impossible to read by the firelight unless held at a very specific angle.

No wonder Zelda had coded about this.

_**Sheik,** _

_**I know I freed you from your oath to the throne, but I have a mission for you. Should you decide to decline, I understand, but I cannot stress the importance enough, and I can only imagine you performing the task.** _

_**While I appreciate General Mirn and his men's presence and help, I cannot help but feel slightly suspicious. Lumina was extremely poor before our War broke out, and according to the information I've gained from Mirn, the kingdom has not made any economical recovery.** _

_**While it could very well be a gesture of friendship, the general's mission here, combined with the state of his homeland, seems too...unlikely.** _

_**I need you to find out if Robar has set his eyes upon Hyrule and means to conquer us. I know this seems distrustful of me, but my family has been fooled once before, and I have no intention of being shamed twice.** _

_**It is not an easy task, but I have utmost confidence in you. But I also want you to remember that I am not** _ **telling** _**you to do this. It is your choice whether or not you wish to accept the mission. If you choose to decline, I will find someone else to do it. Let me know your decision as soon as possible.** _

_**I love you, little brother.** _

_**-Zelda** _

Sheik read the message several times until he had memorised it and then threw it on the fire, where the thin paper was instantly incinerated. He sighed, knowing he should have expected something like this. Zelda was right to be suspicious with her kingdom in such a vulnerable state, and if the Luminan general had indeed been sent to do something less than friendly, their best bet to find out what was to go directly to the source. But how was Sheik supposed to do it?

 _I suppose I'll have to improvise,_ he thought as he laid down on his bedroll, next to Link's. He elbowed his lover in the side in order to stop his infernal snoring. The stars twinkled far above them, perfectly visible in the night sky.

 _Beautiful,_ he thought before he closed his eyes and drifted into sleep.

* * *

Victor watched through a spyglass as the airborne monstrosity glided to a halt above Lumina City, its bronze bodywork shining in the sun. He could hear the massive engines—a quiet, persistent drone down here—as they corrected the airship's angle in order to give most of the inhabitants of the city a dazzling view of their king's new toy.

Emblazoned on the side of the massive balloon—filled with some sort of volatile gas, surely—in massive letters was the name _The Chimera_. It was meant to be a clever name, reflecting the many purposes it could supposedly serve. Peacekeeper, warship, parade vehicle, summer home, pleasure barge...

That thing would probably provoke several nations to attack, Victor thought as he put the spyglass away, sighing. He was tired. He'd been unable to sleep at all last night, the conversation he'd had with Rehm, Marlotta and Agon echoing and reverberating in his head over and over again. Surely things could not be as bad as they said, could they? Lumina City was as splendorous as ever, with its shining gold roofs, marble streets and mechanical carriages. But they'd said that the surrounding towns and villages were in trouble...

He sighed again, wondering what to do. He'd meant to speak to his father that morning, but he had been too busy preparing for arrival of _The Chimera_ , and had brushed him off. Victor needed to know if what Rehm and the others had said was true. Only then could he make up his mind about the...situation.

The footsteps of someone wearing armour could suddenly be heard, and Victor turned around. He was standing on one of the many turrets of the royal castle, hoping that he'd get some privacy. So much for that, apparently. He was prepared to tell the newcomer to go away, but found a smile appearing on his face when he saw the familiar visage of Captain Rial Vortan appeared at the foot of the stairs.

"Your Majesty," he said, bowing deeply, which couldn't have been easy with the ceremonial armour he was wearing—a great, lumbering piece of equipment of polished silver and great, red velvet cloth—the traditional garb of the Royal Guard. His status as Captain of the Royal Guard also required him to wear a great, plumed helmet (which looked absolutely ridiculous), though he was carrying it under his arm. The captain was quite young for someone of his rank, having barely turned thirty a month ago, but he was already proving he was more than suited for the task. His hair, black as ebony, was meticulously trimmed and arranged in a style that, while behoving for a soldier, looked quite dashing. His face was handsome, though he retained a rather youthful look, making him appear much younger than he was. He looked at Victor with a smile that made his green eyes positively sparkle.

"Rial, don't do that when we're alone, please," Victor said, turning away in embarrassment. He'd known the captain since he was a regular soldier in the Guard, which was well over ten years ago. His father didn't approve of him having a friendship with a member of his lifeguard, but that had done little to dissuade his son from fraternising with him. "Call me by my name, please."

"That is hardly proper, Your Majesty," Rial said, ascending the small staircase. He stood next to Victor on the turret, gazing up at the airship. "Amazing, is it not?"

Victor frowned, recognising the serious tone in the captain's voice. "He asked for me, didn't he?"

"Not for another few minutes, but yes," Rial replied. "His Majesty wishes your presence at the dedication."

"What for? It's _his_ damn toy!"

"It is not my place to speculate, Your Majesty."

Victor looked at Rial, studying the older man's face. It was obvious that he had something he wished to say, but protocol, duty and obedience kept him from doing so. "What do you think about the airship, Rial?" he asked.

"It is a technical marvel, sire," Rial responded quickly. "A true wonder of the world. Enough cannons to reduce a moderately sized city to ashes, four hundred crew members, enough room to transport over five hundred soldiers, yet stylish enough to accommodate the royal family should they decide to visit it and travel in comfort."

"Rial..." Victor said, giving the captain a resigned look.

Rial sighed, nodding. "It's ugly, it's horrid and just as effective as a warship as a wagon missing three wheels, sire. It's a bloody waste of money; money which this kingdom does not have and could have been better spent on improving our infrastructure or paying off debts to our foreign allies." He was sweating at the end of the sentence, fighting his instinct which told him to stay quiet the entire time.

Smiling, Victor turned his head to look at the airship, which had started to drift towards the castle, towards the specially designed and built landing platform on the other side of the keep. That too had cost a fortune that Lumina didn't have. "Thank you, Rial. That's what I wanted to know."

Rial drew a sharp breath. "Your Majesty, I beg your forgiveness. It was not my place to—"

"Give it a rest, Rial," Victor interrupted him. "I appreciate your honesty and your friendship more than anything in this world. You can say anything to me." He turned towards the staircase, not looking forward to what awaited him inside the castle. "I suppose I should go dress for the occasion. I doubt Father would approve of me showing up in leather breeches." As his foot hit the last step, Rial cleared his throat.

"Sire, there's something I'd like to say..." He looked uncertain, skittish almost.

"What is it, Rial?" Victor asked.

"I...er...I...I'd like to—" He cut himself off as a servant appeared in the doorway by the stairs, already carrying whatever preselected outfit the prince was to wear for the ceremony.

"Rial?"

"Never mind, Your Majesty."

Victor hesitated. Rial never acted like this. Was it important? Did it pertain to what Rehm had said? If it was important, he'd tell him later, right? Nodding, he turned to the servant, who looked impatient. "As you wish, Rial. I shall see you at the ceremony."

"Yes, sire."

Rial was left alone, staring up at the massive hull of _The Chimera_ as it passed overhead, descending rapidly. One tiny little error in navigation, and that thing would take out the entire west wing. The captain groaned, wishing he had more courage.

* * *

**Soul Remnants**

**Chapter 3**

* * *

Victor hastily adjusted the dark red sash that crossed his black uniform, the chest of which was absolutely covered in various medals, most of whom he had no idea what were for. They simply came with the title, he supposed. He hurried down the hallway that would take him to the newly constructed landing pad on the back side of the castle, where the ceremony would take place. Two guards flanked him, their armour clinking loudly as the steel plates bumped into each other. Victor's boots—riding boots of black leather—clicked loudly on the marble floor, the echoes being absorbed by the tapestries and paintings on the walls. Outside, the sun was shining down on the gardens, bathing the large maze in enough heat to make the poor gardeners down there pass out.

He pulled at his high collar, which was chafing his neck, as he rounded a corner and became aware of a subtle hum that was steadily rising in volume, along with a definite tremor in the floor. It was going to _land_ here as well? Now?

He finally reached the large doors that led to what had once been the grand balcony (which now housed the landing pad instead) and threw them open. He almost yelped when the humming sound turned into a roar of engines that were struggling with keeping the leviathan of an airship steady as it descended upon the dock—and the people gathered there. Nobles of all statures had crammed into every possible nook and cranny of what remained of the balcony, looking up at _The Chimera_ as it touched down on the platform, causing another tremor to go through the castle.

Victor pushed through the crowd, the members of which quickly got out of his way, and joined his father on a small podium that had been set up on the very edge of the platform, facing the nobles.

King Robar XI, a thin, gangly-looking man of fifty-three, gave his son a look of disapproval as they waited for the noise from the engines to die down. He gave one of the ends of his carefully waxed moustache a small tug, a sign of annoyance, and then brushed his fingers through his slicked-back, coal-black hair. His pale, grey eyes stared into Victor's mismatched ones. They were wearing the same uniform (though the king's had even _more_ medals and trinkets, and his sash was a darker shade of red), but he looked far more intimidating than Victor could ever hope to achieve.

"You're late," he said above the noise. "You were supposed to be here fifteen minutes ago."

"I apologise, father," Victor said, unable to match his gaze, preferring to look at his boots. "I was…held up."

"By _him_ , no doubt," the king said, casting a glance at Rial, who had arranged his men in strategic positions around the balcony and was currently doing his very best not to look at them, it seemed. "I do wonder what you could possibly hope to gain from befriending a commoner…"

"He is our protector, is he not?" Victor asked, wanting to sound defiant, though he had a feeling he sounded more like a child that was being denied something he wanted. "I thought it best to get to know the man who may once be called upon to save my life."

"Hm," Robar said and turned his head to look at the audience as the final rumble faded. That meant he was done discussing the issue at the moment, but that he would certainly bring it up again later. The king fixed a brilliant, undoubtedly fake smile on his face and raised his arms. The nobles broke out in loud cheering and polite clapping, as if it had been the king himself who had set the machine down. "Friends, my friends!" he shouted over their voices, waiting for them to finally go quiet before speaking again. "For centuries, Lumina has been a bastion of security! War has been declared upon us again and again by our jealous neighbours, and their armies have marched upon our refuge innumerable times. And time and time again, we have beaten them back! Our natural defences have protected us, and our brave men and women in the army have spilled their blood, so that our ancestors could live in peace. But times are moving ahead, and swords, shields, spears, bows and arrows will soon not be enough to protect ourselves against the evils of the world!

"I, Robar the Eleventh, have taken it upon myself to ensure the safety of our kingdom by commissioning the construction of this awesome machine, this pinnacle of technology new and old! With _The Chimera_ , our armed forces will be unstoppable on the offense and unbreakable on defence! With her mighty cannons, she will lay waste to any invading army long before they reach any of our settlements! We can take the fight to the enemy's capitol long before any of our blood needs to be spilled! My lords and ladies, with this airship, we cannot be defeated. Lumina is safe once again, and our future is a bright and shining one!"

The small speech, horrible as it was, went over well with the nobles. King Robar had never been a man of words, but he had charisma and authority, which always went over well with the upper class. Victor wanted to shake his head in disbelief, hoping that the people gathered before them were drunk or being affected by some sort of illegal substance in order to applaud such a speech. The only reason he joined in was because it was expected of him. All the while he clapped, however, he kept wondering how big a price the brass-and-steel monstrosity behind him would fetch when they undoubtedly had to sell it.

"Lords and ladies," his father continued, "allow me to introduce the man who designed _The Chimera_ , the genius whose efforts we have to thank for the complete and utter safety of our people: Master Engineer Jedistern Tadian!"

To Victor's left, a thin man with head of wild, bushy red hair and wearing a large leather apron and a pair of thick goggles stepped out of the crowd, nodded modestly to the nobles, who were once again cheering with reckless abandon, and then disappeared back among the people.

"Modesty is the sign of a true intellect!" Robar shouted! "And now, let us meet the intrepid crew of our new protector!"

A large door on the side of the ship opened, revealing what was most likely the cargo hold. A large group of people were standing inside. They were all wearing the new uniforms of the newly established Luminan Air Navy, which was supposedly meant to reflect other nations' sea navies, but just came off as pretentious. There were dark blue jackets, shining epaulettes and who knew what else. The faces presented were all freshly shaved (at least in the men's case) and crisp, ready to take on the world, apparently. They all stood to attention when Robar and Victor stepped up to inspect them. Or, rather, when Robar stepped up to inspect them and Victor was forced along to appear official.

By the time Robar invited the nobility to inspect the inside of the airship for themselves and partake in a guided and very detailed tour by the captain of _The Chimera_ himself, Victor was all but ready to leave. He hated events like these, having to mingle with pompous, snivelling and brownnosing nobles who were only looking to grease their own wheels by introducing their daughters (and, in some cases, their sons) to the young prince. And now, with economic and regicidal matters coursing through his head, everything was made so much worse. He followed his father into the gaping maw of _The Chimera_ , led by the captain, whose name kept slipping from Victor's mind and who was already pointing at steam engines and pipes, explaining loudly to the gathering onlookers what they did and why. The crew didn't seem too pleased about their presence, probably thinking that they were contaminating their ship.

Victor happened to glance at the crowd and caught the eye Countess Marlotta. She gave him a small smile and a nod before focusing her attention on the wildly gesturing captain, who was definitely enthusiastic about his ship.

* * *

The tour lasted for several hours, the captain promising that they had only seen the main parts of the ship (the most successful part being the drawing room and its well-stocked liquor cabinet), neglecting several vitals systems and service tunnels, but the king soon decided that the tour was over and that it was time to move the celebration to the grand hall. The guests were escorted there by Rial's men, who performed a tightly coordinated routine involving spinning swords and pikes and carefully timed floor stomps, which was quite impressive, though Victor could see the exasperation in his friend's face as he too was forced to twirl his pike.

The king excused himself, intending to withdraw to his chambers to freshen up before rejoining the guests. Victor made the same excuse, but quickly followed his father.

"Father, can we talk?" he asked as he drew alongside the thin man's rapid gait. Victor was decidedly shorter than his father, struggling to keep up, yet another aspect of his son the king was surely disappointed with.

"Victor, we have a very important celebration to go to, can it not wait?" Robar said, not even looking at him.

"No, father, it cannot," Victor said, gulping when his father stopped abruptly and look at him, searching his face.

"Very well," Robar said. "But not here. My chambers. Come."

To say that Robar's bedchambers were of the royal kind would be an understatement. The ridiculous size of the bed, which could probably have provided room for ten people, was the centrepiece of the room, but the equally large desk, sofa and fireplace spoke volumes of the occupant's ego. That, and Victor wondered if his father was compensating for something...but that sent his thoughts dangerously close to a territory he did not even want to _acknowledge_.

Robar went to the sofa, sat down and then gestured for his son to take a seat as well. "Well, son?" he asked. "What is it?" The coldness of his tone bit into Victor. He had always been like this, never showing his son the least bit of warmth.

"..." Victor opened and closed is mouth. How was he supposed to go forward with this? He wanted to tell the king that Rehm and the others were planning on getting rid of him and wanted Victor to participate, but if what they had told him was true... "Father, how much did _The Chimera_ cost?"

Robar stared at him for a few seconds before blinking. "A frighteningly large sum," he answered, picking up a grape from the fruit bowl that stood on the table.

"How large a sum?"

"More than you can imagine. But as I have always said, you cannot put a price on the safety of your people. With that ship, Victor, no one will dare to declare war on us."

"But why would they, father?" Victor asked, shaking his head when Robar gestured towards the bowl. "We haven't fought anyone for decades, and our allies all signed a non-aggression pact. We haven't any enemies to fight off, father."

"No, we do not," Robar replied, nodding. "But that could change quickly. You know how politics are. But as long as we have our trump card, we will not _gain_ any enemies either."

"Can we afford it, though?"

"Pardon?"

"Father, I know of our debts. We owe our allies so much money, yet you keep spending what little we have on war machines and siege engines, and now the airship. I have received some disturbing reports from the villages, tax collectors being ambushed and—"

"Rehm put you up to this, didn't he?" his father said, his expression wooden. Once again, Victor was unable to meet his gaze for more than a few seconds. "The old fool has always been trying to meddle in my affairs."

"He _is_ the councillor, fath—"

"And as the councillor, he is to _advise_ me, not tell me what to do!" Robar exclaimed, rising from his seat and pacing around the room.

Victor wanted to say that, technically, that _was_ Rehm's job if the king was uncertain, but the anger that was currently radiating off the man told him that it would not be wise to do so.

"Victor, don't you understand that in these trying economic times, it is important to maintain appearances?" Robar asked, gesturing towards the massive windows, outside which a small part of _The Chimera_ could be seen. "If our allies knew that we have no money, they would invade without fail!"

"But, since they _lend_ us money, they already _know_ that we—"

"And _The Chimera_ is not enough, no," Robar continued, not caring that his son was quickly losing faith in his father's reasoning and ability to see the truth. "I have commissioned Jedistern to design two additional airships of equal power to _The Chimera_. With them, we will be unstoppable, and we can quickly silence anyone who believes that we are too weak to defend ourselves. In fact, we will destroy _them_ for even considering the idea."

Robar was sweating heavily now, his face growing redder by the second, but he kept talking for at least ten minutes about how Lumina was superior, how Lumina would crush her enemies, how Lumina could take over the world if she so wished.

Victor remained quiet, wondering if his father was losing his mind. Wishing for the safety of his people was one thing, but claiming that the only way to ensure said security was to destroy every other nation on earth... But it was what Robar said next that truly tipped the glass over.

"...as for those who are ambushing my tax collectors," he said slowly, "I shall have them all executed for treason. Vermin shall not be tolerated. I have already dispatched soldiers to the affected areas, in fact."

Victor swallowed. He _was_ insane. "Father, think about what you are saying," he pleaded, "what would mother sa—"

"If you mother were here," Robar said, "she would agree with me. She died to give birth to you, Victor, and I am simply ensuring that you will have a kingdom to rule when the time comes. I am doing you a favour."

The prince couldn't stand hearing any more after that, quickly excusing himself and leaving the chambers. He ran through the hallways, not stopping until he reached his own chambers, flung open the windows and leaned out of them, breathing in heavily. He felt ill, like he was about to throw up. He just _had_ to bring up his mother, didn't he?

There was no other way to look at it. Rehm was right. His father had no idea on how to properly rule a kingdom that was rapidly descending into destitution, getting ideas of grandeur and world conquest instead—all within the span of ten minutes. Something had to be done. Victor was not going to sit by and watch as his country fell apart.

* * *

Sheik was nearly knocked down as another strong gust of freezing wind hurled across the path they were currently following up the mountainside. He and Link were leading Maladict, Epona and Shun by their reigns (though in Shun's case it was a matter of biting on to her mother's tail and not letting go) due to the narrow path, on one side of which there was a sheer drop to the bottom of the of cliffs. No one could survive such a fall, not even magical horses.

"You alright?" Link shouted over the wind, shielding his face with his hand. His heavy jacket was bellowing around his body.

"Yes, I'm fine!" Sheik shouted back, shivering. He was wearing his (correction: Zelda's) exoskeleton beneath several layers of warm clothing they had obtained at a trading station at the bottom of the mountain, and even that didn't help against the freezing temperatures up here.

Sheik understood why so few invasions of Lumina had been successful. The mountains themselves were difficult to climb with only two people in the group—doing so with an army would be a nightmare without equal. They reached a small ledge close to a bend in the path, which curled around and around towards one of the lowest, snow-covered peaks. It gave them a fantastic view of the magnificent mountain range that provided Lumina with its primary means of defence. Craggy tops, vertical walls and sloping hills were all that could be seen, all of them covered in a thick layer of snow. Looking at the path they were following, it seemed to Sheik that it stretched on forever and ever, never crossing the peaks in front of them, just meandering along the tops on a never-ending road that could only result in their deaths. But the man in the trading station had assured them that the path would lead them across the range and into Lumina.

Even so, had it not been for Zelda's orders, Sheik would have turned around. This was too rough of a climb to take so soon. Had it been a gradual increase in steepness and difficulty, they could have eased into it, but the second they had taken this path...

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Link shouted, suddenly standing next to him, staring at the mountains.

"What?"

"I said, 'beautiful, isn't it?'!"

"Oh, right! Yes, very much so!"

Sheik glanced at their mounts, who were all huddling together for warmth, Shun pressed tightly between her mother and father. Kaiza was tucked into one of the saddlebags, refusing to come out. "I think we'd better get a move on!" he told Link, pointing at the rising path. "Find a cave! Rest until tomorrow!"

"Tomorrow?" Link asked, his hand going to his head, undoubtedly grabbing at the cap he still subconsciously thought he had on. Instead, he found the hood of his heavy snow jacket. "But we're making such good time!"

"Yes!" Sheik didn't agree. They were making terrible time, but the sun was going to set soon, and then they would be in _real_ trouble if they didn't find shelter somewhere, which, again, the man at the trading station had assured them there was plenty of. "But the nights here are even colder! We're going to die if we stay out much longer!"

"Alright, then!" Link said, grabbing Epona's reigns. "Lead on!"

* * *

Half an hour later, they were sitting in a spacious, roughly square cave that was clearly artificial, with smooth, rounded edges everywhere, a mostly level floor and a clever ventilation channel placed directly above a deep groove in the floor, which was filled with the remains of countless fires. The cave itself could probably fit over thirty people comfortably, and at least twenty more if they didn't mind physical intimacy. Epona, Maladict and Shun were trotting around, not sure what to make of the place, which was so unlike any other cave they had been forced into by their riders. Kaiza was sleeping, perched on Sheik's pack.

Torches were hanging at even distances on the walls, which when lit brightened the cave considerably. Sheik was lighting them with a burning stick from the fire Link was currently tending in the pit. Firewood had been left behind by considerate travellers who had used the cave before them.

"Now this is what I call a cave," Link said, prodding at the small flames. "No animals to chase out, no dung and no sharp corners to sleep on and develop back pain..."

"It is certainly something," Sheik said, smiling as the last torch caught fire and lit up the last part of the cave. Around the bend, he could see the cave entrance. A snow storm had started to roar outside, and he had a feeling they had been incredibly lucky to find this place when they had. "But since most of Lumina relies on a constant flow of trading over the mountains, it was only a matter of time until someone figured that making them would be a good idea."

"So what're these called?" Link asked.

"I don't know," Sheik replied honestly. He really had no idea. "The man at the trading station just called it a cave."

"This is too good to be called a cave," Link said. He leaned back, confident that the fire wouldn't go out, sighing. "You know, I'm starting to wonder if this was a good idea..."

Sheik joined him by the pit, looking at him curiously. "What do you mean?"

"Coming here."

"Why?"

"I dunno," Link said, shaking his head. "It's just...getting across this mountain isn't exactly easy, and I can only imagine what the kingdom itself is like. They must be a hardy people..."

Sheik smiled. "I can assure you, then, that Lumina is much like Hyrule, both in climate and its people. And when have you ever been afraid of a little hardship on a mountain? I seem to recall you climbing an active volcano back home...several times, in fact."

"Yeah, but that was _different_ ," Link said. "I did it 'cause I had to, not because I wanted to. Going to Lumina is just for fun, after all—"

"Not entirely," Sheik said, recalling Zelda's letter. "We are to bring the princess' thanks to the king."

"Yeah, but that's not exactly something that needs to be done to save the world, is it?" Link reached for his pack and fished out a pair of sausages of some sort of unidentifiable and most likely disgusting type of meat. They were quite pale, with dark splotches beneath the skin. The Hero wrinkled his nose. "Did they look like this when we bought them?" he asked.

"They did," Sheik said, eyeing the meat by-product with distaste. "You even tossed one down raw after _you_ bought them, despite my protests. I expected you to be ill by now, to be honest." Sheik had wanted to buy some fish wrapped in various layers of preservatives since they would keep longer, but _nooooooo_ , Link wouldn't have that.

"Well, since I'm _not_ ill, I guess they're edible," Link said and skewered the sausages on a pair of sticks, handing one to Sheik, who took it gingerly, like it might explode in his face at any moment. "Don't be such a cuccoo," the Hero laughed.

Sheik scowled and hung the meat tube over the fire, which was finally putting out enough heat for them to remove the outer layers of their clothing. Like he was going to be afraid of a damn sausage! He blushed when he realised what he had just thought and the unfortunate implications it had. Link didn't seem to notice—or maybe he did and was grinning on the inside. The Hero could be surprisingly sneaky when he wanted to.

Link removed his jacket, leaving him in his usual outfit minus that horrible cap, and looked at Sheik. "So, tell me about Lumina," he said.

Sheik cleared his throat. "What do you want to know? And before you ask, let me remind you that I know very little of recent events there because of the war."

"Alright," Link said, thinking hard. "You said it's like Hyrule, right?"

"Yes."

"Okay, so what're the people there like?"

"Well, they're humans, for one—"

"Humans?"

Sheik blinked. Link had never heard of humans? Surely he knew that they were the dominant race in the world? "They're...not very different from us, actually," he said slowly. "The only physical characteristic that distinguishes them from us are their ears. They're not long and pointed, but short and round."

Link frowned. "Sounds _weird_ ," he said, reaching up to touch his own left ear, fiddling with the metal hoop that had mysteriously appeared in it during his seven-year long sleep. "How can they _hear_?"

Sheik hid a smile, knowing that the mystery of the earring was gnawing at the Hero. Reflexively, he reached up to touch his own, slightly smaller ears. They were smaller than the average Hylian's, though that was not really noticeable unless you had a very keen eye and decided to get a ruler out. He was supposed to have an earring too, it being a rite of passage for young Sheikah warriors, but that had been pushed aside by the war, and now that Impa was busy with being a Sage...

"Apart from that, though," Sheik continued, "there are no big differences. I suppose humans have a taller average height than Hylians too, but that does not count for much in the big picture. Anyway, their culture differs quite a bit from ours."

"How so?" Link asked, still fiddling with the earring. Had Impa done that while the Hero slept?

"They don't worship the Goddesses, for one," Sheik said, anticipating the widening of Link's eyes.

"What?"

"You heard me. The reason for this is that...well, it's difficult to get an accurate picture of what happened, but roughly a thousand years ago, a man whose name has been forgotten waged a war on the Goddesses, wielding powers much greater than any wizard or witch could possess. Come to think of it, I don't believe anyone actually _knew_ his name, even at the time, but he was known as The Enlightened One. The title was probably based on his claims that the Goddesses had been lying to the people the entire time and were playing cruel tricks and games with them." He was desperately trying to recall all the details that had been in the books in the library of the old castle in Hyrule, but he could only remember the larger events.

"What happened to him?" Link asked, grimacing at the blasphemy Sheik was describing. The Goddesses were right and just, in his opinion. If the truth were to be otherwise, why did they even care to name him their chosen one and have him save Hyrule?

"Again, details are scarce," Sheik said, "but he and his cult were obviously defeated, and The Enlightened One was cast down and imprisoned somewhere in Lumina, though no one knows where. The Goddesses were very wrathful back then, apparently, and granted him eternal life so that he may spend his immortal existence contemplating his actions."

"Serves him right," Link said.

"I suppose so," Sheik said, nodding. But he was not entirely sure if he agreed, but then again, theological debates were not his strong suit. "But the Goddesses were not done. For their treachery, the Luminans were punished with plagues and natural disasters, leaving the land in ruins. They began to fear the Goddesses as much as they had The Enlightened One, in the end, and as a result, they fear both parties."

"So...what _do_ they worship?"

"Nothing, I believe," Sheik said, noticing that his sausage looked about done—meaning that it was still pale like a corpse and blotchy like a leper, but at least it was actually cooked. "They simply...live. The Goddesses have left them alone ever since the war, so why should they bother?"

"I don't get it," Link said.

"Neither do I, but there we are."

Link had no more questions at the moment, so they ate in silence, enjoying each other's company and the sounds of the howling wind outside. Then they went to bed.

An hour later, they were both throwing up.

 _That's the last time I let Link decide what we should eat,_ Sheik thought, holding his stomach. This night would not be easy.

* * *

**Soul Remnants**

**Chapter 4**

* * *

_He couldn't move. Something was holding him down by his wrists and ankles, and no amount of resistance eased the pressure. It hurt, like nails were pressing into the delicate flesh there. The floor was wet and cold and he could feel the pattern of tiles against his back. He was naked, exposed to the entire world and the darkness around him. A cold wind blew over him, causing him to shiver as he continued struggling against whatever it was that was keeping him down. The air was freezing, and every breath he drew turned into laboured gasps as his lungs expelled the air before they could draw vital oxygen._

" _ **I told you, didn't I?"**_

_The voice was coming from above. He gasped again, though whether it was from the surprise or the cold air he didn't know._

" _ **You belong to me, and therefore you cannot escape. This is your prison as much as it is mine."**_

_A pair of glowing red dots appeared some distance from his face, the face slowly coming into view as well, as if reshaping itself. There was no mistaking it. The Hero of Time's face was leering down at him, a satisfied smirk on its lips. But this was not the Hero. It couldn't be._

" _ **Something the matter?"**_ _the face asked, coming even closer, its warm breath ghosting over its captive's face. Soft fingers ghosted over the naked flesh, making him shiver even more._ _ **"Surprised to see me?"**_

" _Let me go!"_

_The face grinned._ _**"Hard of hearing, are we? Did you not hear what I just said?"** _

" _I heard you just fine, but I know you're not real," he replied, leaning away as the face came ever closer. Their lips were inches apart now, and he was doing his best to resist the sudden urge to kiss them. "I know you're not real, because I saw you die."_

" _ **You saw**_ **some** _ **of me die,"**_ _the face chuckled. A hand appeared, the pale flesh almost translucent, and grabbed his chin and forced him to look at the face._ _ **"I am never letting you go again, precious one."**_

_Speil pressed his lips to Sheik's..._

* * *

Sheik sat up abruptly, short of breath. The fire in the pit was long dead, but the rock around them preserved the heat well. He was drenched in sweat, his blond locks hanging sloppily in his face. _It can't be,_ he thought. _He's dead. Link killed him. I_ saw _him die!_

His stomach ached from the violent expulsion of the dodgy-looking sausages they'd had for dinner, but at least it hadn't developed into food poisoning. Yet, anyway. Link had gotten the worst of it by far, having spent at least two hours alternatively moaning and vomiting by the cave entrance. But his stomach had calmed down eventually as well.

The Hero in question was still asleep, his face inches apart from where Sheik's had been. Sheik recognised that Link was in his deep-sleep-mode, during which nothing, not even the earth cracking apart under him could wake him up. The only thing that could wake him up was himself. Just as well, Sheik figured. The last thing the Hero needed was to be worried about his lover yet again.

Sheik wrenched off his soaked shirt and untangled himself from the mess of his bedroll blanket. He paced around the fire pit for a few minutes, like he always did after waking up from a nightmare like this. It was becoming a habit—one he didn't like one bit. He glanced at the horses. They hadn't noticed either, and Kaiza was still perched on one of their packs. No one but him was awake. Perfect.

There was no way Speil was still alive. He just couldn't be. After going through so much trouble with finding him and getting rid of him...there was no way he—or it—could possibly just reappear. He paused. And yet...Sheik had never _seen_ Speil die, had he? Technically, he had been close to death himself at the time, and the fight had been a mere blur around him. Link had assured him that his shadow was dead and gone forever, disintegrated and vaporised into nothingness.

He sat down, letting his foot dangle over the smouldering fire. He felt cold despite the cave being quite warm, and he couldn't get the feeling of hands gripping his limbs away. He rubbed his wrists and turned them around, almost expecting to see the marks of fingernails left behind. There were none, yet he could _feel_ the bite of them...

He heard shuffling behind him as Link groaned, undoubtedly searching for Sheik with his hands before creaking open one of those impossibly blue eyes of his, looking around before settling on the Sheikah's naked back. Sheik heard the quiet, almost unnoticeable sigh that escaped from the Hero's lips as he too got up from his bedroll and shuffled over to settle down by the pit. He smiled a little as the Hero put an arm around him, resting his head on his shoulder.

"'Nother nightmare?" he asked sleepily.

Sheik nodded.

Link looked at him. "We're safe here, you know."

"I know."

With his other hand, Link grabbed the stick he had used to give life to the fire and rooted at the tiny embers. "You can't keep going like this," he said. "You haven't had a decent night's sleep in months."

"I'm fine," Sheik said, knowing what was coming.

"Fine?" Link scoffed, running a finger along the ribs that were so prominent on Sheik's torso, the skin stretched tightly against them. "Look at this...you're losing weight, hair...you're tired all the time, you barely eat and you're grumpy. You're turning into someone I don't know, Sheik." All this was said with such an earnest, worried tone of voice that only Link could do, and it always hit Sheik where it counted. And yet, he found himself annoyed with the needless concern.

"I thought I was always grumpy," he replied, trying to resist the urge to rub his wrists and ankles. The less Link knew, the better.

"What was it about?"

"What?"

"The dream."

"Oh...just...things from the war," Sheik said.

"Like?"

"Things I've seen and done...things others have done...the creature Ganondorf turned into...I cannot get them out of my head." Sheik knew that Link had occasionally had nightmares about Ganondorf as well –with good reason, the man was a monster!—and perhaps he'd get off his case if they both lost sleep over a common cause.

"Well, he's dead now," Link said, finally giving up on the fire. "He can't hurt us anymore. He can't hurt anyone."

"Even so, he's left a lasting impression," Sheik lied. Yes, he had nightmares, but they were rarely about the Gerudo male and his insane obsession with the Triforce. The face of the first man Sheik had ever killed popped up quite often, though...

"You should eat something," Link said after a prolonged period of silence.

"I'm not hungry."

"You're wasting away."

"I've lost weight because we've been travelling a lot."

"You were a skeleton to begin with."

"Sheikah are naturally slim."

They sat like this for at least another hour before going back to sleep, Sheik continually trying to make sense of the nightmare until his mind finally delved into uneasy slumber.

_What did he mean by "a part of me"?_

* * *

It took them another two days, but they finally hit the trail that led down from the mountain and into Lumina proper. As they descended below the tree line, they felt the temperature rising again, forcing them to remove their heavy outer clothing.

They paused at a small plateau to do this, and they both gasped. Sheik had seen Lumina on maps, and the kingdom had always seemed tiny and isolated. But now he saw that it rivalled Hyrule in size, the mountains on the other side not even visible from here. Beneath them, lush, green valleys and plains stretched out before them, and thousands of paths and roads crisscrossed each other on the way to villages that were small specks the size a fingernail from up here.

"Wow," Link said. "It's...big."

"You could say that again," Sheik said as he fished out his spyglass and the map of known world. The brass tube hardly made a sound as the segments slid against each other. He looked through it.

 _Hm...we're here,_ he thought as took a second to locate their position on the useless map. Being a world map, the only places of note that had been put on the map in Lumina was the capital city, which had been given a rather unimaginative name. But at least it gave him a good idea of where they had to go. _And the capital's here...hm... We won't need to stop for supplies. Even without those...things he bought._ The memory of those horrible things still made his stomach ache protestingly.

"We're lucky," he said to Link, who was still taking in the view. The vegetation here seemed to be much thicker than in Hyrule, and already Sheik was seeing plants he didn't recognise. "We're quite close to the capital. A day or two of riding due west and we'll be there."

"Great," Link said, smiling. Sheik wondered what he was so happy about...

...and got his answer a few hours later as they descended into one of the numerous valleys, following the road that seemed to be heading for Lumina City. The trees and plants around them pressed in oppressively, much like the ones in the Lost Woods did. _No wonder he was smiling—and still is,_ Sheik thought, looking at Link. _He feels at home here!_

It was not just the claustrophobic feeling one got from the forest, but the heat and humidity as well. Lumina wasn't located much farther south than Hyrule, and yet the climate felt almost tropic. Not that Sheik knew what a tropic climate felt like, but he had an imagination and books that described it!

At one point, the tree branches above blocked out the high sun above them, the path in front of them disappearing in a veil of almost pitch black darkness. Again, Link only seemed to smile. He was definitely feeling at home here, even as he wiped his sweaty face with a rag. By the time they emerged back into the light, they had reached the bank of a large river that had drawn a curvy line through the kingdom as far as they could see. They stopped for a while, both to refill their water flasks and to just get a breather.

"Sheik..." Link said suddenly. He was dipping his feet into the calm water by the shore, his shirt off to cool down a little. "What do people here think about...people like us?"

"Hyrulians?" Sheik asked. He was trying to feed Shun a carrot, but the filly was being stubborn and refused to take it. He had never ever seen a horse refuse a carrot before, which stupefied him more than a little.

"No, not where we're from," Link said, struggling to find the words he wanted. "I mean...for what...we are. You know. Together. What do people think about that?"

Sheik paused, his brain stuck between searching for information regarding this and amazement at the uncertain tone in the Hero's voice. He'd heard Link being unsure before—several times, in fact—but never about...that. Shun chose that moment to rip the carrot out of his hand, snorting him in the face before joining her parents again. They seemed to approve of her actions. Was Link...ashamed? No, that couldn't be it. He was nervous about what people would think, probably. But why now? He'd had no problem with announcing their relationship at the victory celebrations back home. Of course, they didn't have Zelda at their backs this time.

He thought about it. He _did_ remember reading something about the culture regarding...that, in one of his books, but...that could be old information by now. And useless. "Last time I checked," he said as he sat down next to Link, wiping away horse snot with his shirt sleeve, "they treat our kind of relationship as a quirk of personality. They don't mind it, but I don't think they applaud it either. I know the nobility practice it vigorously, though."

"So they're not going to bring out torches and pitchforks?" Link said, giving Sheik an uncomfortable look.

And then Sheik remembered the spectacle that had occurred in a small fishing village two months before. They had just had dinner at the tavern, and had gotten careless. Or, rather, _Link_ had gotten careless and kissed him as they left the establishment. The mob that villagers had formed a few minutes later had been comical in its clichéd execution, pitchforks and all, and Sheik had not really found anything but amusement in it, even if they had been forced to ride like hell out of there.

"...those villagers got to you, did they?" Sheik asked.

"It's just..." Link began, but stopped, sighing. "I just don't see why it bothered them so much."

Sheik was prepared to launch into a diatribe concerning traditional male-female gender roles, masculinity and their significance in many patriarchal societies and how many thought it to be "unnatural", but the look on Link's face told him that a factual explanation would be...unwise.

"Some people just don't understand," he said. "They are narrow-minded and...well, in some cases absolutely insane. But they don't matter, do they? Their opinion on something that is between you and me has no impact on us. And you know as well as I that they would have fled had you drawn your sword."

"Yeah, I guess you're right..." Link said, not sounding convinced. "But can you promise me that it won't happen here?"

"...I can't promise you that, but I _can_ guarantee that I will scare them away."

Link chuckled. "Yeah, those eyes of yours could turn an opposing army around."

"I thought you liked my eyes," Sheik said, helping the Hero stand.

"Oh, I do, but—"

They both fell silent as they heard the all-too familiar sound of metal clashing against metal, barely audible over the rushing river, and screaming. They looked at each other, and then at the direction from which the sounds were coming. One pair of boots hastily thrown on the wrong feet later and they were rushing down the road.

Several minutes later, they came upon a scene of carnage, though the battle was seemingly over. A large cart drawn by massive horses had been tipped over into a ditch, its frame splintered and broken by the weight of the steel cage that had been placed on it. The horses were gone, as were the attackers, leaving behind their dead.

Bodies lay strewn across the dusty road, blood leaking from gashes and deep wounds. Most of them seemed to be regular villagers, dressed in rags and armed with what seemed to be farming tools and little else. The others, however, were dressed in black and red uniforms and had real weapons. Both men and women. They were probably the owners of the destroyed cart.

The two dismounted and investigated the area. There were hills on both sides of the road, covered in vegetation. A prime ambush spot if Sheik was any judge. From the tracks in the dust, the horses had been frightened and pushed to the ditch, causing the cart to tip over. The soldiers—most likely the king's, as Sheik recognised the heraldry on the banner that lay on the ground—had been surprised and annihilated within minutes, it seemed. A few of them hadn't even been able to draw their weapons.

"What happened here?" Link asked, crouching by the dead body of a female soldier. Her blonde hair had been coloured red by the blood leaking from a large cut in her scalp, which had almost cleaved her skull in half. "Are these...soldiers?"

"Tax collectors, most likely," Sheik said, bending down to pick up a shiny gold coin. The face of a stern-looking man had been minted on one side, and a cogwheel on the other. "Bandits probably heard about it passing by here and organised an ambush to steal the money." He took a closer look at the wrecked cart. The cage had been twisted and bent by its own weight. There was nothing inside save for a few other coins that had been spilled. "And they were successful too, judging by the lack of said taxes in here."

"They just left their dead," Link said, carefully closing the dead woman's eyes and easing her back on the ground.

"They must have heard us and panicked," Sheik said. "Must've thought we were backup." He counted the bodies, seeing that there were more bodies than could have fitted on the cart. The horses they must have been riding were gone, possibly stolen by the bandits as well. All in all, there were nine dead soldiers, and seven dead bandits. The soldiers had definitely been surprised by the ambush, or they would have easily dealt with the underequipped bandits...

"What is it?" Link asked, coming up to him.

"There were too few soldiers for such an important task," Sheik replied. "A tax convoy usually has between fifteen and twenty escorting soldiers in addition to the ones on the cart itself. These men...were running a ridiculous risk, and see what it got them." He neglected to mention that the bandits had not even taken the soldiers' weapons, which was also quite strange.

"What should we do?"

"What _can_ we do? They're all dead, the money is gone...there's little to do but notify the authorities in the next town we reach." He had a feeling they were being watched, probably by the bandits. "And I think," he continued as he approached Maladict, "that getting out of here immediately would be a good idea."

"I agree," Link said, looking around. "It's like we're being watched..."

As they slowly rode away, Sheik could have sworn he saw a grinning face peeking out from behind a tree, one of its eyes covered by an eye patch. He glared back.

"Typical," Link said when they were sufficiently far away. He didn't seem all that affected by the carnage behind them...but then again, he'd seen far worse back home.

"What?" Sheik asked, still keeping an out behind them, making sure they weren't being followed. The bandits didn't seem to wish them any harm, but one could never be too careful.

"I want peace and quiet, and what do I get? Dead tax collectors and bandits." He sounded offended, as if the attack had happened just because he happened to be passing through the area and that it was done just to spite him. Gone was the sadness Sheik had seen in his eyes as he closed the dead soldier's eyes. Maybe it was a defence mechanism?

"Hm," Sheik said, suddenly remembering a piece of news that had been read to Zelda's father a month or so before Ganondorf's attack. It had been about Lumina's poor economy that was going to fail soon. Had it happened already? Was that why the bandits had attacked? But if that was the truth, then how could an army unit possibly be dispatched to help out the relief effort in Hyrule? It didn't add up. Economic troubles always stirred civil unrest, and sending away a valuable way to assert the king's control...it was stupid.

They didn't speak again for a while, both occupied with their own thoughts.

* * *

"My prince," said the fat duchess, curtsying as far down as she could, making Victor worry about her legs snapping under her weight. He bowed, kissing her hand as she straightened up, beads of perspiration from the effort on her face. "It is a pleasure to meet you again."

"Duchess," he replied, forgetting exactly where her duchy was. There were so many of them. "I trust you are in good health?" That was the standard opening question at functions like these. Familiar, but not _too_ familiar. Personal, but not _too_ personal. Victor had asked the questions so many times this evening that he was about to go insane.

His father had arranged yet _another_ soiree for the nobility, almost back-to-back with the introduction of _The Chimera_ , most likely in an exhaustive effort to raise support for a kingdom that was clearly haemorrhaging money. One sign of trouble, and the nobility would pack up and leave with their troops, and they couldn't have that. Not only that, but Victor suspected that his father was trying to find his son a viable partner. Male or female, it didn't matter, as long as it strengthened political bonds.

"I'm quite healthy, your highness," the fat duchess replied.

 _Liar,_ Victor thought, struggling not to shudder at the sight of the heavy jowls and double chins. _You could barely make it up the stairs half an hour ago._

"I do not believe you have met my son, your highness," the duchess continued, reaching behind her and propelling forward an embarrassed-looking young man with the greenest eyes Victor had ever seen. It was difficult to believe that the two were related, the son being a mere twig compared to his mother.

"A pleasure to meet you," Victor said, plastering a smile on his face, both for his and the young man's benefit. "Can I have your name?"

"Leonard," the young man was able to mutter, blushing. Shaking Victor's hand was clearly something he had been dreading and looking forward to at the same time. He brushed an errant lock of hazel-coloured hair out of his face, barely able to meet Victor's gaze. "Your highness!" he added hastily after receiving a stern gaze from his mother.

"Excuse me, I do believe I see an old friend of mine I simply _must_ greet," the duchess said, sweeping away, leaving her son alone with the prince. The other nobles had been watching secretly and were now giving the two some space.

 _Oh no,_ Victor thought, _not again._

The two looked at each other embarrassedly for a few minutes before Victor finally took charge. "So, Leonard, were you at the ceremony for the airship?"

"No, your highness," Leonard replied, his voice small and uncertain. "I was...not allowed by Mother."

Victor could _hear_ the capital M in the way he said the word. "Why ever not?" he asked.

"She was not able to attend due to her...er...private business, and I was not allowed to go un-chaperoned."

 _Goodness, this woman is worse than Father..._ He caught the irony in the way he himself was addressing his father and promptly shut his thoughts up. "A pity," he said, "you missed quite an informative tour."

"So I hear," Leonard said unhappily.

The grand hall was getting stuffy, with so many people talking about... _stupid_ and _mindless_ things, and Victor was starting to sweat. There was something about this young man that was wrong. The duchess was clearly pushing him forward as possible partner for Victor, and Leonard, despite being embarrassed as hell and very nervous, didn't seem to mind it.

"It's getting warm in here," Victor said, tugging at his collar. "What say you we go out on the balcony? The evening air would do us both some good."

"Yes, your highness," Leonard said obediently. One mustn't question royalty, after all. Victor hated that, but what could he do?

The guards opened the glass doors and closed them behind Victor and Leonard, leaving them alone on the large balcony...or what remained of it, anyway. The ugly landing platform for the airship gleamed in the moonlight. Was it that late already?

"So, Leonard," Victor said, trying to get some inane small talk going. "How old are you?"

"Fifteen, your highness."

That was enough to throw a wrench into the inner workings of Victor's brain as he stared at the young man, who now looked so much younger than he had at first. _What is wrong with that woman?_ He wondered.

He tried to recover, clearing his throat. "Ah, yes, an interesting age. Lots of new things happening and such..." He was failing miserably. "New...feelings..." _Damn it!_

Leonard sighed, his entire posture slumping. "I am sorry, your highness," he said meekly. "I apologise on behalf of my mother, she seems to be—"

"No need to apologise," Victor said, relieved that Leonard was as uncomfortable as he. "I...know this can't be easy for you, what she is trying to do, I mean. You're so young..."

"It's not that," the _young_ man said. "I mean, I've always admired you and...it's just...she won't let me have eyes for anyone but you..."

"Parents rarely do," Victor said, leaning over the railing of the platform. "I suspect my father had a hand in this too, you know... So, who is the one you truly crave, if I may be so bold?"

Leonard looked taken aback at the familiarity of the question, but joined the prince by the railing. "He's...someone who works for my family."

"I understand," Victor said, smiling. He liked this young man. Not in _that_ way, of course, but he understood how it was like to have his life laid out for him with no opportunity to decide for himself, including who he could love...there was a definite kinship there. Victor didn't see much of a difference between men and women, liking them both to a certain degree...but he had yet to meet anyone who roused his interest...at least among the nobility his father had made absolutely clear were the only people he could fraternise like that with. Come to think of it, the only one who ever _had_ done that was—

"Your highness?" Leonard asked, looking worried. "I apologise if I have offended you—"

"No, no, no need," Victor said, "I was just...thinking about something."

Leonard relaxed visibly. He was clearly high-strung. It was probably the fault of his mother, who had now been relegated to the position of "Cow" in Victor's head.

"What will she do?" he asked.

"Pardon?" Leonard said.

"When she finds out that we are not...going to happen?"

"I...don't know," Leonard said. "She will probably introduce me to the other nobles instead." He sighed. "I wish I weren't her son."

"And I wish I was not my father's," Victor said, patting him on the shoulder. "But what can we do but grit our teeth and put up with them? Sooner or later, they will realise that we cannot be controlled."

"I hope you're right, your highness," Leonard said.

"So do I, Leonard, so do I..."

After the young man—boy, more like—had excused himself to report his failure to arouse the prince's interest to his mother, Victor looked up at the spot in the night sky that was _The Chimera_. He felt like a hypocrite. He wasn't going to put up with his father's insanity any longer. It was time to do something.

* * *

Rehm opened the door quickly after Victor had urgently knocked on it. His wrinkled face smiled upon seeing the prince's face, and he quickly stood aside to let him in. "Your highness," he said after making sure Victor was alone and no one else was in the hall. "I did not expect you so soon. Please, take a seat."

The councillor's chambers were simple, containing nothing but his bed, a washbasin, a desk with an accompanying chair and a bookshelf. There was nothing else, not even a fireplace or a window. Candles illuminated the room. He had Victor sit in the desk chair.

"Have you come to a decision?" he asked.

Victor hesitated, and then nodded. "Yes," he said. "You are right, Rehm. Father is wasting money, and his only solution for stopping the rebels are to kill them all, which will only make matters worse!"

"Ah, yes," Rehm said, nodding to himself. "Your father was always a proponent of the sword being mightier than the pen, which can be true in some cases, but not in this one. And what is your decision, my prince?"

"He must be stopped, Rehm."

"I am glad you see it that way, my prince," Rehm said, smiling even wider. "Lumina will only benefit from this decision, I assure you."

"Is there some sort of clause in the law that I can use?" Victor asked. "When I relieve him of his crown, I mean?"

Rehm's smile fell. "My prince...your ascent to the throne...relies on your father's death."

Victor felt chills down his back. "What?"

Rehm sighed and paced around the room. "While there are certainly several clauses in the law you could make use of, they all involve your father walking away a free man. The only one that would guarantee his death would be the one with which you accuse him of treason, but the man has not technically committed it."

"But..." Victor said, "I don't want him _dead_! Just not in charge anymore."

"That is not a desirable situation, my prince," Rehm said. "Your father will not take kindly to being deposed by his own son, and most of the army will most likely stay loyal to him when he invariably declares war on you. And my prince...he will win if he is allowed to do so."

"Then...surely there are other options!" the prince exclaimed. "I can have him imprisoned!"

"None of the options would allow you to imprison your father, I'm afraid," Rehm said.

"Then I'll make one," Victor said. "I'll be king, so anything I say goes."

"Your father is a very popular man among the nobility," Rehm said calmly, placing his hands on the prince's shoulders to calm him down. "Imprison him, and you will face another rebellion." His joints creaked as he crouched down in front of Victor. "Believe me when I say this, my prince: there is no way you can take the throne while your father is still alive. And you cannot be the one to kill him. I have already arranged for an assassin to...deal with the matter. All we need is your approval."

"Won't that seem suspicious?" Victor asked quietly, seeing what Rehm meant. He didn't like it one bit. "Him suddenly dying and me ascending just like that?"

"My prince," Rehm said, smiling kindly. "I have already thought of that, and a perfect way to mask it as an assassination by a foreign nation is going to dump into our hands in a few days."

"I...I need to think about it," Victor said, standing abruptly and leaving the room, which he noticed that he was doing a lot lately.

Treason, assassination, ascension...

How had it come to this?

* * *

**Soul Remnants**

**Chapter 5**

* * *

As it turned out, Sheik had been wrong about the distance to the city. What had seemed to be a short ride—a couple of hours at the most—turned out to be quite a bit longer. Night had fallen, and they were currently trying to find their way to the nearest town or village, with little luck. They followed shabby road signs, but they never seemed to lead anywhere, as if someone had deliberately tampered with them to confuse travellers. Sheik wasn't even sure they were heading in the right direction anymore, the moon and stars covered by a thick veil of clouds and the map still being useless. Thunder rolled in the distance, threatening them with rain.

"This is hopeless!" Link exclaimed as they reached yet another dead end. The forest path they'd been following had faded into an overgrown thicket of thorny bushes and thick tree trunks, and there was no way around it. Shadows flickered all around them in the light from the torches they'd both been forced to light in order to actually see where they were going. Angrily, the Hero drew his blade with his unoccupied hand and cut a thick branch the tree in front of him. He regretted it immediately, judging by the look of despair that crossed his face when he realised what he'd done. Link could never truly shake off his Kokiri upbringing, his love of forests and all that is green never disappearing.

Sheik didn't say anything, only watched as the Hero dismounted and carefully picked up the fallen branch and, with hesitation, laid it across the tree's visible roots. What this action would accomplish, Sheik didn't know, but if it made Link feel less guilty, then so be it. The Sheikah was worried. They were definitely being led astray by someone, though he wasn't sure who they were. _Probably the bandits who attacked the tax collectors,_ he thought, looking around in the darkness. He would have been able to see better without the torches, but that would limit Link's and—at least he assumed—the horses' ability to see. And that wouldn't help matters much. But then, two burning torches in the middle of a dark forest most likely infested by brigands, rogues and who knew what other kinds of scum was probably more of a guiding light than any amount of pained grunting and mumbling...

"I can't believe I just did that," Link said unhappily as he once again climbed into Epona's saddle. "I hurt a tree...on purpose!"

"Keep it down," Sheik said, not really hearing what Link had said. He peered out among the trees. Without the torches, he'd be seeing clear outlines of objects up to a distance of fifteen metres, and vague ones another few metres after that and then nothing. Now, he could barely see the tree behind the one on the other side of the path.

"What is it?" Link asked quietly, immediately recognising the voice Sheik used whenever he was concentrating on something. He narrowed his eyes. "Enemies?"

"I don't know," Sheik said slowly, reaching for his daggers in Maladict's saddlebag. "But we have definitely been led astray on purpose..." Carefully, and hopefully unnoticeably, he slid both daggers into the sleeve of his shirt, making sure they weren't poking out. "And we should be prepared for anything."

Link nodded silently and reached for the hilt of his sword.

Sheik wondered if Kaiza would of any help. The falcon was currently out flying, hunting for prey. But then he realised that he had no idea where she was. He could take the chance of whistling and hoping she could hear him, but that would alert whoever was following them and most likely trigger an attack, something he'd rather put off for as long as possible. He scanned the perimeter again, hoping to spot at least somewhere they could defend themselves more easily, but there was nothing. They were surrounded on all sides except directly behind them by thick forest that was impossible to pass through with horses, and leaving them here was not an option.

"Dismount," Sheik whispered. They did so, and Sheik silently grabbed Maladict's reigns, motioned for Link to follow his lead and slowly turned the horse around. If they could leave the area quietly, like the ambush spot from earlier, maybe they wouldn't be attacke—

There was a man standing on the path behind them. Sheik was surprised. He hadn't heard or sensed the man's presence at all. He was impossibly thin—looking positively starving—and was dressed in rags that hung off him in a most unflattering manner. His face was covered by a cloth, and his hair greasy. But the most distinguishing feature about him, or at least the most eye-catching one, was the crossbow he was holding in his hands, the crossbow that was currently pointed directly at Link.

"Alright, alright," the man said loudly, his voice shrill and broken. "You know the drill, sirs. Give us your money, your clothes, your horses and any other valuables, and you can go unharmed."

Link and Sheik shared a look. Link nodded, and Sheik looked back at the man, who, despite his unimpressive frame, was looking mighty confident in himself. The crossbow bolt's tip wasn't wavering in the slightest.

"Is this a joke?" Sheik asked, making sure he could easily draw his daggers in case the situation escalated. "Are you seriously robbing two kids who have lost their way?"

"Lost their way...hah!" the crossbowman said. He was clever, this one, lingering just outside of the light provided from the torches. Or, he was clever if it wasn't for Sheik's superior vision, but nevertheless... "You two look much too wealthy and well-fed...well, you do, at least—"he said and nodded to Link—"to be simple travellers and you were _travelling_ on a much too direct path to the city!"

 _A certified genius he is not,_ Sheik thought. A good bandit never bantered with his victims. But then, he was probably too confident in his cronies that were currently trying to surround them—clumsily, he might add, because of the sheer amount of noise they were making—among the trees. _And we look wealthy? That's news to me..._

"So _you're_ the ones who messed with the signs," Link said in a matter-of-factly voice. No question.

"We did," the crossbowman said, nodding. "And now, _kind sirs_ , I'd really appreciate that you disarmed yourselves, stripped down and left. You've my word I won't shoot ya... _fatally_."

"You're really going to do this to innocent kids?" Link asked, his hand still resting on the hilt of his sword.

"Times is tough, boyo, 's just the way it is."

Sheik smiled. The rustling noises around them had ceased. They were all in position. There couldn't be more than five or six of them in addition to the man in front of them. He was probably what barely qualified as a brain in the group as well. He glanced over at Link, who was smiling also. The situation wasn't so bad after all.

Their smiling clearly unnerved the crossbowman, who glanced pointedly at his cronies in the woods before pointing his crossbow at Sheik instead. "Are you deaf? I said _strip_!"

"Please tell me he's not pointing a crossbow at you, Sheik," Link said calmly, his eyes never leaving the crossbowman's.

"I'm afraid he is, Link," Sheik replied, allowing a small grin to appear on his face.

"He doesn't know, does he?"

"Obviously not."

"Eh?" the crossbowman said, glaring at them. "What're you two talking about? _And keep those hands where I can see 'em, brat!_ "

"Can we reason with him?" Sheik asked. "He's obviously a bright fellow..."

"I don't think so," Link answered, also grinning. "I think a more...hands-on approach would be better..."

Sheik sighed theatrically. "Then let us be done with it quickly."

"Yeah!"

Several things happened in such rapid succession that a casual observer might have considered them happening at the same time, though that would be wrong. With great speed, Link grabbed the torch attached to Epona's saddle with his free hand and hurled it at the crossbowman, who, after quickly sidestepping to avoid the torch, was still swinging his weapon to aim at the Hero. Sheik, in the meantime, let one of his daggers drop from his shirt sleeve and into his hand, drew said hand back and threw the dagger. It sailed through the air towards the crossbowman, whose finger was pulling at the trigger. At first, it looked as if the throw failed, as the dagger seemed to bury itself into the wood of the crossbow. But then the crossbowman began to curse loudly as he realised that the dagger had cut the string of his weapon, rendering it harmless.

"Attack, you bloody fools!" he shrieked loudly.

Sheik and Link, in one movement, were suddenly standing back-to-back, facing either side of the path, both assuming fighting positions. Sheik quickly broke his to retrieve another dagger from the saddlebag, which was just in time as three men burst out of the thicket on his side and two did likewise on Link's.

Easy.

Sheik met his attackers head-on, ducking under the first man's club blow and tripping him up by smashing the pommel of his dagger into his knee. He then put his weight on his left leg and brought his right foot up to connect with the second bandit's chin, which sent him spinning to the ground, groaning. The third bandit, wielding a short sword of inferior make, tried to run Sheik through, but the Sheikah easily parried the blow and kneed the man in the stomach, after which he struck the man across his nose with a dagger pommel for good measure. He kicked the sword away in to the bushes before slowly turning to face the first bandit, who had gotten to his feet again, angrily snarling at him. Behind him, Sheik could see Link fighting the two other bandits, gracefully dodging and parrying blows from his opponents. The Hero was _toying_ with them. It made Sheik smile.

"Oi, you're fightin' _me_!" the first bandit shouted and charged at Sheik, his club held high in the air for an overhead blow. Sheik clicked his tongue, side-stepped the clumsy attack and smashed a dagger pommel into the man's neck, knocking him out.

"Amateur," Sheik mumbled, clicking his tongue in a condescending manner. There was no challenge to fighting men like this.

Two loud cracks and accompanying moans told Sheik that Link had dispatched his own bandits and, as one, they turned on the crossbowman, who was standing rooted to the ground, gaping at the two boys who had just knocked out his fellow bandits as if they were nothing. His crossbow was a sorry mess, an attempted field-repair leaving it looking like a twisted and ruined hunk of wood. The fool had even tried to tie the bow string _back into one piece_ , for Goddesses' sake! Upon realising that the two suddenly terrifying boys were staring at him, the crossbowman levelled his weapon at Sheik again.

"D-don't come any c-closer!" he stuttered, his voice grating and annoying. "I-I'll kill ya both!"

"Correction: if you can even manage to get that thing to shoot, you'll only have time to kill one of us," Sheik said, taking a step forward with Link. "And if you do that, the one left standing will have ample time to run up to you and reciprocate that in a most horrific manner." Another step. The crossbowman took a step back. "And believe you me, if you hurt me, my friend will probably make you suffer quite a bit before he ends it."

"And so will he," said Link, nodding at Sheik.

They took another step.

The crossbowman looked behind him with despair and then back at them, still keeping his weapon trained on Sheik.

"And don't even think about running," Link said.

"We will catch up with you," Sheik added.

"And you won't like that."

The crossbowman, looking agonised, finally gave up, it seemed, and pulled the trigger. There was the sound of wood cracking, metal bending and something going _**sproing!**_ The man screamed, dropping the now-ruined crossbow and stumbled backwards, holding his face. Link seized the opportunity and ran up to the man, tackling him to the ground, punching him in the face repeatedly.

**Smack!**

"That was for leading us astray!"

**Smack!**

"That was for attacking us!"

He drew back and punched the bandit even harder one last time.

_**SMACK!** _

"And _that_ was for pointing a crossbow at my _boyfriend_!"

"I think that's enough, Link," Sheik said, putting a hand on the Hero's shoulder. Link nodded and stood up, panting. There was blood on his knuckles. It wasn't his own, but he hadn't caused the bleeding either. Sheik cringed, seeing a flat piece of metal with jagged edges sticking out of the man's cheek. His own crossbow had wounded him. _Hoisted by his own petard..._ he thought. "Why don't you see about tying up the others?" he asked the Hero. "And I'll talk to our friend here."

"Alright," Link said, "but be careful."

"I'll pretend you didn't say that," Sheik said, crouching down by the whimpering man. "As for you, we did warn you, didn't we?" Without warning, he grabbed the metal piece and ripped it out, eliciting a scream of pain from the bandit. "Now look here, my good man," Sheik said, making sure that the man was indeed looking at him. "We don't wish to hurt anyone. We came here to enjoy the sights and sounds of this country, and the first thing that happens is that we are ambushed by you and your pathetic little troupe. Now, I am not a violent person by nature, ha-ha, but I don't take kindly to that sort of welcome nor do I like having my lover or me being pointed at with deadly weapons. Really, I feel rather inclined to return the favour you tried to do us." At that point, he let the blade of one of his daggers rest easily on the man's throat. "But I'm in a good mood, so I'm going to give you the opportunity to make up for your misdeeds." He leaned in close, letting the man get a good look at the milky-white slit in his blind left eye, and said with a growling voice, " _Which way to Lumina City?_ "

* * *

The sound of metal clashing against metal rang out in the practice room of the royal guards. Grunting and panting echoed among the surrounding hallways. It was midnight, and most guards on active duty were patrolling the castle while the off-duty ones were probably off visiting their families or friends in the city—or drinking in one of the numerous taverns. Only two guards remained, and Victor was watching them sparring. Or, rather, he was watching Rial sparring.

That the young captain was a gifted leader was no secret, but few knew that he was an excellent fighter as well. Victor watched with a small smile on his face as the thirty-year-old mentored a grizzled soldier at least ten years his senior in the art of fighting with a sword.

"Your brawling style may be good enough for the battlefield, where confusion reigns supreme," Rial said as the opponents circled each other. Sweat was running down both their faces, and Rial's muscular upper body, which he for some reason had left uncovered, was glistening. "But here in the Royal Guard, you are expected to be as graceful as you are deadly. You will not face soldiers in this place, but trained assassins and other skilled enemies of the kingdom. You need to be able to confuse, divide and conquer." Suddenly, with a flourish of his sword, Rial stepped forward, feinted twice and slapped the older soldier's shoulder with the flat side of it. "There, you're dead."

The soldier wasn't about to take this lying down and growled, charging forward and attacking Rial repeatedly with broad and surprisingly quick strikes. Victor was quite certain he'd be knocked down by the man's blows, but Rial parried them almost effortlessly, grinning the entire way. The blades clashed once more, and the opponents pushed against each other, trying to make the other stumble backwards. Rial gave the soldier a grin before he suddenly stepped to the side and withdrawing his blade, leaving the soldier to stumble forward and crash to the floor. Rial laughed.

"Oldest trick in the book," he said, helping the soldier up.

"Good one, sir," the soldier admitted, grudgingly.

Unable to resist, Victor clapped lightly, grinning broadly at the looks of surprise that appeared on both of their faces. They'd had no idea he was there, apparently. "Excellent showmanship, captain," he said, descending the small flight of stairs into the slightly depressed pit where they'd been sparring. "I know I'll definitely feel safer with you around."

"Your Majesty!" both Rial and the soldier exclaimed, bowing. Victor wanted to roll his eyes at the motion, but let it slide for now since he and Rial weren't alone. "W-what are you doing here?" Rial asked, clamping his mouth shut after realising how rude he'd sounded.

"Oh, I'm just taking a midnight stroll through my castle," Victor said, leaning against a stack of crates off to one side of the stairs. "Problems sleeping, all that. I might even ask what you two are doing up at this time of night whaling on each other..."

"Pre-planned sparring, Your Majesty!" Rial said.

"Capital!" Victor said. "It was quite entertaining."

"Thank you, sir!"

Victor stared at them for a few seconds in silence, which made them both uncomfortable. It was quite hard for Victor to not stare at Rial's body. He'd never known the man to be quite so...sturdy. He supposed his uniform and armour hid it exceptionally well. It was...almost a shame, but Victor would never admit that to himself. Snapping out of it, he said, "Captain, I was wondering if I might have a word or two with you. Alone."

"Your Majesty!" Rial said and saluted. He turned to the soldier and nodded. "I believe that will be all for tonight, Tom. Keep working at it."

"Yes, sir," the soldier said, saluting first Rial and then Victor, followed by another deep bow. "Your Majesty!"

They watched him leave, disappearing down one of the endless corridors filled with dormitories. After hearing one of the doors opening and slamming shut, both Victor and Rial relaxed.

"Good soldier," Rial said, fetching his shirt from a weapons rack he'd hung it on. "Very loyal, but somewhat unrefined."

"He looked capable to me," Victor said, feeling the uneasiness coming over him again. The assassination...

"No offence, Your Majesty, but unless you have been a soldier and in combat, you do not know what to look for in a fighter." Again, Rial's mouth clamped shut. "I apologise, I did not mean—"

Victor waved the apology away with his hand. "No need, Rial. You're right; I know little about war or combat. In fact, I only know what have you taught me." He picked up a practice sword from another rack, running his finger along the dull edge. "My father would definitely disapprove of what we've been doing down here." He took off his sash and slowly unbuttoned his jacket, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt. "But I would very much appreciate it, if you taught me some more."

"Your Majesty—"

"As much faith as I have in you and your men's ability to protect me, Rial, I'd still very much like to be able to defend myself if push comes to shove, if you catch my meaning. I know fencing, but not _fighting_."

Rial hung his head slightly, knowing there was no way he'd be able to convince his prince to let this go. "Yes, Your Maj—"

"And it's 'Victor', for heaven's sake!" Victor exclaimed.

"Yes, Y—Victor..."

"Good," Victor said, smiling and dropping into the fighting stance Rial had spent so many evenings teaching him. "Now...en garde!"

"The first thing you'll want to do is drop that whole 'en garde' business," Rial mumbled. "Ruins the entire thing by giving your opponent a heads-up about the fight starting."

"Right, right," Victor said, forgetting to do so for the billionth time. "Sorry, it's been ingrained in me."

"Never mind," Rial said, suddenly charging forward. "Defend yourself!"

The spar didn't last long. Victor managed to avoid and—with some difficulty—parry a few of Rial's blows, but he quickly found himself backed into a weapons rack with Rial just a few metres away. Gritting his teeth, Victor decided to perform a Last Glorious Stand and ran towards his enemy, sword raised high. Rial looked surprised for a moment, but then a huge grin spread on his face, and Victor knew he'd made a big mistake. The older man dropped his weapon and bent down just as the prince came within striking range, causing Victor to run right into his shoulder. Without warning, Rial stood back up; wrapping an arm around Victor's back, lifting him up into the air. Then he began spinning. Faster and faster, Victor watched as the world turned into a blur around him. His stomach revolted violently against the action, and the prince closed his eyes tightly, determined not to vomit in front of Rial.

"Dost thou concede defeat?" Rial shouted, laughing loudly.

"Never!" Victor shouted back.

"But thou must! Or else we shall be spinning for the rest of our lives!"

"Never, I say!"

This went on for about a minute or so, after which Victor had to concede his glorious defeat. Rial carefully put him down and tried to steady him—failing miserably as the captain was just as dizzy as the prince, and they both tipped over and fell to the floor, groaning.

"Stop the world, I want off!" one of them yelled.

It took them several minutes to recover from the ordeal, and they slowly sat up to face each other, both looking rather green in their faces.

"That was a dirty trick," Victor said as his vision finally steadied and he was able to actually see the features of Rial's face.

"Effective, though," the captain said, a small grin on his face which made Victor smile back. This was the Rial he liked being around, the relaxed, easygoing and interesting person, not the posh, proper and tightarsed Royal Guard Captain. Rial made an attempt at standing up, still swaying slightly. He then helped Victor up. "Are you alright?"

"Fine, thank you," Victor replied. Nevertheless, he made a beeline for the nearest crate and sat down on it. The world kept slanting slightly, and it was making him uncomfortable. Well, that wasn't the entire truth. He was plenty uncomfortable to begin with. Everything was turning into such a mess, and he was at the very centre of it, which he didn't _want_ to be. And, despite how wrong it all felt, he also couldn't help but agree with what Rehm had said.

"Is something wrong?" Rial asked with concern, standing in front of Victor. Victor made the mistake of meeting his gaze, and the expression that formed on Rial's face told him that the captain was not about to let this go. "Your Majesty..."

"I...I don't know what I'm supposed to do, Rial!" Victor exclaimed, slamming his fist down on top of the crate.

"Do?" Rial asked. "About what?"

"About everything! The kingdom is falling apart, my father doesn't want to do anything about it but keeps wasting money you yourself said we don't have, and now Rehm wants me to do something...something I just..."

Rial remained silent, waiting for the prince to finish his sentence. He dragged another crate in front of the one Victor was sitting on and seated himself. "May I ask what he wants you to do?" he said after a few minutes.

"I...I can't tell you," Victor said, feeling like he was about to cry. _What a strong future ruler I am!_ he thought. _Crying in front of my guards!_ "It...he...I'm supposed to...do something I...it doesn't feel right."

Rial nodded, but kept looking at him with a strangely knowing gaze. "Does it have something to do with the current situation of the kingdom?" he asked. "Something to do with your father, perhaps?" At Victor's nod, he continued: "And I suppose that this...action...you're supposed to perform will, in some way, perhaps improve the way things are going?" Victor nodded again. Rial gave him a small smile. "Then it's already obvious what you are going to do, isn't it?" he asked.

"It is?" Victor looked up.

"Of course," Rial said. "You are a good person, Your Majesty, and that also makes you a good ruler. The love you feel for your people...will always affect your decisions."

"So what should I do?" Victor asked.

"That is not up to me, Your Majesty," Rial said, standing up, pulling Victor with him. "But I know you will make the right decision."

In hindsight, Rial had no idea what he had just set in motion with those words. But the look of relief that crossed Victor's face, along with the sudden and tight hug he gave Rial, almost made it all worth it...

"Thank you, Rial," Victor said, buttoning up his jacket and adjusting his sash. "I knew I could talk to you."

As the prince left, Rial began cleaning up the practice equipment, wondering just what kind of talk they'd just had. It sure as hell hadn't been long, and there'd been no detail involved. _Maybe just as well,_ Rial thought. _Maybe Rehm has betrothed him to some foreign noble that will help the kingdom's wealth, and his father is opposed to it..._ At that thought, he paused and stared at the sword in his hand. With an angry yell, he hurled it at a wooden pillar in the middle of the large room, where it stuck, vibrating. _Stupid, stupid, stupid,_ he thought, breathing heavily, _you just had your chance!_

* * *

**Soul Remnants**

**Chapter 6**

* * *

"I cannot thank you enough, kind sirs," the fat commander said as he bowed again despite Link and Sheik's protests. As he spoke, the jowls beneath his chin jiggled like jelly, and the buttons of his shirt threatened to tear loose and take out everyone in the small guardhouse. "Those poor soldiers would not have been recovered for weeks had you not found them." He bowed again, the waistline of his black pants straining against his impressive girth.

As they emerged back into the morning light, Sheik paused, turning back to the commandant. "Wait, for weeks?" he asked. "Surely you have regular patrols, or at least normal traffic along that road that would've found them?"

The commander looked embarrassed. "No one really travels along the roads anymore, I'm afraid." He leaned close to them and whispered loudly in the way people whisper about public secrets, "Because of the bandits, you see."

Link and Sheik exchanged a look. This was a surprising development.

"Anyway," the commander continued, fishing a leather pouch out of his pocket (surprising both the Hero and the Sheikah as neither of them expected anything to fit in it) and shook it lightly. Something jingled. "I think such information is worth a reward, don't you?" He smiled and deposited ten gold coins into Link's hand. "I know it's not much, but times are tough. If you tell the commander of the guard in Lumina City that I sent you, he will probably give you more. Thanks again, gentlemen, and have a safe journey."

They slowly made their way to the main gate, quietly observing the life in the small town they had entered. Small was the right word. There were hardly more than twenty buildings including the guardhouse, though the population clearly outnumbered the buildings by a couple hundred. And yet, the military had seen fit to build a massive wall at least thirty feet high. _With bloody turrets!_ Either the bandits were an army unto themselves, or the army was just paranoid.

They'd been forced to spend the night here after their encounter with the bandits during the night, the leader kindly (albeit shakily) describing the way to the capital city, after which they had let them go, bruised egos and all. There was no way the two were going to make it before daybreak, and they were both tired, so the tiny little town appearing by the side of the road was a blessing. The inn had been crowded, but they _had_ managed to get a room to themselves, with a little persuasion of the jingling kind.

"Did you hear that?" Link said quietly as they approached the stables close to the gate. "No one travels on the roads anymore."

"Mhm," Sheik confirmed. "Makes you wonder just how stricken this kingdom is. The commander looked mortified when we told him about the tax collectors. Like he was afraid of the bandits. And those taxes must really be necessary, if this wall is anything to judge it by." He pointed out the crumbling stones and cracks that looked ready to bring the less than impressive wall down at any moment.

"Or not," Link said, gesturing to the town in general. "If people can't afford to build more houses for themselves, how can the king expect them to pay taxes."

Sheik shook his head. "I'm starting to wonder what kind of economic policies this king of theirs has put into effect in the past seven years. This kingdom was in trouble before the war started, and it definitely doesn't look like things have improved since."

They got Epona, Maladict and Shun out of the stables and were soon back on the dusty road, heading in the direction of Lumina City. The commander had assured them of the way, even drawn them a small map on a scrap of paper, but they still kept a close eye on the road signs, just to be safe.

While the small villages and towns they passed along the way looked…for the lack of a better word, _poor_ , the countryside of Lumina itself was wondrous. Lush, green forests with strange animal life covered almost every part of it that was not occupied by burgeoning fields of wheat and oats and whatever else people around these parts grew. Link was enjoying himself immensely, it seemed, especially when he spotted some sort of unknown animal among the trees and tried to get its attention.

Sheik's mind was still resting on the task Zelda had given him. Trying to find out if the king of Lumina had designs upon Hyrule…how was he going to find that out? He supposed he could try and sneak into the king's office and discover some documents or something similar, but if he were to be caught in the act… He couldn't outright ask either, and he was sure he was going to be watched intently if they knew who he was anyway. Speaking of which, how were they going to enter the castle to thank the king for his help to begin with? Had Zelda sent out notices? Were they supposed to just march straight up to the gates and demand to be let in? Or would someone meet them?

"Hey, look," Link suddenly said, pointing ahead of them. Sheik looked, and smiled.

The road suddenly ran into an open area again, flanked on almost all sides by tall cliffs, hundreds of feet high at the very least. A gigantic lake occupied most of the valley, the water reflecting the slightly cloudy blue sky above. A long, wooden bridge, seemingly floating on the water, led to the other side of the lake, where a road continued between the two opposing cliffs and further along the road to the capital. According to the commander, that road would lead them to the highway, which would take them the rest of the way to Lumina City.

But that wasn't what Link was pointing at. No, he was pointing at a large building on the other side of the lake, tucked away against the left cliff side. It was a large and sturdy building, and smoke was floating up from the chimney. By the looks of it, it seemed to be a sort of inn, bigger and better than the one in which they had spent the night. It was painted red with black details and edges, easily standing out against the cliff and the surrounding grass and trees.

"Wish we'd seen that last night," Link said as they crossed the bridge, the hooves of their mounts clopping loudly on the planks. The bridge gently bobbed up and down, swaying slightly as it made waves in the otherwise perfectly still water. "Looks a lot better."

"If we hadn't stopped where we did last night, we would have gotten lost and probably gone right past it anyway," Sheik said, noticing that the front door of the building had opened, and a man had stepped out on the porch. Sheik wasn't able to make out the appearance of the man, but he could definitely see that he was crossing his arms. Sheik didn't bother fishing out his spyglass; he already knew the man was glaring at them. "And I don't think we'd have been welcome."

Sheik kept his eye on the man until the cliffs obscured his view of the building and then turned his attention on a sign that was lying on the ground. It was old and worn, but he could still make out the letters on it.

**Angen Inn**

_So it_ was _an inn,_ he thought. _Innkeeper didn't look too friendly, though…probably thought we were bandits._

He put those thoughts behind him and focused on the road ahead.

* * *

They both felt an overwhelming surge of relief when they finally reached the highway. Unlike the small and dusty roads they'd travelled on so far, this one was cobbled and wide, accommodating more traffic than Sheik thought could ever be in one place at the same time. Not only that, but it was almost completely straight as well, only curving where the land (typically mountains or lakes) would not yield to conventional tools. Lining the highway were lantern posts, none of which were lit, it seemed, but it was a nice touch and definitely a deterrent to bandits when they were. And now they were finally on the right way.

After following it for about an hour, they rounded a curve that took them along the edge of another sheer cliff (something Lumina didn't seem to have a shortage of at all), overlooking a deep, forested valley (another prominent feature of the kingdom).

They spotted it at the same time. Far off in the distance, something gleamed brightly in the sun with such intensity that looking directly at it made Sheik's eye sting painfully. By the look of it, it was only a few miles away. Sheik reached for his spyglass and examined the object. It was a tower. It had a golden orb at the very top which had most likely been polished until it blinded anyone who looked at it for too long. As they moved along the highway, more and more towers appeared, spaced evenly from each other, it seemed, only visible over the treetops.

Little by little, they began to overtake carts, wagons and other travellers who were headed the same way. Many of these travellers seemed to be nobility and other rich people, Sheik noticed, their expensive clothes and banners giving them away. Link kept staring at the humans' ears, like he had been doing back in the town as well, his fascination with them unceasing. Granted, the humans had stared at them just as much, but that was probably because of their bedraggled appearance. No matter how well-groomed you are at the beginning, and no matter how much you try to stay that way, a few weeks on the road will make anyone look like they did—tired and hungry. That, and they had probably never seen ears like the ones Link and Sheik had. It was a fair trade, Sheik supposed.

The traffic thickened as they got closer and closer to the towers, and when the city finally came into their view, the two could do little but stare in awe at the golden city.

The commander had kept referring to the capital as the Luminous City, and they could see why. The gigantic defensive walls, which were at least a couple hundred feet high, were all made of a bright white rock polished to shine brightly as the sunlight hit it, and here and there a brick had been replaced by a golden one, creating interesting patterns here and there. Beautiful, but a bloody waste of gold and a structural weakness, in Sheik's opinion, but Link didn't seem to care. The turrets and walls were lined with armed soldiers, and what seemed to be metal tubes, all of them pointing out at the landscape in front of the walls. Sheik couldn't resist pulling out his spyglass again and looking more closely at the defences. The large metal tubes were obviously some sort of weapon, but he couldn't quite discern their use.

"How big _is_ this place?" Link asked as they approached the main gates, outside which a large queue had formed. The portcullis was gigantic, wide than twenty men standing abreast, and the metal doors that covered it were even bigger, not to mention _massive_.

"Last I checked," Sheik said, "more than two million inhabitants."

"Wow."

"Wow indeed. The amount of water that must be in the soil in order to support a city this large, not to mention the necessary food supply and other essential goods and wares required to keep this city alive must be mind-boggling." He looked at the buildings scattered on the grounds outside the gates, noticing the king's banner on all of them. "These must be barracks. The kingdom may be small, but they quite a large standing army and the logistics of keeping _that_ running must be a nightmare, and...yes, what is it?"

Sheik gave the Hero a questioning glance. Link had been prodding his shoulder for a good ten seconds now. The Hero was staring up into the sky. For a second, Sheik thought Link was having a staring contest with the sun, but, upon looking up himself, he realised that the Hero was staring at a large object that was floating far above the city. It too gleamed in the sunlight, and Sheik was certain that he could see ropes hanging from it. Up the spyglass went, and he realised quickly what it was.

"It's...it's a ship!" he exclaimed.

Link blinked. "A ship?" he asked.

"See for yourself," Sheik said, handing him the spyglass. "There are walkways and gangplanks, cabins...lots of people as well." There were more of the strange tubes as well, but Sheik didn't mention them.

"But...it's _flying_ ," Link said incredulously. "How can it be flying?"

"I don't know," Sheik said, grabbing the spyglass back. "But there seems to be some sort of balloon at the very centre of the construction...maybe it's filled with...no, that's absurd. Must be magic. Has to be."

"I thought you said they didn't like magic here," Link said.

"I..." Sheik trailed off, remembering his description of the kingdom to Link a few nights ago. "Then I have no idea what I am looking at, Link."

"That's a first," Link said, giving Sheik a small grin, to which the Sheikah responded with a glare. "What? It's true! You usually act all high and mighty with your knowledge about everything in the whole damn world, and now you're confused by a flying ship? It's funny!"

Sheik shook his head and looked back at the highway. A man was passing by close to them on foot. Sheik leaned down and smiled. "Excuse me, can I ask you a question?"

The man gave him a surprised look for a few seconds, clearly focusing, in order, his ears, his eyes and his clothes. "Uh, yes?" he answered.

"I was wondering if you knew anything about that flying ship up there," Sheik said, pointing at the ship in question.

"Oh, that?" the man said. "That's _The Chimera_ , an airship. It's the king's new toy and a waste of money if you ask me, but who am I to question our _great_ and _honourable_ leader?" He took in Sheik and Link's appearances again. "Let me guess…you are both from Hyrule, no?"

"That's right!" Link said happily. "I'm Link and this is Sheik!"

Sheik felt like clobbering Link over the head for revealing their names to a stranger, but it was too late now…

"My name is Martin," the man said, giving them a nod. "I would very much like to stay and exchange some more words, but I have urgent business in the city and must be off." And with that he went to the queue by the gates, quickly disappearing in the crowd.

"Well...that was rude," Sheik said, shrugging.

"Looks like there's some sort of party being arranged," Link said, guiding Epona towards one of the lampposts. A large poster had been wrapped around the base, and the Hero tore it loose. On it, the outline of the flying ship had been painted, and a large paragraph filled with words such as 'Brotherhood', 'Titanic, 'Tradition' and 'Mighty' was written underneath, as well as the phrases '...last for another glorious millennium' and 'Peace, prosperity and security'. The Hero scanned the lines. "They're celebrating for over a week? That thing?" he asked, pointing at the ship.

"It is obviously a technical marvel," Sheik said, still wondering how something so large could possibly stay afloat without the aid of magic, "not to mention the revolutionary engineering techniques required to build it...definitely something to celebrate, methinks."

"While the rest of the country starves?" said Link.

"Apparently," replied Sheik. He took the poster from Link and looked it over. Whoever had written the description of this _**Glorious Celebration of Luminan Technical and Humanitarian Achievements Festival**_ must have hated his dictionary so much that he burned it afterwards. Or, more likely, they burned the dictionary _before_ writing this and simply winged it. Either way, it was a grammatical, historical and illogical nightmare to read. He had Link put it back on the lamppost before they headed towards the gates, where they dismounted and led their horses through the throngs of people.

And there they waited. And waited. And waited.

After about an hour and a half, Link sighed loudly and stamped his feet on the cobbled ground. "What the hell is taking so long?" he asked.

"You tell me," Sheik said. He was staring into the back of the head of the man in front of him, unable to move an inch because of the press of the people and horses around them. "You're tall enough to see ahead." Once again he was reminded of the fact the he quite a bit shorter than the Hero, and it annoyed him greatly. The fact that people were staring at them didn't help either, now that he thought about it.

"There's a huge desk by the gate," Link said, standing on the tiptoes of his boots. "I think they're checking people for something..."

"Weapons, most likely," Sheik murmured. "Or something else. Probably something to do with the celebration."

"We're not allowed to bring weapons into the city?" Link asked, his hand flying to his saddlebag where he kept the Master Sword. "I'm not leaving this in the hands of some grubby city guard!"

Sheik was about to say something about local customs, political missteps and the like when someone suddenly blew a trumpet, deafening the people closest to the gate and silencing the rest, including the two travellers.

"Listen up!" a guard said, standing on top of a stack of crates. He was wearing the uniform of a corporal, by the looks of it. Not that Sheik had any idea what the different symbols on his tabard meant, but he had the air of a typical corporal about him. "We are expecting two diplomats from the kingdom of Hyrule!" he announced loudly. "If you are here, please raise your hands! I repeat, will the two diplomats from Hyrule please raise their hands!"

They could hardly believe their luck. Link threw his hand in the air and shouted, "Over here! We're over here!" much to the annoyance of the people around them.

"Let them through, please!" the corporal shouted. "Let them through!"

"Wait, are we sure that we're the diplomats?" Sheik asked.

"Too late to wonder about that," Link said as the crowd started to part.

The corporal waited for them by the long desk, behind which several official-looking men and women were sitting with pens and stamps at the ready. They looked like notaries, and the papers they seemed to be signing and stamping were probably entry passes. "You are the Hero of Time and the Sheikah noble?" the corporal asked.

"That is us," Sheik said, nodding, not missing the tiny amount of snark the corporal had inserted into his sentence. He probably thought that the titles were meaningless. _Disrespectful,_ he thought. _Zelda would have dealt with him most severely. Probably with needles of the sewing persuasion._

"Do you have any proof of your identities?" the corporal asked snidely, clearly not believing them.

"Uh, what do you call these?" Link asked, flicking his own ears and, after a second's thought, Sheik's, which made the Sheikah look sharply at the Hero in a displeased manner. "Or this?" the Hero continued, ignoring Sheik's glare and gesturing towards his lover's eyes. "Ever seen eyes like that before?" he asked.

"I—"the corporal began...

"Or is this good enough?" Link said, pulling out the Master Sword in a smooth motion, showing the hilt to the corporal, grinning.

"I...I was told you would have documentation..." the corporal said meekly, his eyes locked to the blade.

"Of course, how silly of us," Sheik said, remembering the official letters Zelda had seen fit to put in their bags before they left, which basically informed whoever read them of who Link and Sheik were and what status they had. Sheik had looked them over one night and almost choked on his tea when he saw what title she had awarded him: Earl. Not the highest title by far, certainly, but also one that had not been used in Hyrule for centuries. Zelda had resurrected it specifically for _him_. He fished the papers out of his bag and handed it to the corporal, who in turn handed it to one of the notaries. The grim-faced woman quickly skimmed the pages and, with a satisfactory nod, stamped them and handed them back to the corporal.

"Everything seems to be in order," the corporal said, recovering from the ordeal of watching someone pull a longsword out and sticking it in his face. He nodded to a guard by a smaller side gate, who opened it. "Welcome to Lumina City, k—er, gentlemen," he said, giving a half-hearted salute. "Someone on the other side will greet you and show you around."

The gate was barely big enough for Maladict to fit through, and the passage on the other side that went through the massive walls wasn't much better, but they more or less squeezed through. This seemed to be a guardhouse, judging by the glowing windows set in the stone wall on the left side of the passage. A pair of guards opened the corresponding gate at the end of the passage, and they were through.

"Wow."

Sheik was quite sure Link was the one who had said it, but he certainly thought the same thing. Nothing he had ever seen in his life could have prepared him for this. Castle Town, the oldest, largest and richest city in Hyrule and its surrounding lands, was nothing compared to Lumina City. The towers they had seen from the road were merely scattered pillars, giving but a hint of the splendours of the city proper. Streets paved with gold, houses built from the finest marble and majestic fountains littered the gigantic square just behind the gates. Carriages, led by neither horse nor man and large enough for over a dozen people, ran up and down the streets along tracks, propelled by an unseen and silent force. The lower parts of the towers were covered in banners, most of them the king's. Even the shortest buildings in the capital rivalled the tallest ones of Castle Town, making Link and Sheik feel very small indeed. And everywhere, people. Thousands in the square, and Sheik couldn't even imagine how many occupied the rest of the city. Military platoons were marching up and down the streets, not even fazed by the carriages that zipped by them, executing complex manoeuvres and formations to the wonder of the gathered onlookers.

"Wow," Link said again.

"Yes..." Sheik said, unable to come up with anything else to say.

And high above, _The Chimera_ floated, shimmering in the midday sun.

"Hero of Time and Lord Sheikah?" a voice asked from their right. They turned and saw a middle-aged woman dressed in fine robes and silks coloured red and green. Her hair, a shade of red so strong it might as well have been fire, was put up in an impressive bun that would have put Kaura's to shame.

"Yes?" Sheik said.

She curtsied. "I am Ise, member of the Lumina City council, and I am here to welcome you to our fair city and, indeed, our beautiful country." She shook their hands. "It is good to see a Hylian once again," she said after Sheik and Link had introduced themselves. "And not least a Sheikah. I had heard that your magnificent people were suffering a decline..."

"We are," Sheik said, not really liking the fact that she brought it up within seconds of meeting him. "I am the only survivor."

Ise's face froze, and she bowed her head. "I apologise profusely, my lord, I did not mean any harm or insult with my thoughtless comment, I—"

"it's alright, councillor," Sheik said hurriedly, shaking his head. "It is a fact I have long since come to terms with, though it was perhaps slightly inappropriate to mention it during our first meeting. But let us put that behind us."

"Of course, of course," Ise said, looking at Link. "I have heard much of your exploits, Hero of Time, Lord Sheikah, and I look forward to speaking more to you later during the celebration." She nodded at a young man who had been standing rather unnoticeably against the wall behind her, impressing even Sheik with his stealth. "This is Jeryd, my assistant. He will show you to your lodgings and, should you desire so, around the city. The king has taken the liberty of giving you a couple of rooms at an inn just across the street from the castle. He would rather have had you stay in the castle itself, of course, but recent reconstructions have left the guest quarters quite inhabitable. He hopes you will understand."

"It'll do fine, I think," Link said, smiling.

"That will be a relief to his majesty, I have no doubt," Ise said, curtsying again. "Then, gentlemen, I must leave you. We will speak again at tonight's festivities, I expect."

As Ise left, flanked by a pair of unseen bodyguards, the young man Jeryd stepped forward, bowing.

"My lords, I am Jeryd and will act as your guide, servant and assistant during your stay in the city. Please, if there is anything I can do, let me know." As he straightened up, he smiled.

He was quite attractive, Sheik thought. Jeryd looked to be in his early twenties, with striking blue eyes and shoulder-length blond hair that he kept tied back. He wore robes as well, though clearly not as expensive or elegant as Ise's. He also carried a bejewelled dagger in his belt, though that seemed to be more decorative than of any use. Even so...he was standing with his knees slightly bent and his feet pointing a little bit outwards, as if he was ready to run away or strike out at the slightest provocation. This man had received combat training.

"Nice to meet you, Jeryd," Link said, and they shook hands in turn.

"The pleasure is all mine, my lord," Jeryd said, taking in their appearances. "Would you like me to take you to your lodgings first? I am sure you would like to leave your baggage there and perhaps freshen up. Afterwards, maybe you would like to see more of the city and I know of a terrific—"

"That...sounds like a good idea," Sheik interrupted. It really did sound like a good idea. Especially the freshening up part. He was more tired than he expected.

"Excellent," Jeryd said, smiling broadly. "Just follow me and we shall...oh, I'm sorry, but there's a strict policy on not allowing horses beyond this square." He eyed Epona, Maladict and Shun (who were all behaving very well, all things considered, though they seemed somewhat nervous) and frowned.

"What?" Link asked. "Then what are we supposed to do with them?"

Jeryd thought for a few seconds. "I suppose they can be taken to the royal stables just outside the gates," he said hesitantly. "As the king's guests, I'm sure that is allowed. If that is to your satisfaction, of course." He suddenly looked nervous, for some reason.

"That will be perfect, I think," Sheik said. He didn't like the idea of leaving Maladict and the others behind, but starting a quarrel with the guards over the legality of horses in the streets didn't sound all that appealing at the moment. "As long as they are treated nicely," he added.

"Of course," said Jeryd. "The royal stables aren't royal in name only. They will be treated better than some of the nobles, in fact, heh."

Jeryd quickly made the arrangements with a few guards who came and took the horses away, though Link clearly didn't like leaving Epona in the hands of strangers. Sheik tried to assure him that things would be fine, but the Hero remained sceptical. They hefted their packs on their shoulders and began to follow Jeryd as he directed them towards a small, open-sided shack on one side of the street. One of the carriage tracks ran right alongside it, and several humans were waiting inside it. A carriage came to a quiet stop next to it, and Jeryd had Link and Sheik board it as well. There were no doors, a simple rope acting as a barrier to prevent people from falling off the carriage. There were a few uncomfortable wooden seats, but they were all occupied. After everyone had boarded, a man in the front pulled on a large lever in the floor of the carriage, and something made it jerk forward, quickly picking up speed. Soon, they were gliding along the street.

Link was amazed by all this, pestering Jeryd with questions about how it worked. Jeryd explained that a steel cable ran underground in the tracks, which a hook on the underside of the tram (which was the official name for it) was hooked on to, which made the tram move. The man in the front, the driver controlled this with the lever and a pair of brakes by his feet. Sheik wondered who had come up with the idea and why; it was certainly very convenient, but how practical would it be during times of distress?

"Why was there such a line to get into the city?" Sheik asked suddenly.

"Pardon, my lord?" Jeryd asked.

 _How I wish he'd stop saying that,_ Sheik thought, the idea of being addressed as a lord making him very uncomfortable. "The gates are closed and identities were being checked thoroughly. Why is this?"

Jeryd looked uncomfortable and leaned forward so that only Link and Sheik could hear him. "Between you and me, my lords, our kingdom is going through a bit of a rough patch at the moment," he said. "Food shortages have become a troubling issue, and peasants all over the land have begun to revolt."

"And the king decides to throw a huge celebration?" Link said.

"It is not for me to question the wisdom of His Majesty," said Jeryd, though his voice told a different story. "Perhaps he is doing it to boost morale."

 _Perhaps that would have worked,_ Sheik thought. _If it wasn't for the fact that it only seemed like the rich and nobility were allowed to enter the city..._

Jeryd began to describe the different streets of the city and their historical significance, which, in all honesty, was the most boring lecture Sheik had ever received (and he had carefully studied the five hundred years of agricultural history of Hyrule under Impa! At least that had been mildly entertaining with border disputes between farmers). Link seemed interested enough, but that hardly came as a surprise. Adult he may be, but Link still had curiosity like a child, and he kept interrupting Jeryd to make him explain a term he didn't understand.

In the meantime, Sheik continued thinking about his strategy for executing Zelda's mission. There had to be some way to access such information without arousing suspicion...

* * *

Victor was carefully led into the room, the blindfold in front of his preventing him from seeing anything except the vague outlines of things in the torchlight. Rehm told him where to duck or raise his legs so he wouldn't crash into or stumble over things. "This is ridiculous, Rehm," Victor said, wanting nothing more than to rip the blindfold from his eyes. "Why can't I see where I'm going?"

"Your Majesty, it is imperative that you do not know the location of this room," Rehm said kindly, gently resting a hand on Victor's shoulder. "At least, not until your father has...stepped down."

"Why?" Victor asked.

"That will become clear to you soon enough," Rehm said. "Ah, here we are." Victor heard the creak of a door opening and was urged into the room by the councillor. He realised that putting himself completely at the man's mercy perhaps wasn't the best idea in the world, but he trusted Rehm. He'd known him since he was a child, after all. The door closed behind him, and Rehm cleared his throat. "I will remove the blindfold now, Your Majesty," he said and removed the fabric.

Victor blinked as the room slowly came into focus, his eyes getting used to the light. It was one of the dungeons, though he had recognised the way they had taken to get here. It was an odd room, with strange angles that didn't make any sense and shadowed corners that by all physical laws _should_ have been lit by the torches that burned on the walls. "What is this place?" he asked, noticing a throne made of stone on a raised platform to one side of the room.

"It is...one of the less savoury rooms of this castle," Rehm said. "One of the old kings enjoyed watching his subjects being tortured in front of him, hence the throne and the...drain."

Victor looked and saw that a drain had been placed in the middle of the floor, not far from the throne. There were dark stains around the hole. "That's...disgusting," Victor said.

"So it is," Rehm agreed, "but I chose this room because very few people know of its existence. Your father certainly doesn't." He gestured at the throne. "Please, have a seat."

"I'm not sure if I can," Victor said, eyeing it with distaste.

"You are meeting a very special person here, Your Majesty," said Rehm, "it is important that you appear regal and authoritative."

"Why?" Victor said, seating himself in the throne, which, he hated to admit, was surprisingly comfortable. A few pillows, and— _No, I am not going to decorate a torture throne!_

"He is...picky regarding his clients," Rehm said.

"A picky assassin?" Victor asked. "That's new."

"He is the best, Your Majesty. It is only natural for him to pick whom he works for carefully."

Someone knocked on the door, and Rehm opened it. It was Lady Marlotta and General Agon, both dressed in their finest. Marlotta's flowing dress and jewels made her look quite regal, while Agon's tightly stretched shirt and trousers—which were clearly made for a man two sizes smaller—made him look like an exotic, inflating fish. They both bowed to Victor, who nodded back. "General, Lady."

"Your Majesty," they both said.

"How go the celebrations?" Rehm asked.

"Rambunctiously, I'd say," Agon said, shaking his head dismally. "With the announcement that the celebration would be extended into a week-long festival, the amount of peasant revolts have increased. The amount of food and drink required to keep the festival going will just rob more of their livelihoods. I was also informed that one of the king's tax collector carts has been attacked and robbed with every man killed."

"How awful," Lady Marlotta said, shaking her head as well.

"The sooner we end this, the better," Rehm said.

"Your plan will work?" Agon asked.

"I am certain it will, general."

"Excuse me..." Victor said.

"Your Majesty?"

"I still haven't been informed of this plan of yours, councillor," he said. "I'd very much like to hear it, especially if I am to endorse it."

Rehm nodded and turned to him fully. "As I am certain you have heard, Your Majesty, your father has invited all manners of diplomats and guests from our allied countries."

"I have."

"Well, we have received word that among these ambassadors and diplomats, two representatives of Hyrule will be present. One of them happens to be a renowned assassin and warrior. His knowledge of the deadly arts will be pivotal in my plan. When your father dies, the blame will easily be put on him. Due to Hyrule's militarily weak position, they will be able to do little than ransom their representatives back, and with General Mirn there, the princess will not dare to launch an attack."

"So...we're taking advantage of a country that has been at war with a usurper for the past seven years?" Victor said, the plan leaving a bad taste in his mouth. He still did not feel right with killing his father either, but he couldn't sit by and watch the country blow itself up. Better one than many, as a famous general had once said. "I do not like this, Rehm. Why can't we just have him killed without any scapegoats?"

"Because the nobles will realise that we were behind it," Rehm said calmly, "and they will never accept your ascent to the throne. Civil war will be fact."

"Is it worth losing our alliance with Princess Zelda for it, though?" Victor said.

"I'd say it is, Your Majesty," Marlotta said. "With Hyrule in ruins, there is little we could gain from such an alliance anyway."

"I see..."

A silence fell upon the room. No one knew what to say.

"Where is that bloody assassin, anyway?" Agon asked suddenly. "He was supposed to be here before we came."

"I have been here the entire time," an unfamiliar voice said as a shadow detached itself from one of the corners, revealing a figure clad in a tight-fitting, dark-grey coloured outfit. Several straight edges had been cut into the fabric; a technique Victor knew would help the assassin blend into his surroundings in the darkness. Straight edges made the viewer think of objects, not people. The assassin head and face was covered by a hood, though Victor could clearly see a scarred cheek in the torchlight. It looked... _burned_. The assassin was of average height, perhaps a bit taller than Victor, and they didn't seem to be carrying any weapons. At least, not any that Victor could _see_. Bandages had been tied around their arms and legs, likely to minimise air resistance. "Pardon me for the intrusion," the assassin said, his voice clearly male, though quite young to be a successful assassin.

Rehm didn't skip a beat, though Marlotta, Agon and Victor had all been surprised by the assassin's sudden appearance. "Ah, it is good to see that your reputation was not exaggerated, Mr...?"

"K," the assassin said. "Just call me K. Names are too compromising."

"Of course," said Rehm. "Anonymity is alpha and omega, am I right?"

"Yes," K said. And that was it.

 _Man of few words, this K,_ Victor thought.

"Your fee?" Rehm asked. "We did not agree upon this in our correspondence.

"Twenty thousand gold, five hundred silver and ten of your finest diamonds," K said quickly. "Agree, or the job will not be done."

"Agreed," Rehm said.

Victor nearly choked on the price. That was absolutely ridiculous, and he voiced his opinion on this.

"The price is what it is because I am the best," K said, his eyes focusing on Victor. The prince couldn't see them, but he _felt_ them. "The price is what it is because I can guarantee that the job will be done."

"Of course, of course," Rehm said. "Now, I assume you will want the details on the persons involved?"

"Only the two representatives," K said. "I have already gathered intelligence on the king."

"Excellent," Rehm said. "Now, the two representatives of Hyrule are known as Link, the Hero of Time, a meaningless and decorative position if I ever saw one, and Lord Sheikah, Earl of Hyrule, a newly established—"

"Sheikah?" K asked, his voice freezing to ice.

"Yes," Rehm said slowly. "Is that a problem?"

"The price is doubled," K said. "Sheikah are difficult to deal with, especially if this is the one I think it is."

"You have come up against them before?" Victor asked, determined to be a part of this conversation.

K paused, bowing his head. "Yes," he said suddenly, "I have. Excellent fighters, bodyguards and assassins. Pinning the blame on them will be difficult, therefore the doubled price. Accept, or I will leave."

Rehm and Victor exchanged a look. This did not sound good. _Can we even afford this?_ Victor wondered. Rehm shot him a pleading look, and Victor realised that the councillor had probably betted everything on this one assassin. They had to pick this one, or they'd have to wait even longer to stop the king's madness. He gave Rehm an almost imperceptible nod. _I'm going to regret this, I'm sure of it._

"We agree," Rehm said.

"I shall get to work immediately," K said. "When do you wish the hit to take place?"

"Tonight, preferably," Marlotta said. "We know that the three will definitely be in the same room during the dinner and subsequent ball."

"Very well," K said. "By midnight tonight, the king will be dead."

* * *

**Soul Remnants**

**Chapter 7**

* * *

It took them quite a while to get to the inn, even with the amazing tram. The streets towards the upper portion of the city, especially the ones close to the castle, were packed with people already enjoying the beginning stages of the festival or celebration or whatever synonym the horrendous writer had settled on. Sheik lost count of the times the tram driver had to ring his bell, shouting for people to get out of the way. Link was amused at this and had to stifle a laugh. Seeing this made Sheik want to laugh as well, but he was a foreign dignitary in this city—they both were, actually, but Sheik didn't want to be seen bickering with his fellow diplomat—and he had to be on his best behaviour. He looked over at Jeryd, who was sitting with his eyes closed peacefully. He had been describing monuments and important buildings and their significance in Lumina's history on their way up here, but he had suddenly gone silent, claiming that the buildings here were newer and not so important, which Sheik found slightly strange.

He didn't tell Jeryd, however, that he had accidentally looked inside one of the buildings when a door was opened, and he had seen what appeared to be the treasury inside. It had looked somewhat empty, but that was not exactly news, was it? The people of the city didn't seem to know about the economic and social troubles outside their gates, though, almost as if they were simply not acknowledging the problem—or maybe they weren't told about it.

Sheik took a moment to study Jeryd. He wasn't asleep, Sheik could easily see that. He seemed to be meditating, his hands clasped together in his lap, his legs spread a little apart and his back firmly against the bench of the tram (he had chased away a few commoners so that the diplomats and he could sit, which Sheik didn't approve of, but it _was_ nice to be able to sit down and rest, even for a little while). By the way he was expertly and carefully regulating his breath, Sheik also realised that he had been doing this for years and, if his combat training was comparable, then Jeryd could possibly be a formidable opponent. But this was all speculation, of course, and Sheik wasn't in any hurry to find out if Jeryd was good at fighting. Besides, Jeryd seemed like a peaceful man anyway. There was not a scar in his youthful, handsome face, and he didn't seem all that bulky—but that could easily be hidden by robes like ones he was wearing, Sheik noted—and the young man just seemed to extrude serenity around him. Sheik was about to look away when he noticed that Jeryd's lips were unusually red, almost as if—

"Is there something wrong?" Jeryd asked, his eyes open and looking right back at Sheik and with a quizzical expression on his face.

Blushing at being caught staring, Sheik looked away. "No, nothing, I apologise. My mind wanders easily and I forget what I am looking at before descending into my thoughts." He shot Link a look, warning the Hero against vocalising whatever comment he had on his tongue.

"Oh, I see," said Jeryd and smiled, showing off his suspiciously white teeth. "I understand. I am very much the same way. Just now I began to meditate without informing you, which was very rude of me, and I apologise for that."

"Lot of apologising going on," said Link quietly, hiding a grin behind his hand. Sheik glared at him.

Just then the tram turned around a corner, and the diplomats were greeted with the full splendour and glory of the castle. It was smaller than Zelda's—or what had been Zelda's castle before Ganondorf had destroyed and reconfigured it to his own purposes—but the architecture was quite different. While there were the common turrets and ramparts that a standard castle was so famous for, this one also had the addition of several columns—both decorative and practical, it seemed—placed at even intervals all around the building. Two mighty towers rose from each wing, at the top of which flew the king's banners—a purple eagle accompanied by, of all things, an equally purple rat on a yellow background—flew high and tall in the wind. They discovered that _The Chimera_ was floating almost directly above it.

"It does not look very big from the front," said Jeryd apologetically as the tram came to a halt and he had two waiting servants begin unloading Sheik and Link's luggage, much to their discomfort. "But I can assure you that the castle grounds are quite extensive, and the garden is, if I may so, quite massive. It is such a shame that you should arrive on the occasion that much of the castle is blocked off by reconstruction efforts after the landing platform for the airship was built, and I'm sure His Majesty feels the same way."

"I'm actually quite impressed already," said Sheik, studying the castle walls. They were smooth and polished. Climbing them would be difficult if he was forced to take that route. Every now and then a stone was replaced by a block of what appeared to be black marble, which made for an interesting appearance. "Black marble is quite a rarity in these parts; I have been led to believe."

"Oh, indeed," said Jeryd. "Those marble blocks were imported here over a hundred years ago by the king's great-great grandfather, and they did not come cheap, I can tell you."

"Sheik, turn around, please," said Link slowly. Sheik did so, and blinked in confusion. Ise had said that their inn would be directly across the street from the castle, and that usually meant that it would be of higher quality than most other lodgings, but this… Someone had painstakingly tried to make an impressive, albeit inferior, copy of the castle's front, almost creating a mirror image. This inn lacked the armed guards and heavy gates that blocked off the real castle from the general public, but if Sheik hadn't known any better…

"Welcome to the Grand Hotel," said Jeryd proudly. "Built eighty-six years ago, it is the oldest still-operational hotel in the city. For decades this has been the chosen and preferred place for visiting dignitaries and nobles to stay, and I can also tell you that this is the single most luxurious place in the city with the exception of the castle. Booking a room here is practically impossible unless you know people in high places, and I must say that you are quite lucky to be able to stay here." Jeryd drew another breath, undoubtedly preparing to embark on another history lesson, but Link interrupted him with a raised hand.

 _Like a child,_ Sheik thought fondly.

"Yes, my lord?" asked Jeryd.

"First of all, call me Link, not 'my lord'," said Link, distaste for the way of being addressed rolling off him in waves, "and second, what did you call this place? A hotel?"

"Yes, my lor—"Link bit his lip—"Yes, Link," said Jeryd, almost biting his own lip in return in distaste at using a diplomat's given name. The lack of respect in it had to be gnawing at him, Sheik knew. He had been much the same way when Link had tried to get _him_ to use his real name rather than simply refer to him as The Hero. The young man quickly recovered, however, and nodded. "Yes, a hotel. It is just a more…dignified word for inn, to be honest. That, and they tend to be of a higher quality, but other than that…"

"I see," said Link, nodding.

"Anyway, shall we go in?" asked Jeryd, directing the servants to carry the bags inside. "I'm sure you would like some time to rest before this evening's ball."

Something bothered Sheik about that sentence, but he couldn't put a finger on what it was, so he let it go for now and followed Jeryd inside the…what was it now…hotel. Instead of a main gate, there was instead a set of gigantic glass doors that were opened by a pair of well-dressed men standing on either side of the doorway. The immediate area inside—called the lobby by Jeryd—was a large, empty room with the exception of a small reception desk at the other end. Jeryd quickly took care of payment and other details and then handed them both a key each.

"These are your room keys," he explained as they walked up the stairs to the rooms. "Please take good care of them as this is the only set. Unfortunately, we have been forced to book you into a double room, which means that you will have to share it. I hope that does not cause any inconvenience…"

"Not at all," said Link. "Sheik and I are used to sharing living quarters."

 _That was…surprisingly diplomatic,_ Sheik thought, having expected Link to blurt out the nature of their relationship immediately. Five flights of stairs later and they were standing outside a large double door. Jeryd had Sheik unlock it, and the servants immediately went inside with their luggage and quickly disappeared without a trace soon after. Jeryd waited outside while Link and Sheik inspected the room.

It was not proper to describe this as "a room" in singular form. While there was only a single bedroom with a pair of separated beds, the living quarters themselves were spread across several other rooms, including a washroom, a living room, a small kitchen area and a large balcony.

"Is the room to your liking?" Jeryd asked, appearing in the doorway. "I'm afraid we don't have anything bigger—"

"This will do just fine," Link said. "It's way bigger than I thought it'd be."

"I suppose calling it a double room is a faulty description," said Jeryd. "Suite is a more proper word, I believe." He walked over to a small desk in the living room and pulled out a large piece of paper. "This is a map of the city, if you wish to explore it further, though I daresay you should wait until after the ball. Food can be ordered up to your room from downstairs, just provide the receptionist with your room number. Do you have any questions, my lords?"

Link shook his head, still taking in the suite. The furniture and carpets were expensive, as were the decorations that littered the walls and every other space that was not occupied by anything else. The beds were positively huge—so huge that Sheik was sure he'd get lost in the sheets if they were dropped over his head—and…this was simply not a standard of living he was used to. It felt far too luxurious for the likes of him. Link didn't have any qualms, obviously, but he also knew that the Hero was just as comfortable wherever he stayed, whether it was this place or a small, dingy tavern in a tiny little village no one had ever heard of where everyone was each other's cousin or something like that.

Jeryd nodded amiably. "Well, then I shall take my leave of you for now. I am sure you would like to rest in peace while you—oh, I apologise," he blushed heavily as he realised what he had just said. "I am so sorry; I did not mean to say that!"

"It's okay," said Link, laughing. Sheik smiled as well. It was a very amusing slip of tongue, if somewhat ominous…

Jeryd continued blushing, especially at Sheik's smile, but nodded gratefully. "Thank you for understanding, my lords. In truth, you are the first diplomats I have ever served on my own, and I am quit nervous." He took a few seconds to recompose himself. "Now, I am sure that you would to rest up a little before the ball, so I shall take my leave."

Just then Sheik realised what he had been bothered by earlier, and stopped him. "You said that the ball is tonight?" he asked.

"Yes."

Sheik shot Link a look. "I'm afraid we do not have clothes that would be considered…fitting for the occasion. I am afraid to say that this diplomatic visit caught us by surprise." Showing up at a royal ball wearing shorts and short-sleeved shirts didn't seem proper, and Sheik still wasn't very happy about the way the exoskeleton he had taken over from Zelda drooped around his chest. And Link's usual attire just wasn't appropriate for any occasion other than adventuring.

Jeryd grinned. "Councillor Ise said something about such a possibility, and I have already taken the liberty of coming up with a remedy for that, if you will permit me, my lords."

"What is it?" asked Link.

Jeryd looked proud of himself. "I have made a reservation at the city's finest tailor, and he has assured me that as long as I can get your measurements and general design choices to him within…an hour or so, the outfits will be ready for tonight." Out of nowhere, he produced a measuring tape. "If it is your liking, of course," he added.

"Measurements, sure," Sheik said, "but design choices…I know little of such things."

"Me too," said Link. "I mean, look at me."

Now a grin so wide that it threatened to rip his face spread on Jeryd's mouth, and he looked ready to burst into fits of giggling. "I was almost hoping that you would say so, my lords," he said. "As it happens, I happen to think myself as quite skilled when it comes to style and fashion. If I may, I already have some ideas that I would like to suggest…"

What could they do? They accepted Jeryd's help, though he preferred to keep the designs a secret for now, and the human disappeared after taking their measurements, practically cackling with delight.

"What a strange guy," Link said as he stared after Jeryd running down the hallway. "I can't help thinking we just made a mistake…" he added.

Sheik found that he felt the exact same way.

They decided to stay in the suite for the rest of the day. They were still tired from travelling, and they just wanted some time alone without any prying eyes looking at them strangely. Hylians were apparently a rarity here judging by the way the humans stared at Link, and Sheik was just a plain anomaly, a thing no one thought could exist and therefore had to be stared at until there was nothing left of him.

* * *

Sheik was standing at the window, staring out at the city, wearing nothing but a pair of slacks. He had just taken a bath, and it was pleasant to just let his skin breathe for a while. Their room faced away from the castle, which was just as well. Instead, they were treated to a fabulous view of the city itself, and from this height it was easy to see why the people here were so proud of it. Dazzling, golden roofs filled his eyes, and he still could not see how some of those buildings could stand without toppling over or sinking into the ground.

He felt Link approach him from behind and smiled as the Hero wrapped his arms around him, pressing the Sheikah to his warm chest. He too had just come out of the bath. The Hero's fingers immediately found a scar near Sheik's ribs and began to gently rub it.

"Amazing city, huh?" Link asked, breathing hot air onto Sheik's ear. Whether it was intentional or not, it nevertheless set the Sheikah quivering with pleasure. "So huge and rich…"

"Yes," he replied woodenly, determined not to let Link win this. "I wonder how they are able to afford to keep it running…" As much as he'd like to show his appreciation for the Hero right now, he didn't want to take the chance on Jeryd suddenly appearing while they were…in the middle of things. That would be embarrassing, not to mention uncomfortable for all parties involved.

"They can't, remember?" Link said.

"Right…"

Link understood that Sheik wasn't interested in doing _that_ just now and stopped blowing into his ear, but continued embracing him. "You know, if the Deku Tree had told me seven years ago that I would someday be standing like this with you and in a city like this…I'd be sure he was lying to me."

"Let's be glad he didn't, then," said Sheik.

"And let's be glad you and I met, eh?"

Sheik didn't answer, for he knew that his smile and the way he relaxed into Link's arms would be all the proof the Hero needed.

"Link?" he said after a few seconds.

"Yeah?"

"Why aren't you wearing pants?"

Whatever Link was going to say was interrupted by a sharp series of knocks on their door. Sheik practically jumped out of Link's arms in panic, hoping to the Goddesses that whoever it was wouldn't just enter without permission. Link gave him a weird look and, without a sound, ducked back into the bathroom (surely to put on the ever-elusive and clever pants that outsmarted him from time to time) while Sheik threw on a shirt from his pack, wondering what the look had been about. Jeryd stood on the other side of the door, smiling like there was no tomorrow. He was carrying a heavy-looking bag in one hand and a small chest in the other.

"Did I interrupt something?" he asked, noticing the remnants of the blush on Sheik's face from Link's ear-blowing. "You look a little bothered..."

"Just came out of the bath," Sheik explained hurriedly, indicating his hair which was still wet.

"Of course, how silly of me," said Jeryd. "Your outfits are ready—I just picked them up from the tailor."

"That was...quick," said Sheik incredulous as he let Jeryd inside the suite.

"That particular one prides himself on the speed of his work," said Jeryd, carefully putting the bag and chest on a commode. "Also, he's got a small army of apprentices and journeymen working for him, so minor things are always completed at record pace. Not that these outfits were minor things, but then again I've had him on the standby since last week..."

"Last week?" asked Sheik. "You've been preparing our outfits for a week?" _That can't be right..._

"Hm?" Jeryd looked confused. "The letter from your princess said that you would need proper clothes once you got here, including ballroom outfits, and the task of preparing them was delegated to me. I thought you already knew..."

 _Zelda thinks of everything, it seems...except for telling us about her plans,_ Sheik thought. "I see," he said. "Well, she said no such thing to us, but I guess it slipped her mind to mention it when she told us to go here."

"Oh...well, I'm sure she didn't mean to," said Jeryd and opened the bag. "Now, I came up with the designs based on physical descriptions of you, but I never had anything visual to work with, so I'm not entirely sure of how it will look..." He looked through the contents of the bag, clicked his tongue and finally began tugging at something in it. "Now, there are certain restrictions for finery at the king's ball, so I was not able to play around with decorations all that much, but colours were optional, and I thought that since your eyes are such a deep shade of red..." He pulled something out.

"Now, the style is modelled after the uniform that the men of the royal family and the higher-ups in the military wear at formal occasions such as these, but the collar isn't as high, and since you do not have any medals for decoration, I did some research and had the tailor stitch the symbol of your people in red on the left breast instead. I apologise for any historical inaccuracies that may have turned up in the process—let me know about them and I shall have them fixed immediately. The off-white colour of the uniform itself will accentuate your, if I may say so, beautiful eyes and really make them come forward."

"My eyes...?" Sheik said, briefly touching the one he'd lost the use of. What Jeryd had said to him struck him as odd. Not odd in bad way, just...overly intimate.

"The details, such as buttons, stitching and folds are black, which looks good with the white, but the motives on the buttons themselves are gold, just to bring a little more colour into the mix," continued Jeryd, apparently not noticing Sheik's apprehension. His face was glowing with enthusiasm as he pointed out various features.

Sheik studied the outfit. It was definitely military in nature, all straight lines and handy pockets, but the colour, the red Sheikah eye on the left breast and all the other details that made it up turned out quite...handsome, if he could use such a way. It consisted of a jacket with five buttons that went diagonally up from left to right. There were clasps for optional epaulettes, but Sheik abhorred those things and was glad they were not included. There was a plain, white shirt to wear underneath. The trousers were in the same colour as the jacket, with a thick, black line going up each leg on the outside, but were otherwise quite devoid of artistry. All in all, it didn't look too bad, though Sheik missed some dark blue in all of it.

"What do you think?" Jeryd asked, looking expectantly at Sheik with such hopeful eyes that the very idea of saying anything negative about the outfit nearly broke Sheik's heart. The Sheikah smiled and nodded.

"It looks excellent, Jeryd, thank you."

Jeryd looked relieved, carefully folded the outfit—uniform, more like—and put it on the commode, next to the bag. Then he opened the chest and pulled out a pair of black riding boots. "These are standard, I'm afraid," he said apologetically, "but I've made sure that they're a little more comfortable than the usual ones."

"I think they will do fine," said Sheik, wondering what he would look like in it all. He noticed that the human was staring at him. "Is something wrong?" he asked.

"Aren't you going to try it on?" Jeryd asked. "If there is something you wish to be modified, we need to find out as soon as possible so we have the time to fix it before the ball."

"Oh, right. Certainly," said Sheik, feeling ridiculous. Warily he picked up the outfit, including the boots and headed for the bedroom. Where was Link when you needed him? There was a mirror in the bedroom, and he looked at himself as he slowly dressed himself in the uniform. It fit him perfectly, but that was only to be expected since it had been sown for him just a little while ago. The jacket, when buttoned up, clung rather tightly to his frame, but not uncomfortably so. The trousers did the same, and his figure was heavily accentuated by it all. He had to agree with Link; he was getting on the thin side of things. The boots also fit perfectly, and they were definitely the kind that wouldn't be uncomfortable to walk around in for hours on end, unlike other decorative footwear. Jeryd had been right, too—his eyes really did appear more vivid and noticeable now, if such a thing was even possible. The Sheikah eye on his breast blazed, and Sheik had to admit that Jeryd had done a very good job with the research on it, but he would have taken his hat off (if he had one) to the one who had sewn it.

He liked it. It wasn't something he was going to wear every day, of course, but he wouldn't hate showing up at the ball in it...unlike another certain outfit he had been given for a similar occasion by a certain group of desert thieves. No skirts in sight, and Sheik thanked the Goddesses for that.

He emerged from the bedroom to find Link being back into the bathroom by an exuberant Jeryd, barely catching a glimpse of something black in the Hero's arms. Jeryd wheeled around and spotted Sheik. His face went serious, and Sheik suddenly got a feeling that he had done something wrong as the human began walking around him, hm-ing and ha-ing as he took in every detail of Sheik's outfit.

"Well?" Sheik asked.

"Perfect," said Jeryd, grinning. "How about you? Do you like it?"

"I do," said Sheik, smiling as he straightened the collar, which stopped just short of his Adam's apple. "I like it a lot, actually. I only wish there was some dark blue in it, but I cannot imagine where it would go." It wasn't often Sheik indulged himself in fashion like this, but when would he get such a chance again?

"Hm, I think one more colour would have made it very crowded," said Jeryd, "at least in this style."

"You're probably right," said Sheik.

"Hey, is this looking okay, or am I...wow..." Link's voice trailed off behind them.

Sheik turned around and nearly gasped. Link had already put on his own outfit, which was in the same style as Sheik's, but nearly reversed in the colour scheme. His jacket and trousers were predominantly black with white stitching, buttons and folds. Instead of a Sheikah eye, however, Link had a golden image of the Triforce stitched on his left breast. While Sheik thought he looked dignified in his uniform, Link looked positively _regal_ in his. The boyish grin on his face, his hair and the ring in his ear made him look far less severe than he would without them, of course, but that was a good thing.

"I...uh...wow," the Hero tried again, letting his eyes roam all over Sheik, who was doing the same to Link. "You look...great..."

"As do you," Sheik managed to say; afraid of what would come out if he didn't concentrate.

"So you both like them?" Jeryd said hopefully. At their confirmation he looked ready to jump up and down with joy. "I'm so glad! I wasn't entirely sure if taking a chance on mirroring you with each other was a good idea, but I certainly don't regret the idea now! I just hope no one will confuse the Hero of Time with the prince, hehe, since his uniform is black also."

Link shifted a bit, uncomfortable under the intense gaze Sheik was sending him. There was just something so...irresistible about him right then. While Sheik looked lithe in his outfit, Link looked every bit the Hero he was supposed to be—strapping, but not burly. Strong, yet graceful.

"Now," continued Jeryd, "I believe that the Hero does not need to do anything else with his appearance, but I was wondering, my lord Sheikah, what you are planning to do with your hair?"

"What do you mean?" Sheik asked.

"Well, your hair looks gorgeous as it is, but I believe that it is of the proper length to put it up a bit, either with ribbons or clips—"

"No ribbons," Sheik said immediately. There were some things he would not do, no matter what people thought. Briefly, he regretted letting his hair grow out a little again.

"Very well," said Jeryd and nodded. "And I agree, ribbons would not flatter you, however..." he trailed off and began rummaging around in the bag, which was still not quite empty. "I think these will be quite lovely." He handed Sheik a pair of black hairclips. "Try these out when your hair dries, and decide then."

It occurred to Sheik right then that Jeryd was behaving improperly towards them. While he still called them lords and such, he talked to them as if they were his friends. Sheik didn't mind it, actually, as being a lord was probably the last thing he wanted, but he just hoped that they were a special case and that Jeryd didn't act like this around other foreign diplomats and dignitaries.

"Oh, and I almost forgot the most important things of all," said the human and pulled two pieces of paper out of his pocket. "You will need these invitations to get into the ball. How embarrassing it would be if I'd forgotten to give them to you, eh?" He gathered his things and headed for the door. "Now, if you will excuse me, my lords, I must go to Councillor Ise's side and help _her_ prepare for the ball. An assistant's job never ends, hehe. Remember, the ball starts at seven, and you get in through the main gates, which is directly across the street from the hotel entrance."

"Hey, are you going to be there?" Link asked right before Jeryd closed the door. The human smiled and nodded.

"I will, but only in the background. Enjoy yourselves tonight, my lords."

The door was closed, and Link and Sheik were left alone to stare at each other's clothes.

"Sheik," Link said slowly, "that outfit..."

"I could say the same about yours," Sheik replied. He looked at the hairclips in his hand. "I'm going to need your help with these later," he said.

Link only grinned happily.

* * *

**Soul Remnants**

**Chapter 8**

* * *

Sheik looked at himself in the mirror, turning this way and that, just to make sure that everything was in place. Now that he'd gotten used to it, he realised that he wasn't completely happy about the way the uniform was showing off his body—or more precisely, how thin he was. Sheik knew he had always been slim, but this was getting ridiculous. He hadn't realised it before now, and he had nagging suspicion that his stubbornness was the reason. He had always been self-sufficient, he could look after himself, but suddenly having the Hero of Time fussing about him and his sleeping and eating habits had quickly started to annoy him greatly, not to mention that it made him feel like a child. But then, maybe he _was_ a child, letting those dreams get to him like that. It was ridiculous, dreaming about him now, over half a year after he had been destroyed. True, he had left a lasting impression in Sheik (being killed by someone has a tendency to do that), but to have his memory creating this much trouble? Totally and utterly ridiculous. But still, now that he was seeing himself properly for the first time in months...

 _Maybe I need help,_ he thought, looking down at the hairclips in his hand. _Maybe I should tell Link..._ He shook his head and focused on the task at hand: what to do with said hairclips. It wasn't proper, really, for a boy to wear things like these, but the way Jeryd had handed them to Sheik, the smile on his face, told Sheik that perhaps it wasn't so frowned upon here in Lumina. Plus, Sheik would be a liar if he said the idea didn't appeal to him. He had no idea how to wear them, however. He'd never dealt with this before. He tried putting them in his bangs so that they created an interesting framing effect, but that failed horribly and almost made the Sheikah break one of the clips in annoyance, and putting them anywhere else resulted in them either being hidden in the hair (thereby defeating the whole purpose of them) or made Sheik look like he'd just had a wild tumble between the sheets with someone.

"I thought you said you wanted my help with these," Link said, appearing behind him in the mirror. His black uniform made him look so authoritarian, but the easy-going smile and eyes broke it up. He didn't wait for Sheik to respond, but stood behind him and took the clips out of his hands. Then, like a professional and with an incredibly steady hand, he slid the clips into place in Sheik's bangs, arranging them so that they did create the framing effect the Sheikah had had in mind to begin with. After a moment's thinking, he made a sound and slid one clip higher than the other, removing what had been a rather mundane symmetry. He grinned. "Perfect," he announced.

Sheik took in the sight of himself for a few seconds, tried to hide his own grin, failed and chuckled. "I do wonder how you knew exactly what I wanted and how to do it," he said as Link spun him around and kissed him gently.

"I know you better than anyone," Link said, still grinning after the kiss. "Even better than yourself. And I know how because Saria showed me when we were kids...or when I was a kid, anyway." The Hero sighed, his eyes momentarily going dull as he remembered his childhood in Kokiri Forest. "Sure, the clips she made weren't as fancy as these, but it's the same principle, right?"

"I suppose," Sheik said, touching one of the clips. He really liked the way it looked...made him look younger, somehow. _But that probably isn't a good thing considering the company we will be in tonight,_ he added to himself. _But if Link likes it, then I don't care._

"Hey, do you think I should take this out?" Link asked suddenly, touching the ring in his ear. "I mean, this is going to be a hoity-toity thing, right? And I don't want to make a bad impression and make Zelda look bad..." He looked quite worried about that.

"Don't worry about it," said Sheik, patting Link's shoulder. "If the women can have jewellery in their ears, then so can you."

"It's not jewellery," insisted Link. "You said it yourself; it's a sign of manhood!"

"Yes," Sheik agreed, "but these people don't know that, and I am not really sure if I want to go around spouting off the secrets of my people to everyone."

"Oh, okay," said Link, frowning a little. He touched Sheik's ear, making shivers go down his back. "How come you don't have one?" he asked.

"I don't really have anyone to prove my manhood to, do I?" Sheik said. "My people are practically extinct, Zelda has given me a title to prove it to the rest of Hyrule and...I certainly hope I've proved it to you."

"Of course you have," said Link.

"Then I don't need one. At least, not for now." Sheik drew out of Link's semi-embrace and walked out of the bedroom, looking at the clock on the wall. It was exactly seven. Outside in the street, he saw that the main castle gates had been opened and that a steady procession of people wearing luxurious clothes were walking inside. "We should go," he told Link, who agreed.

They made sure they had their invitations and left the hotel, quickly crossing the street. They were halted by a pair of guards just inside the gates, though they were left alone after presenting their invitations.

"Shouldn't they be checking for weapons?" Link asked, ignoring the puzzled stares they were both receiving from the other guests. He was probably fighting an urge to tell them to mind their own business as well, but he was definitely the victor in the struggle. People were pressing in all around them as they followed a quite narrow stone corridor to what Sheik assumed to be the main courtyard. There were tiny windows set in the stone, and their purpose was no secret: bow slits. No one seemed to be manning them, though, fortunately.

"The king probably trusts his guests not to be thoughtless enough to bring them to the ball," Sheik said, almost gasping when someone accidentally shoved their elbow in his side. "Besides, he will be well-guarded. No one would be stupid enough to get close to his person with a weapon."

Sheik didn't add that he had intended to carry at least one dagger tonight, but Jeryd had apparently done his research on the Sheikah's purpose and made sure that none of Sheik's pockets would fit anything _close_ to a weapon, much less a dagger...at least not without revealing its outline to the entire world, so Sheik had been forced to go unarmed. And he didn't like that. It made him vulnerable. What if someone attacked them? He was fairly confident in his hand-to-hand fighting skills, but there is only so much a pair of fists and feet can do against swords and armour. He knew that Link wasn't carrying a weapon either (the Master Sword would be quite difficult to hide, and claiming that it's a cultural or ceremonial weapon was out of the question), but no one in their right state of mind would dare to attack the Hylian. Or so Sheik hoped, anyway.

The corridor did indeed open up into a massive courtyard. The cobbled path they'd been following continued up to the castle itself and a large staircase that terminated in a balcony that ran all the along the facade of the building. Between the corridor and the castle was quite a large, grassy area on which several tents had been pitched, flanked by two gigantic oak trees. The tents turned out to be stands at which servants were handing out refreshments of every kind. Festive paper torches had been erected on posts all around the front garden, creating a very lively atmosphere. The guests were helping themselves to drink and were all standing in groups, talking merrily about this and that, all of them wearing expensive robes, dresses or uniforms like the ones Sheik and Link were. These were all either nobles, rich merchants and their wives, diplomats, dignitaries or high-ranking military officials, Sheik knew. There was not a single _regular_ person to see anywhere. Link was right; this _was_ going to be a hoity-toity affair.

"I'm going to get a drink," Link announced. "Do you want one?"

"No thank you," Sheik said, shaking his head slightly.

"Suit yourself," Link said and marched off to the nearest tent. Ten seconds, and the Hero was already uncomfortable. _That must be a new record,_ Sheik thought to himself. Not that he blamed Link—Sheik didn't feel all that at home himself. But they were here for Zelda, so they had to bear with it. He took the opportunity to look around in the courtyard, trying to find possible points of entry he could use. He was disappointed to find that the only viable climbing spots were far too close to the heavily manned guard posts. There was no way he'd be able to sneak inside this way.

He turned around to get a better look at the castle itself, thinking that there had to be way in from the sides or behind, but someone suddenly ran right into him from behind, colliding into his back with a loud grunt. Sheik, caught completely off-guard, stumbled forward and nearly fell on his face, but a pair of hands on his hips quickly steadied him.

"I'm terribly sorry, I really am, I didn't see where I was going!" exclaimed the person as they made sure Sheik wasn't about to fall over. There was something familiar about the voice, and Sheik quickly turned around. The voice stilled. "You?" the man asked incredulously.

It took Sheik a few seconds to place the man's face, but it suddenly snapped into place. "It's quite alright," he said, smiling politely. "Martin, right?" he asked, recognising the man he had stopped to ask about the Chimera in front of the city. He was dressed in very fine robes now, and he had a nervous look on his face.

"Uh, yes," Martin said, holding out a shaking hand. "I-I don't think we properly introduced ourselves. My name is Martin Ingot."

"Sheik of the Sheikah, Earl of Hyrule," Sheik replied and shook his hand, feeling a bit vicious as he added his title to the end.

Martin's face paled as he realised he had been rude to a noble, and he ducked his head in shame. "I am so sorry for my rudeness from before, my lord, but I...I..."

"It's quite alright," said Sheik. "You said it yourself; you had urgent business in the city. No harm done."

"Thank you, my lord." Martin looked worriedly around him. "I do beg your pardon, my lord, but I am supposed to meet someone, and it is quite—"

"Urgent?" Sheik asked. "Do not let me keep you."

"Thank you, my lord," said Martin and hurried off, quickly disappearing among the crowds for the second time.

 _What an unusual man,_ Sheik thought as he spotted Link returning from the tents, carrying two goblets.

"I know you said you didn't want anything," Link said apologetically but smiling as he drew close, "but you have to taste this stuff!" He thrust one of the goblets into Sheik's hand. It was filled with a deep purple liquid. It had a very sweet aroma, almost like strawberries, but a little less...it was hard to describe it. "It's not wine," the Hero added quickly after seeing Sheik's look. "There's no alcohol in it!"

Sheik took a sip. The taste was very overpowering, but not unpleasant in any way. It seemed to fill his entire mouth with the same sweetness, and it felt like it was rejuvenating him as it made its way down to his stomach. Not even bothering to hide his smile, Sheik downed the rest of the drink in one gulp. Link did the same, and the two stared at their empty goblets, both wishing they hadn't done that.

"What...what is this?" Sheik asked.

"It's the juice of some kind of fruit they only grow in a hidden valley close to the king's summer palace," Link said. "Or, that's what the people serving it claimed. They wouldn't even tell me its name; it's that much of a secret. And it's rare, too. They only bring it out on special occasions." He looked back at the tent where he had gotten them. "Should I go get some—"

"More, yes," interrupted Sheik, feeling an unexpected need for more of the juice.

Link quickly returned with two full goblets, but they tried their hardest not to empty them immediately this time. They observed the party for a while, neither of them feeling particularly interested in the many discussions that were taking place among the guests—most of them were about their money, how they had gotten it and how they could get their hands more. There was also quite a bit of hatred for those who were nouveau riche, whatever they were. Typical rich talk, really.

"Shouldn't the ball be inside?" Link asked suddenly. "He's got a huge palace with tons of space, and he has the party out here in the courtyard? Doesn't make sense to me. I mean, there are still tons of people out there who're waiting to get in." He motioned vaguely towards the stone corridor, from which people were still pouring out. The courtyard was quickly starting to fill up.

"I don't know, Link," Sheik answered. "I haven't been to many balls. The last one I can remember was the one we had after we won the war, and that wasn't as formal as this one."

"I don't get it," said Link, scratching his head.

As if someone had read his mind, a man suddenly appeared at the very top of the staircase, which had been blocked off by guards wearing heavy, ceremonial armour. The man was dressed in the same armour, though his was augmented by rich, red robes worn underneath. If Sheik was to guess, he was probably a captain of the guard or something.

The man waited until the guests began to notice him and quiet down before he gave a silent signal to the men gathered around the stairs. As one, they all struck the cobbles once with the handles of their halberds, creating a loud, rapping sound that quickly silenced the rest of the guests. The man looked satisfied at the attendees.

"His Majesty the King Robar the Eleventh, may his reign never end, wishes you all a warm welcome to the first annual Glorious Celebration of Luminan Technical and Humanitarian Achievements Festival!" the captain announced loudly. Even he didn't like the name of the festival, at least not judging by the brief look of chagrin that appeared on his face when he said it. "In a moment, the doors to the grand hall will open, and the ball will begin! The grand hall and its connecting corridors, the ballroom and the gardens are all open for guests, but I must ask you all to please refrain from going anywhere else! This is both for the sake of His Majesty's privacy and your safety!" He bowed deeply, which couldn't have been easy in all the armour. "Ladies and gentlemen, lords and ladies, please enjoy your evening!" He gave another silent signal, and the guards stood aside, allowing people to climb the stairs. The glass doors at the top opened, and light spilled out from it.

The throngs of people immediately began to move into the castle, and Link and Sheik followed suit. Slowly they shuffled into the grand hall, which had been decorated with the same lamps as the courtyard and garlands. A long table had been placed against one of the walls and stacked with exotic foods and drink while a small army of servants constantly weaved in and out between the guests, offering wine and other beverages. Beautifully subtle and serene music drifted around them as the large band standing in the corner of the room picked up their instruments and began to play. Sheik and Link found themselves in the very middle of the grand hall, feeling more than a little uncomfortable and out of place. The din of conversation was all around them, and they almost had to shout to each other when talking.

"So, what now?" Link asked.

"We wait until the king arrives!" Sheik said, pointing at a set of marble stairs, which he concluded would be the place Robar would announce himself. "And then we extend the princess' thanks, and after that...we enjoy ourselves!"

"If such a thing is even possible," Link said quietly, but Sheik heard him. Why the Hero was suddenly so uncomfortable at a party was a mystery to him. Link had never had a problem with occasions like these back home...but they had never been this large either, and most of the guests were people they had fought alongside and knew well, if not personally so.

 _I should get his mind off it,_ Sheik thought and was about to tell Link about his run-in with Martin when a voice rang clearly out from the crowd behind them.

"My lords!" the female voice cried as the crowd parted, revealing Councillor Ise. She was wearing a red dress that matched her hair and was decorated with rich stitching and embroided symbols. She was flanked by an elderly-looking gentleman. He wore simple, navy-blue robes that, upon further inspection, nevertheless revealed professional and expensive needlework. A large, golden disc decorated with the same image that flew on the king's banners hung around his neck, immediately showing that this was an important man.

"Councillor," Sheik said, bowing—and motioning for Link to do the same. He didn't quite remember what Impa's etiquette books had said about balls, but he assumed that many of the same rules for dinner parties were valid here as well. His suspicion was confirmed as Ise extended a hand, which he gently took and kissed. Link did the same, but a fiery blush spread on his face, clearly revealing his inexperience at this sort of thing. "How nice to see you again," he told Ise, who smiled in return.

"Likewise, my lord," she said, taking in their outfits. "My, my, I certainly knew what I was doing when I assigned Jeryd to take care of your needs in the clothing department." Her eyes briefly rested on the Triforce symbol on Link's chest, and Sheik caught the almost unnoticeable flicker of dislike that flashed in her eyes, though she quickly covered it up. "I am glad to see that my assistant's talents weren't exaggerated." The old man coughed politely, and Ise looked embarrassed. "Oh dear, I apologise," she said. "My lords, I would like you to meet Rehm, trusted advisor of the king and head of the city council."

Rehm stepped forward and shook their hands. "A pleasure to meet you both," he said. He had made a valiant effort of trying to hide his lack of hair, Sheik decided, but combovers generally required a little more hair on the sides of one's head to bring up than the councillor possessed. "We have heard a lot about you in the past few months, I have been looking forward to meeting you, as has the king."

"We are honoured to be invited to this ball," Sheik said, feeling his diplomatic side taking over. "Though we feel a little out of place, not to mention that we have a feeling that we are intruding on an event that are for Luminans exclusively..."

"Pish-posh," said Rehm, grinning. "This festival is for everyone, and our esteemed guests from Hyrule are more than welcome!" Sheik tried to ignore it, but Rehm too had given the Triforce a less than favourable look. Did they truly hate the Goddesses this much here? "Now," announced Rehm, "I would like you to meet the rest of the council. It is thanks to their restless efforts that we were able to arrange this celebration."

What followed was an endless procession of hands that needed to either be shaken or kissed, dull conversation topics and the usual and merciless boredom that always followed when speaking to people of a "higher" class. It didn't help that neither Sheik nor Link knew much about the internal affairs that the council members were discussing, and they didn't seem too inclined to enlighten the two either. One of the female council members had developed an unhealthy fascination with the clips in Sheik's hair, though, and she kept staring at them—and his eyes, he realised soon after—while apparently keeping her fingers in check.

"—But we are being rude to our guests," Rehm said suddenly and looked at Sheik. "I apologise for boring you with internal affairs, my lords, but a councillor's job never ends. If I may be so bold, may I ask about what happened in Hyrule seven years ago? We have received reports, of course, but I would like to hear about the events from eyewitnesses."

"Councillor," said Ise diplomatically, "I do not think these two would remember much. After all, they can't have been more than children..."

"We remember everything perfectly, thank you very much," said Link, frowning. "It's not something that's easy to forget." Sheik nodded silently, hoping Link hadn't offended them.

"I'm sorry," Ise said, looking ashamed. "I just assumed—"

"It's alright," Link said quickly, still frowning. "it's just that...Sheik was there when the war started, and he was forced to fight from day one."

"But that was so long ago," Rehm said slowly. "You were so young..."

"A Sheikah is expected to be able to fight from the day he or she is able to run," Sheik said, trying not to let the images of that horrible night cloud his mind.

"How old were you when the war started?" one of the councillors asked.

"I was nine, and the Hero was eleven," Sheik replied. The group gasped in astonishment.

"But you were just a child!" exclaimed Ise. "And you still are!" This was quickly followed by a round of questions concerning his current age and affairs, which Sheik did his best to answer, though he got a feeling that they were giving him a lot more attention than they should have—Link was being left out.

"I do not wish to be rude, but you are directing your questions to the wrong person," he said calmly and looked at Link. "The Hero of Time was not much older than I when he was forced to pick up a sword as well. And he did not have years of training under his belt when he set out to save Hyrule."

Now Link was assaulted with questions as well, and he shot Sheik an annoyed look as he did his best to answer them. Sheik merely grinned back. _If I have to suffer, then so shall you,_ he thought.

"So, what happened?" asked Rehm again. "I would very much like an accurate account."

Link looked at Sheik. "Well, you were there when everything started, Sheik. Why don't you tell them?"

 _Oh, how I hate being the storyteller,_ Sheik thought as he began to recount his experiences on the night the Gerudo, led by Ganondorf, attacked the castle, murdered the king and usurped the throne. He told them how he had fought against Ganondorf to give Zelda time to escape the city. Then he told them a heavily condensed story of Link's quest, their experiences together and the outcome of the war itself. He was careful to leave out any mention of magic, Sheikah ghosts, dark counterparts, the nature of his and Link's relationship and just about anything that would offend or give too much information to the council members. It didn't feel right to leave out so many details, but it was not his place to give them. Robar could ask Zelda about it when either visited each other at some point or another.

"I don't understand," said Ise slowly after the story was finished. "You say you fought alongside Gerudo, Zora and Goron allies...but I thought that the Gerudo were your enemies? They attacked the castle did they not? It was their king who usurped the throne?"

"Yeah," said Link, "it was them. But it turned out that Ganondorf was manipulating them to suit his own needs. When they didn't want to march across Hyrule to fight the Remnant, he threw them aside and hired mercenaries to fight for him instead. Sheik and I were travelling through their territory when we were ambushed. We got to know one of them—Ayla is her name—and things kinda escalated from there. When the war was over, the Gerudos were our closest allies."

Sheik was relieved that Link hadn't said anything about Zelda and Aveil's relationship. There was no point in giving foreign nations leverage in the form of something that could be turned into political slander.

"But I read somewhere that the Gerudo and Sheikah were bitter enemies," said a councilmember. "Didn't you feel...uncomfortable working so close with the enemies of your people?"

Sheik shook his head. "I have learned to put things aside for the greater good," he said. "Besides, by the time I forged the bond with the Gerudo, my people were all but extinct. I am all that remains, and while I do not condone what happened, I will not bear a grudge as it was just as much my ancestors' faults for starting the war in the first place."

Link looked at him sharply right then, wondering why Sheik hadn't revealed that particular piece of information.

A silence passed over the group as they realised they were looking at the last surviving member of a mysterious race. Sheik felt uncomfortable under their gaze. Then a storm of condolences and apologies rained over him, and a stone dropped into his stomach. He didn't want pity—he'd long since come to terms with it! His heart was racing, almost as if he was panicking, and he began to look for a way out. Across the grand hall and through the ballroom were the doors to the gardens. He needed fresh air. He hastily excused himself and left the council staring after him. Link called for him, but Sheik didn't stop. He didn't pay any notice to the luxurious ballroom with its gold-painted walls and ceiling mural. Only when he was greeted by the cool evening air in the gardens did he let himself pause, leaning against a lamppost, trying to fight his down his heartbeat. People had yet to start crowding here, so he was alone.

 _What's the matter with me?_ he wondered. The stone was still there, even heavier. _No, I'm fine with being the last Sheikah—fine!_

"Are you alright?"

Sheik whirled around and came face to face with Jeryd. The human looked at him worriedly.

"I..." was all Sheik managed to say.

"I saw you storm out of the grand hall and I followed you," Jeryd said. "You looked upset."

"I'm fine!" Sheik said abruptly. He sighed and looked Jeryd over. The human was wearing the same type of robes he'd been wearing when he first met them, only a little classier and more appropriate for the ball. He'd braided his hair, too... "I just...I do not do well in crowds," he finally said.

Jeryd smiled a little and nodded. "I know how you feel," he said. "That's why I mostly keep myself around the edges at parties. Less of a chance I have to talk with someone." He looked at the clips in Sheik's hair. "I see you decided to wear them. I'm glad. They look very nice. I never would have thought about the asymmetrical approach myself..."

"I had help from the Hero," Sheik admitted. His heart was slowing down now, and the stone was shrinking.

"I see," said Jeryd. He looked a little uncomfortable. "May I ask you a personal question, my lord?"

Sheik failed to see how things could get any more personal when it involved Jeryd, so he nodded.

"Are...are you and the Hero of Time an item, my lord?" the human asked hesitatingly. Sheik paused, and Jeryd, upon seeing his expression, panicked. "Only I've seen the way you look at him and the way he looks at you and you seem very close, closer than friends, and the way you reacted when seeing each other in the uniforms and, and..." He looked at the ground, blushing. "I was just...curious."

 _Should I tell him?_ Sheik wondered. _People here seem supportive of such relationships, but I'm not sure if I feel comfortable with giving the information away to strangers. We can't afford to give them any leverage. But Jeryd doesn't seem like the harmful type..._

"Do you swear not to tell anyone?" Sheik asked quietly. "On the pain of a very excruciating and slow death, which, I can assure you, I am more than capable of inflicting upon you?"

Jeryd gulped, but nodded firmly.

"Then yes, the Hero and I...are together," admitted Sheik.

Jeryd smiled, but Sheik couldn't help but notice that he looked slightly disappointed. "I had a feeling," he said quietly. "You certainly are a good match, if I may say so. How did you meet?"

"During the war," Sheik said. "We...travelled a lot and went through many hardships together. I am not sure when he developed feelings for me, or I for him, but he took the first step."

The human didn't respond. He looked uncomfortably from side to side. "You are very lucky," he said slowly, "as is the Hero." He looked back at the castle. "Hm, a situation appears to be developing. Please do excuse me for a minute."

Sheik didn't see any developing situations, but let Jeryd go anyway. _I wonder what that was all about..._

* * *

He took another few minutes to compose himself before he returned to the party. He found Link and the council approximately where he had left them, though they seemed rather intent on shuffling closer to the grand staircase. Link gave him a questioning look as he rejoined them, but Sheik shook his head lightly, indicating that he should save the questions for later. Link seemed reluctant but nodded in return.

"I apologise if our questions were inappropriate," Rehm said sadly.

"It's quite alright, councillor," said Sheik. "I don't do very well in social situations, I'm afraid, and sometimes I just get...overwhelmed. It had nothing to do with your questions, I assure you."

"That is quite a relief. The last thing we want to do is to make our guests of honour uncomfortable. Your friend has entertained us greatly with stories of your exploits and your homeland—I should very much like to see it someday."

Now it was Sheik's turn to shoot a look at Link, but the Hero didn't seem to notice. "I was telling the council about the time we took out that wyrm in the desert, remember?"

 _How could I not?_ Sheik thought. _The damn thing nearly ate me alive._ He nodded and listened to Link finishing the tale, not shying away from visceral details at all. Ise looked particularly nauseous at the idea of tossing bombs into its mouth.

"All this, done by a pair of teenagers," Rehm muttered. "It is quite amazing."

"I agree," said a council member. "We could do with more youths like you in this kingdom, that's for sure."

The grand hall suddenly fell silent, and the same uniformed captain appeared at the top of the grand staircase. He once again banged his halberd on the floor, though the effect was greatly diminished by the carpet that covered it.

"His Majesty the King Robar the Eleventh, and his Majesty the Prince Victor the First!" he announced. Immediately, a group of guards emerged from the door at the top of the stairs. They arranged themselves so that they were standing side by side on either side of the top of the stairs. The horn blowers in the orchestra began blowing a fanfare, and two figures slowly came out of the door. The oldest—the king, presumably—looked like a severe and strict man, his jet-black hair carefully swept back. He was thin, and his eyes were a pale grey. He had a carefully maintained patch of beard just under his lips as well. He wore a uniform not unlike Link's, though his collar was taller, he had golden epaulettes, dozens of medals decorating his chest and a dark red sash over one shoulder. He looked nothing like the kings of yore—no jewellery or ermine anywhere to be seen. And yet...he looked just as regal and stately.

The prince was dressed much like his father, though his sash was a brighter red and he had fewer medals, as well as epaulettes that were silver in colour. But his most distinguishing feature was that he did not look all that much like his father. He appeared to be in his early twenties, though he still seemed a little meek. His hair was dark blond, and quite a bit longer than the king's, but it was pulled back in a very respectable ponytail. Sheik was surprised to see that his eyes did not match—one was blue, the other was green, both of distinctive and bright hues.

The king smiled broadly at his subjects as they descended the stairs, and the prince made a valiant effort at doing the same, but it was obvious that he was not happy about being there. The king stopped halfway down the stairs and put a hand on the railing.

"My friends!" he said loudly. "Comrades! Family! Fellow Luminans! It gives me great pleasure to see so many of you here tonight to celebrate our glorious country. We are on the precipice of entering a new, golden age! An age of wisdom, of common sense, of industry and technology! We shall cast aside the superstitions of the past and focus on the truths of tomorrow! With this celebration, we are opening our hearts and our minds to the reality as seen by the greatest thinkers of our time! So, without further ado, let me say: Welcome, my friends, welcome! Let this night linger in your memories forever!"

The hall erupted in applause and cheers, and Robar smiled at his son as they descended the remaining stairs together. They shared a few words, and the prince detached himself from his father's side and disappeared. Robar looked miffed, but straightened up and looked around the crowd, seemingly searching for something. He spotted Rehm and smiled as he slowly made his way towards him, often stopping to greet his guests along the way.

It took him ten minutes to reach Rehm and the others (which said something about the amount of people present since the group was standing right next to the stairs), and he embraced the old man. "Rehm, my friend," he said, "how are you?"

"I am fine, your majesty," Rehm said, bowing. "And I am happy to see you so full of vigour."

"Being in the presence of my countrymen always cheers me up, old friend," the king said as he greeted the council members one by one until his eyes finally landed on Link and Sheik. "Ah? I do not believe we have been formally introduced," he said.

"Your Majesty, may I present Sheik of the Sheikah, Earl of Hyrule and Link, the Hero of Time," said Ise.

Sheik and Link bowed deeply. "Her Majesty the Princess Zelda of Hyrule would like to extend her most gracious and heartfelt thanks for your assistance in the rebuilding of her kingdom," Sheik said as formally as he could. This was a critical moment. "She also wishes to know if there is something she can do in return."

Robar nodded. "I knew the princess' father. A strong, just and wise ruler, and I hear his daughter is not quite unlike him. I was saddened to hear of his passing." He shook his head sadly. "But I am only happy to help my friend's daughter, and I expect nothing in return. Lumina and Hyrule have always been allies, and these trying times will only strengthen that bond of friendship. I am honoured that she sent such lustrous and famous heroes to our little celebration."

Sheik relaxed. Robar approved of them. "I am no hero," he said and pointed at Link. "He is the one who ended the war—I was merely his guide."

Robar looked at Link with interest. "So this is the famous Hero of Time? Forgive me, but I thought you would be...older. Both of you, really...but then again, the kingdom of Hyrule has always produced fine warriors and strategists, regardless of age. Tell me, Hero, what motivated you to take up the mantle?"

"I didn't really decide," Link said, embarrassed at the attention. "The Goddesses didn't exactly give me a choice in the matter."

An uncomfortable silence descended upon the group. Sheik had worked hard to keep the issue of the Goddesses and magic out of the discussion, but Link had just ruined it. If the Luminans were as hostile towards the Goddesses as one of the books he had read once said... Link realised his blunder as well, and looked nervously at the king...who had a surprisingly mild and expectant look on his face.

"And?" he said. "Go on, I would like to hear this story from beginning to end."

The present company relaxed, the tension visibly leaving the council members and guards. Sheik felt a heavy load lifting form his shoulders. _So, the king doesn't mind discussing or hearing about religion,_ he thought. _That could come in handy later..._ It was at this moment that he chose to glance up at the staircase the king had descended from and noticed that there were no guards up there—they had descended into the grand hall as well, dividing themselves between the king and the prince, who was still nowhere to be seen. _This is my chance!_ He had no idea when he'd be able to get back into the castle, and if he had the opportunity to snoop around now that Link was busy telling the king about his quest...there was no time to waste!

He knew that Link would take a while to tell the entire story—the Hero loved getting into details—and that the king would be busy for quite a while.

Sheik carefully pricked Rehm on the shoulder. "May I inquire about the restrooms?" he whispered.

"Certainly," the councillor whispered back, pointing in the direction of the ballroom. "Down the hall on your left, first door on the right."

"Thank you," Sheik said, excusing himself from the group but promising a swift return. He went in the direction of the ballroom, but after placing a dozen people between himself and the group, ducked down slightly—not enough to be considered odd or suspicious, but enough to not be seen by Link and the others—and made his way to the stairs. Waiting until he was sure no one was looking in his direction, he climbed them and ducked inside the slight alcove at the very top, hiding himself from view. His hiding place gave him a wonderful vantage point, and he could see the entire grand hall from here. With another look to make sure no one was watching, Sheik headed inside the door, closing it quietly behind him.

* * *

The hallway beyond it was lit by oil lamps, and a several large glass windows ran alongside one wall, providing him with a view of the courtyard as well. It was empty now, save for a few stragglers who were late for the party. There were no guards, and Sheik thanked the Goddesses for his luck. He made his way down the hallway, making sure to stay in the shadows as much as he could, even though he realised that trying to sneak down a dark hallway while wearing a completely white uniform was an effort in futility.

A series of doors covered the wall opposite of the one with the windows, marked with signs that said what the rooms beyond were for, such as laundry and kitchens. Sheik wasn't looking for that, he was searching for the king's study, a library, or a council chamber. Anywhere where records were kept. He'd even settle for a map with Hyrule crossed out in red ink.

The corridors and hallways beyond the first one were just as deserted, making Sheik wonder just how much security and how many servants were being used for the party downstairs. There weren't _that_ many guests, surely?

He opened a door and was surprised by a sudden gust of cold wind blowing over him, so surprised that he immediately fell into a combat stance, hands almost automatically going for his daggers. But when no enemy was forthcoming, he carefully opened the door and saw that it was just another corridor, but there were was no glass in the windows here, and the floor, ceiling and walls were in an extreme state of disrepair. Scaffolding had been erected all over the place, but they didn't seem to serve any purpose at all.

It was almost as if someone had just left this particular stretch of hallway to rot, not even bothering to make an effort with it. Paint was peeling off the walls, floor tiles cracked and rafters were visible where roof sheets had fallen away. _Is it like this because the kingdom is poor?_ Sheik wondered. _Then how can the king throw such a lavish party if he can't even afford to maintain his own castle?_

He was about halfway down the hall when a door at the other end suddenly slammed open, light shining from the other side. Sheik panicked, looked about himself and saw no other way out than to quickly and quietly climb up one of the scaffolds and hiding among the rafters. It took him less than fifteen seconds, but even that was barely enough time to disappear before two chatting guards each carrying a heavy load walked by the place he'd been standing. Panting lightly, Sheik listened.

"...doesn't really matter where we burn 'em as long as it ain't there or here," said one of the guards. "King's orders."

"Seems a waste, if you ask me," said the other guard. "Books are meant for reading, not burning..."

"Eh? You gone scholarly on me all of a sudden?"

"No, I just think that—"

"You're better'n me, eh? Better'n me just 'cause you can read?"

"Don't start that again, please. It's not my fault you were too thick to pay attention in school."

"Them's fightin' words, boy!"

"Calm down, calm down, I didn't mean it like that..."

The conversation trailed off as the guards went through an open door and slammed it shut behind them. Sheik waited a few seconds before relaxing and changing his foothold. The riding boots weren't making maintaining this position easy on him and their grip was practically non-existent. He was about to climb back down to the floor when he suddenly noticed that the section of rafters he was hanging on to went along the entire side of the castle. Only this section was visible from below. Sheik allowed himself a small smile. _Lucky..._

He followed the direction the guards had come from. They'd been talking about burning books and had been carrying a bunch them, which meant that there had to be some sort of library here, and rulers had a tendency to put their studies close to their libraries—the rest would be easy, especially if the guards were as absent there as in the rest of this section of the castle.

He went along the rafters for a distance he deemed to be correct, bent down and began to pry at a roof sheet. There was more hallway, but no doors. Frowning, the Sheikah continued on, repeating the process at least five more times before he reached some sort of intersection by a large set of wooden double doors. This hallway was brightly lit, but still as deserted. A tall under a large mirror stood against one wall. That would provide him with something to spring up from if he needed to get out of there in a hurry. Sheik lifted the sheet and dropped down to the floor, surveying his surroundings. A large brass plaque was mounted on the wall next to the double doors, and the word **LIBRARY** had been painted on it with big, black letters.

Sheik opened the door a crack, but was disappointed to find that the library, which was of an impressive size, was apparently being taken down. Broken shelves were stashed in a corner, and books were strewn all over the wood panel floor. He was about to enter the library when a guard suddenly appeared at the other end of the room, prompting a quick withdrawal from the Sheikah. He carefully closed the door and retreated behind a protruding column, ready to dash at the slightest chance of the doors opening. They didn't, and Sheik relaxed. So the guard hadn't seen him.

 _I should have sensed his presence in the room,_ Sheik thought as he tried the other doors in the hallway—all of them locked. _Something is wrong...and why is he burning books?_

The only door that wasn't locked was a broom closet, and that did Sheik a fat lot of good. Disappointed, he decided that he had been away from the party for too long already, and that he needed to return before anyone noticed. Link probably had already, but Sheik could always make up some excuse. He braced himself, ran up to the table, jumped, kicked off and grabbed a rafter through the hole he had made in the ceiling, climbing silently back up and sealing the hole back up. Or, that's what he had intended to, at least. He hadn't counted on the table being of such low quality that one of its legs broke under his weight and sent the expensive-looking vase crashing to the floor. It broke, and the sound of shattering pottery filled the corridors.

 _Shit!_ Sheik cursed inwardly, still hanging onto the rafter, having barely been able to grab it. He pulled himself up and quickly sealed up the hole just as shouts of alarm issued from within the library and the double doors were flung open. By the time the guards realised what had happened, though, Sheik was already back in the rundown hallway and was hurrying back to the grand hall. Panting, he stopped just in front of the door and made sure that his outfit wasn't covered in dust, sand or other stains. Calming his breath, he wiped his brow and opened the door. He was alarmed to find that the guests were gone from the grand hall, but quickly heard the loud music, laughter and chattering that was issuing from the ballroom. So the party had moved. Nonchalantly he made his way down the stairs and went headed for the hallway Rehm had pointed him to—it wouldn't do to come from anywhere else lest his cover be blown.

The restroom was empty, and Sheik quickly washed his hands, if only to keep up appearances. Just as he was drying his hands, the door opened and Link appeared, looking at him with a strange expression.

"What's taking so long?" he asked. "I'm starting to run out of stories to tell the king, and I think one of the council women wants to dance with me." He blushed.

"Sorry," Sheik said, grateful that he had come back when he did. One minute later, and Link would have found him out. "My stomach is still a bit upset from the...you know..."

Link groaned. "How many times are you going to make me apologise for that? Those sausages looked okay to _me_!"

"Food isn't supposed to have green splotches in it," Sheik said, anxious to return to the party in case a full alarm was raised. "Now, let's go. We do not want to keep the king waiting, do we?" Link acknowledged it with a grunt, but stayed quiet, annoyed at Sheik for bringing up the food poisoning fiasco again.

A waltz was playing as they re-entered the ballroom, and most of the floor space was taken up by dancing couples. The king was sitting in a chair on a raised platform, looking approvingly at the dancers. His son was sitting next to him, though he looked more interested in carrying a conversation with the guard captain that had been announcing things the entire evening. The king noticed them and waved them over.

"Are you feeling well?" he asked Sheik. "You spent a long time in the restroom..."

"Traveller's stomach," Sheik replied politely.

"Ah, I see. I hope you feel better. I would like you both to meet my son, Victor."

At the sound of his name, the prince paused in his conversation and looked at the king. "Yes, Father?" he said.

"Son, I would like you to meet Link, the Hero of Time and Earl Sheik of the Sheikah, both from Hyrule."

Sheik wished Zelda had never given him a title. It just didn't sound proper, having that earl thing tacked onto his name. But right now, he was more interested in the prince's reaction to them. He had smiled to Link and shaken his hand, but had suddenly paused and gone pale when hearing Sheik's name. It took him a few seconds to realise that he was leaving an honoured guest with his hand in the air and finally shook it. "H-honoured to meet you," he said.

"The honour is all mine, Your Majesty," Sheik said.

Victor smiled weakly and nodded, and that was it. There was no more conversation to be had as the prince turned back to the guard captain, who had noticed the sudden change in his demeanour and was enquiring about it, to which the prince was merely shaking his head.

"He is a little shy," the king said, looking most displeased. "After his mother died...I did my best to raise him to be a strong man, but I failed, it seems..."

"I don't think—"Link began, but was interrupted by a guard that had quickly made his way to the king's side and was whispering urgently into his ear.

Sheik's shoulders drooped. This was it—a full alarm was going to be raised at any moment, and the only one who didn't have an alibi was him. _Should I try to escape? What kind of political ramifications will this have?_

To his surprise, a grin spread on Robar's face, and he quickly rose from his chair, signalling the orchestra to stop playing, which they did after a few seconds. One last sour note rang out from a violin as complete silence descended upon the ballroom. The guests waited for the king to speak.

"I apologise for interrupting you, my friends," the king said, "but I would like draw your attention to an event that will take place in the gardens in just a few minutes. If everyone will please follow me outside, I can guarantee that you will be dazzled and amazed."

There was great murmuring as the people shuffled out into the gardens, Link and Sheik—who was immensely relieved—among them. They were gathered together in a large crowd in the middle of the grounds, where a stage had been set up. Behind it, the dark outline of one of Lumina's many mountains could be seen in the dusk. The king climbed up on the stage and paced back and forth across it a few times before turning to face his audience.

"Tonight is a special night," he said loudly and clearly. "Not only because we are celebrating our nation's achievements and acknowledging our progress, but also because we have two honoured guests from Hyrule among us."

 _Please don't invite us up on the stage, please don't invite us up on the stage,_ Sheik thought again and again. He didn't want any more attention.

"Unfortunately, they were not here to witness the dedication of our newest national treasure," Robar continued. "Therefore, as a special welcome, I have arranged for _The Chimera_ to conduct a fly-by demonstration of their weapons. My lords, this is for you."

Less than a second after Robar had finished his sentence, a loud boom sounded across the city, a flash of light appearing in the sky. Five seconds later, another boom and another flash, this time lower, just in front of the mountain's outline. Sheik could just about see the contours and shape of the strange airship they had spotted above the city when they arrived. But what was making that sound?

This time an entire salvo of explosions sounded, the ship lighting up in a spectacular display of smoke and fire, _The Chimera_ slowly coming to halt, appearing as if it was hovering just above Robar's head. It let off another salvo, lit itself up once again and fell silent.

Sheik and Link could only stare as the crowd applauded wildly. _What the hell was that?_ Sheik wondered, glancing quickly at Link, who seemed to be thinking the same, his eyebrow raised in a way that perfectly mimicked Sheik—which annoyed the Sheikah greatly whenever the Hero did so.

The small army of servants suddenly appeared carrying trays of small and thin crystal glasses filled with a fizzing drink. Sheik recognised it, but he couldn't remember its name. Every single guest was given one, and a single servant carried a single glass of the...of the champagne! _That was it, champagne_ , Sheik thought. The king took the single glass, sniffed it and smiled.

"A toast!" he announced. "To the future safety and cooperation of the kingdoms of Lumina and Hyrule. May our friendship last a thousand years!"

"Hear, hear!" the crowd said, and everyone drank their champagne. The king downed his in a single gulp, licking his lips with satisfaction.

"Remind me to thank the vineyard personally for that one," the king said. "Now, shall we conti—"he coughed lightly, looking embarrassed. "I apologise for that. Let us continue the celebra—"another coughing fit overcame him, and people began to whisper to each other worriedly. Servants were climbing up on the stage to help their master as he coughed violently yet again and sank to his knees. Robar held his hand in front of his mouth and looked at it in a confused fashion after the fit. He showed it to the crowd. It was covered in crimson blood.

Guards rushed in from the sides as Robar fell over, coughing and retching as spasms began wracking his body. The prince burst out from the guests and joined the servants and guards; the king's shaking and flapping body disappearing from view.

"The king has been poisoned!" someone shouted, and a terrified cries from several guests were heard.

Sheik stood rooted to the ground, unable to react. _What...what's happening?_ Something was definitely happening—a feeling of deep suspicion rolled through the crowd, and it felt like it was directed towards _him_. He reached for his daggers nervously, groaning when he realised that he wasn't carrying any. He paused. There was something in his pocket, but he couldn't remember putting anything in it. Slowly, he withdrew the object, which turned out to be a small phial with a cork stopper. Looking back at the stage, Sheik went through the symptoms of the king before looking back at the phial—a feeling of dread overcame him. _No...it can't be!_ He unstopped the phial and smelled the contents, immediately recoiling in disgust at the revolting odour.

"What is it?" Link hissed, noticing Sheik's erratic actions. "What's going on?"

"The king has ingested a deadly poison," Sheik said slowly, showing Link the phial. "A poison which...I have here..."

* * *

**Soul Remnants**

**  
Chapter 9**

* * *

"Sheik…?"

Sheik was unable to look at Link, his mind racing as he tried to understand what was happening. The king was dying, that much was certain, if he wasn't dead already—the poison Sheik was holding in his hand was a particularly fast-acting and vicious one—and someone had managed to place the phial on his person. He ran his fingers over the smooth glass, as if it would give him some clue about where it had come from. His hands were shaking, and he was feeling a cold sweat coming on. True, he was nervous, but that wasn't the cause…

His eyes darted over to the champagne glass he was holding in his other hand. Had he been…? No, he would have smelled or tasted it. Besides, he wasn't coughing up his lungs or bleeding from every orifice, so they couldn't possibly have—

_Unless they used a different one!_

"L-Link," he said stutteringly, feeling the effects of whatever he had ingested as it started taking over his system, weakening him. The Hero looked at him anxiously as Sheik's left hand seized up, forcing him to drop the glass, which smashed on the cobbled path at his feet. He was sweating all over now, and his vision was starting to blur, but he forced himself to look closely at Link. "Do…you feel f-funny?" he asked.

"What's wrong?" Link asked worriedly, touching Sheik's shoulder. People were starting to look at them now, surely slowly making a connection between Sheik and what was happening on the small stage.

"Answer the question!" Sheik barked. His entire left arm was numb now, and his right hand had started to lock up.

"No, I'm fine," Link said. "What's wrong?"

"I-I think I've-I've b-been poisoned as…as well," Sheik managed to force out. His vision was completely gone now, leaving a large black spot where Link's face was supposed to be, and his tongue was going numb, making it difficult to talk. His legs were giving out, and nausea was threatening to make him vomit.

"No!" Link shouted, drawing even more attention to themselves. "I need help here!" he called out, only to stare incredulously as no one moved a muscle. "Are you deaf?" the Hero shouted.

"What's happening?" Rehm asked, appearing at Sheik's side. Sheik couldn't see him, but his voice was strained, bordering on panicked. "Guards, help the earl, I believe he is feeling under the weat—what's this?"

Something heavy dropped into the pit of Sheik's stomach as he felt someone pry the phial out of his stiff fingers. "I…I d-didn't…" He tried to proclaim his innocence, but his jaws suddenly stopped moving and his tongue went completely limp. His legs gave out, and he would have crashed to the ground if it wasn't for Link's strong arms holding him up. Hundreds of voices were chattering, crying or shouting at each other, but Sheik still heard the sound of a cork being pulled out of a glass tube, and he knew exactly what was going to happen next.

"Poison!" Rehm exclaimed. "This is poison! Guards!"

"What're you doing?" Link demanded, grunting as he surely struggled against the armoured men crowding in around them. "He's been poisoned too!"

"A clever ruse!" Rehm said. "To deflect any suspicion away from him and his accomplice! Arrest them both!"

Sheik felt his arms being wrenched behind his back, and his hands were tied together.

"Let him go, you bastards!" Link shouted. There was a loud thump—the sound of Link hitting one of the guards judging by the pained scream coming from someone close by—and a greater press of bodies around them.

"They poisoned the king!"

"They're both assassins!"

"Hang them!"

Sheik felt himself slipping out of consciousness, the poison finally reaching his head. The voices faded away, becoming an indistinct wall of sound that was completely incomprehensible. The pressing feeling around him disappeared, and he was floating through nothing, completely and utterly alone...

_What was the point of it all?_

_Was I just a scapegoat, or did I really do something? I...I can't remember... I didn't even want him dead...did Zelda want him dead? No, surely she didn't...no, she wanted to know if he was a threat..._

_It does not matter, does it? I'm dying. Again. I can feel it. My heart...isn't beating. I wonder which poison it was..._

_I wonder if Terra will be there..._

_I hope Link is okay..._

* * *

_**Wake up.** _

The voice was gruff and rough, the owner clearly being in a foul mood, but it had a surprising gentleness to it as well, as if they didn't really know how to act. The voice was also very familiar, but it was impossible to place.

_**I said, wake up.** _

He made a half-hearted attempt at opening his eyes, but they were heavy like lead, and they seemed to be glued shut by something. He became aware of a faint gurgling sound, like that of running water, but it seemed miles away. He was lying on something cold, hard and unyielding. The surface was uneven, like roughly hewn rock. A cold breeze danced over his naked chest, causing him to shiver. He wanted to curl up on himself, but his limbs and muscles refused to cooperate. It was hard to breathe, and it felt like something was pressing down hard on his chest.

_**Wake up!** _

The voice was getting angry now, growing in volume. It echoed around him, trying to get a rise out of him—a rise he was unable to give. He tried to say so, but the words came out a garbled mess. His mouth was so dry it might as well have been a desert, his tongue heavy and awkward. The voice gave a snide little chuckle—a chuckle that was far too familiar.

_**Is this truly the best the Sheikah can offer? I recall you being far stronger than this, my love...** _

Sheik finally forced his eyes open as he immediately placed the voice. The chamber he was lying in was pitch black save for a small stream of light pouring in from under what he hoped was a door. It seemed to be a prison cell, but there was no way to be sure until he could take a better look. He tried turning onto his side, but such a simple task was impossible, and he groaned as his entire body flared up in pain.

_**So, that is what it takes to rouse you...an insult to your people. I shall have to remember that.** _

_You're not there,_ Sheik thought, screwing his eyes shut as he tried to will the voice away. _You're not real, you're not real...you died! I saw you die!_

_**This again? You did not see me die, little one.** _

_The Hero did!_

_**My Light only saw a part of me die...and believe you me; I am far from done with him and you. Now, get up! Staying here will only get you killed!** _

A jolt went through Sheik's body, forcing him to sit up despite his aching joints. He ground his teeth together to stop himself from crying out, a small groan escaping from his lips. He was naked, he realised, and the chamber was freezing. _Where am I?_ he wondered, trying to get his mind off the pain.

_**The prison. They thought you were dead and tossed you into an empty cell. They didn't want to take any chances.** _

_And? Was I dead?_ Sheik had decided that he was either having another nightmare, in which case the shadow could not hurt him, or he was truly dead, which meant, again, that the shadow could not hurt him. At least, not any more than he already had.

_**You are not dead** _ **now** _**, if that matters to you. I saw to that. Whoever tried to drug you was inexperienced and gave you a far too large dose. It would have killed you if it wasn't for...** _

_You?_

_**...correct.** _

_You hate me. Why did you save me?_ Sheik managed to get on his feet, though he quickly regretted it when his head smashed into the ceiling, causing stars to explode in his vision. Even he had difficulty seeing in darkness like this. The chamber was exceedingly tiny. A slow and deliberate pacing around the room revealed that there was a small stream that ran from one side of the room to the next in a small groove in the floor. The water smelled of rust and something he couldn't identify, but Sheik was so thirsty that he didn't care, fell to his knees and lapped at the foul-smelling liquid, almost gagging at the taste.

_**You're an enjoyable sight like that, you know.** _

_Shut up,_ Sheik thought, cheeks burning in embarrassment. _How can you even see me?_

_**I could tell you, but you would not enjoy it.** _

_You're not able to take a corporeal form, or you would have done so already._

_**Who says I haven't?** _

The last sentence was said with such smugness that Sheik could practically feel it, but that was not the reason he suddenly sprang back on his feet and whirled around with a fist flying through the air. The voice had been directly _behind_ him when it had spoken. "Where are you?" he demanded, his voice no more than a hoarse croak.

" **Right here,** " said a whisper in his ear, and Sheik felt a pair of strong arms embracing him from behind. He tried to struggle out of the grip, but the shadow was simply too strong, the arms holding him firmly in place.

"Let me go!"

" **No. I have waited far too long for this to ever let you go again.** **You are mine, have you forgotten that? I'll** _ **make**_ **you remember if I have to!** "

Heart thundering, Sheik continued to struggle. The shadow's voice terrified him more than it ever had, the phantom pain of its sword piercing his chest flaring up like it had happened mere seconds before. "I ceased to be yours the second you killed me!" he shouted.

The shadow merely chuckled, tightening its hold. " **You are so adorable when you think you can defy me, little one...** "

Anger tearing at him, Sheik clenched his fists, ground his teeth and screwed his eyes so tightly shut that he saw white, willing the shadow away with every inch of his being, wishing he had never gone into the Water Temple. _Leave me alone!_ he thought again and again. With one last, defying scream he tore out of the shadow's hold, crashing into the opposite wall, arms flailing painfully as he batted away the assault he imagined was coming any second.

But the shadow didn't come. Sheik opened his eyes and was surprised to see that the chamber was empty, and the tell-tale red eyes of the shadow were nowhere to be seen. _Did I imagine the whole thing? Was I dreaming?_

Whatever it had been, it didn't change the fact that he could still feel the arms around him, making him shudder. It had felt so _real_. His head aching, he sank back to the floor, wondering what was going to happen now. He took a brief account of everything that had happened before he blacked out.

 _The king was poisoned and is probably dead,_ he thought. _I was poisoned as well, but with a different kind. Did they mean to kill me, or merely drug me?_

He shivered in the cold. Why did they have to strip him?

Growling, he walked shakily over to the heavy door and knocked on it several times. He attempted to shout for someone to open it, but his voice was still just a croak, and he began to cough. He had to knock for several minutes before he heard footsteps approaching and the jangling of keys. A peephole opened, and someone on the other side drew in a surprised breath, after which it was slammed shut, a sound that made Sheik's head ache even worse. A man shouted on the other side of the door, and several pairs of footsteps quickly approached. A hurried conversation was had, and the jangling of keys could be heard again.

"You in there!" a woman shouted in a commanding voice. "Step back against the wall, keep your hands where we can see them and don't try any funny business! Understood?"

"Yes," Sheik croaked, covering himself up for decency's sake. The door opened with a loud creak and four guards marched in, their swords at the ready in case Sheik was going to try anything. Not that Sheik was in any shape to do anything other than look mildly embarrassed at his nudity at the moment, but protocol had to be obeyed, of course. Another guard, wearing a slightly different coloured outfit than the others followed seconds after.

"We thought you were dead," he said matter-of-factly, as if this was an everyday occurrence.

"I'd say I'm obviously not," Sheik replied, blinking in the light coming from the door.

"They say you poisoned the king," the guard said—he must have been the dungeon keeper, Sheik decided. "And then you poisoned yourself in order to appear innocent."

"Why would I use a different poison on myself if I wanted to appear innocent?" Sheik asked, feeling a sarcastic comment coming on, but he fought it down.

"Ah, so you know about poisons, then?"

"Of course I do, I'm a trained assassin!" Sheik snapped, realising with a wince what a mistake he had just made a second later.

The guards exchanged looks, and the keeper was about to say something else, but the female guard, who had been looking at him with a look of mixed annoyance and pity interrupted him. "Can we give him some clothes, for pity's sake? He's just a kid!"

"He just admitted to being an assassin who killed the king!" exclaimed the keeper. "He deserves no pity!"

"I didn't kill anyone!" Sheik said loudly. "Someone must have poisoned the king and tried to blame me!"

"A likely story, I'm sure," the keeper said, glaring at him. He looked at the female guard, who caught his gaze and held it firmly until he sighed and nodded. "Fine, fine, get him some rags, then! And call the councillor—he can decide what to make of this."

"Good," Sheik said. "I want to speak with someone who knows what they're doing anyway."

* * *

Link was pacing anxiously around his cell, casting glances at the door as he waited for someone to come tell him what had happened to Sheik. They'd been separated soon after the councillor had appeared, and Link had been dragged away to a dang dungeon cell and unceremoniously tossed in. He'd been provided with an oil lamp, which was currently doing a very poor job of illuminating the cell. But Link didn't care about lighting; he just wanted to know if Sheik was okay.

Growling to himself, he flung himself at the cell door and banged on it repeatedly, shouting for someone to give him the news. But no one answered, and he was left alone. The cell was freezing, and the uniform Jeryd had brought him wasn't doing much to keep the chill out. He wrapped his arms around himself and rubbed his arms, trying to keep warm. He realised that he was wasting energy and forced himself to sit down against the wall opposite of the door, staring intently at the wooden portal as he tried to make sense of what had happened—anything to distract himself from the mental image of Sheik stuttering, shaking, going pale and finally collapsing against the guards that dragged him away.

So, the king had been poisoned, that much was obvious. And so had Sheik. So, obviously, Sheik couldn't have been behind it, no matter what Rehm had said about deflecting the blame or whatever it was. So, someone had tried to frame him. But who? That's where Link hit a brick wall. He knew he didn't possess enough knowledge about the country to know who could have been responsible. But why would they blame Sheik? Yeah, he was a Sheikah, a famed assassin, but there had to be more than one assassin in the world, right? Right? So, if someone specifically chose to frame Sheik, then things had to run deeper than just needing an assassin to blame...was someone trying to make it seem like Hyrule was trying to pull something?

Link felt the beginnings of a headache coming on and shook his head to banish the thoughts from his mind. He _hated_ politics! Thinking about stuff like this was always Sheik's job, not his. And Sheik was in trouble!

"Damn it!" he shouted as he sprang to his feet and renewed his assault on the door. "Someone tell me what's going on, for Goddesses' sake!"

No one answered, and Link went back to pacing, sitting, and knocking again at least fifteen more times before the peephole finally opened and an angry face appeared on the other side.

"What're you caterwauling about?" the man demanded.

"I want to know what the hell is going on with Sheik!" Link responded, levelling a glare that would make his lover proud at the man.

"The assassin? Hell if I know," the man said, not even fazed by the look he was receiving. "Looked pretty dead to me when they dragged him through here."

"You're lying," Link said, refusing to even consider the thought. "You're just trying to get me to say something, aren't you?" Sheik had died once before—it was going to take more than a little poison to kill him a second time.

"What you say or don't say is up to you, kid," said the man, "all I know is that you'll be doing yourself a favour if you admit that you were working with the Sheikah in assassinating the king, may the Enlightened One put his soul to rest."

Link gave the man a long, hard stare. "We had nothing to do with the king's death," he said firmly.

"Whatever helps you sleep at night. Don't count on the councillor or the prince to believe you, though. Was there something else you wanted?"

Link blinked, wondering what he and Sheik had ever done to deserve something like this. Sheik was probably thinking the same thing. Because he was alive. And not dead. Definitely not dead. Because he was alive. He shook his head, and the man or guard or whatever he was closed the peephole, his footsteps quickly disappearing. The Hero stared at the small hatch for a few minutes before sighing in defeat.

"I hope you're alright, Sheik," he muttered as he went back to the wall and sat down. He was tired, the shock of everything that had happened during the party finally taking its toll on him. His eyes slid shut almost of their own accord, and he fell into a restless slumber.

He didn't even dream anything, but felt an overwhelming sense of dread and anger, preventing him from resting fully. Even so, he was jolted awake as the door to his cell was suddenly wrenched open and slammed against the stone wall.

"Get up, kid!" the man he had spoken to through the peephole said loudly as he stepped inside, wearing full armour. "You've been pardoned!"

"What?" Link asked, rubbing his eyes. How long had he been out, anyway? "What did you say?"

"The Sheikah's confessed that he was working on his own, the sly bastard," the guard said, giving him an unhappy look. "Turns out you were just an innocent bystander after all. So sorry about the inconvenience."

"So...wait, what? Sheik confessed?" Link couldn't believe his ears. Sheik couldn't have done it—there was no way! Or, Link could imagine Sheik doing it, but not without informing him, and definitely not without a good reason or orders from Zelda! From Zelda...was she involved too? No, impossible!

"That's correct," said the guard, nodding. "Was the first thing he said during the interrogation, too."

"So...he's okay?"

"For such a small guy, his system sure could take a beating," the guard said, signalling for the Hero to stand up. "The torture master will definitely break him, though. If he's okay now, he won't be for long."

Link paused. "You're gonna torture him? Why? He's already confessed!" Not that Link believed that Sheik had actually poisoned the king, but he'd play along if that's what Sheik had been planning by mock-confessing...or at least, Link _hoped_ Sheik had mock-confessed.

"We need to see if there's anything else he's hiding, but he won't answer any other questions." Now a smug grin appeared on the guard's face. "It won't take long, that much I know."

"I want to see him," Link demanded.

"Sorry, no can do," the guard said. "I've been instructed to escort you to the entry hall, where someone will be waiting to escort you out of the city."

"What?"

"You've been pardoned, but on the condition that you leave Lumina immediately."

"Oh, I'll leave alright, but I'll be taking Sheik with me."

"Kid, you've got a good deal here," the guard said, leaning close, as if he was afraid of being heard. "No one believes that you weren't involved, and there's more than a few who want to see you both hang for what you've done. The councillor has decided to be benevolent on behalf of the prince, and I suggest you hightail it out of here before he changes his mind. The Sheikah will stay here, though. And don't even think about trying to punch me out and rescuing him. You won't get far."

"Then let me see him, at least," Link pleaded, all the while wondering if he could punch the man out and storm Sheik's cell and rescue him in a glorious escape attempt. Some thoughts just had to be thought about.

"Kid, I am trying to be nice here, but if you don't follow me to the entry hall immediately, I'll be forced to lock you in the cell again, and if you ask to be allowed to see the Sheikah one more time..." He left the sentence hanging, but Link could imagine how it would end, and nodded silently. "Good," the guard said and motioned for Link to follow him.

The dungeons were a labyrinthine series of hallways full of cell doors, most of which were open and empty. Every now and then, the complaining voices of prisoners could be heard, but the guard quickly silenced them with an angry shout and a kick to their door. Water dripped from the ceiling, and a musty smell hung in the air, leaving no doubt that the place was not very well-cared for. Link had seen dungeons before—plenty of them, in fact—so he wasn't particularly bothered by the darkness or tight quarters, but he still didn't like it. It seemed...too old.

"Where are we?" he asked the guard, still keeping an eye out for any sign of his lover—voice or otherwise.

"The dungeons beneath the castle," the guard replied with a sense of pride in his voice. "We haven't really used them ever since the real prison up in the mountains opened, but traitors against the crown and other scum like that are still kept down here. No point in transporting them far away when they're going to be executed anyway."

Executed? Link bit his lip. What had they gotten themselves into this time?

He was led up several flights of stairs before they emerged into a well-lit hallway that must have been on the ground floor of the castle. There were several guards standing guard at the door, their angry faces telling no lies about what they thought about Link. There was one more occupant, however, and they turned around as the door slammed shut behind them. Jeryd was frowning, his hands clutching a small satchel with a leather strap for carrying it over a shoulder.

"My lord," he greeted Link curtly with a nod. "I wish we could have met again during happier circumstances."

Link didn't answer, but nodded back.

"I will take him from here, sergeant," Jeryd told Link's escort. "Thank you very much."

"Sir," the guard said, disappearing back into the dungeons.

"Follow me please," Jeryd said. Link did so, and Jeryd slowly began to lead him towards the castle exit, talking all the while. "As I'm sure you already know, the king passed away a few hours ago. He was murdered with a rare and exotic poison, the recipe of which has been lost to the ages. Very few people are even aware of its existence today, though I suspect your...friend is one of them."

Link noticed the slight pause at the word "friend", but didn't say anything and only continued nodding.

"In fact, we _know_ your friend is one of them, because he confessed to the murder just an hour ago, and even listed all the ingredients to it. As he has confessed to the murder of the king, he will be held here until further notice. He did, however, admit to working alone and that you were not involved, and because of that, you are allowed to leave on the condition that you depart the kingdom immediately and deliver these documents to your princess." He handed the satchel to Link. "They have been sealed and are for your monarch's eyes only, but I can tell you that they contain a written confession from your friend, a new trade arrangement as well as a demand for compensation. If she pays, the earl will be allowed to return to Hyrule."

Link halted, leaving Jeryd to look at him with a puzzled look. "You're expecting Zelda to pay you to free Sheik, who's accused of a crime he didn't even commit?"

"Didn't commit...?" said Jeryd. "I am sorry, my lord, but the Sheikah confessed to it."

Link grimaced at the tone of derision Jeryd has said 'Sheikah' with. "Sheik didn't do it, I know it," he said.

"Then why would he confess?"

"Why was he poisoned too? Why would he poison himself?" Link countered.

Jeryd stared at him for a few seconds before shaking his head. "Deflecting questions is childish, my lord, and I will not be caught up in your games. Please, don't make this any harder than it already is." He continued walking, not even waiting for Link to catch up.

They entered the grand hall, and found councillor Rehm and the guard captain waiting for him. "That will do, Rial, you may leave now," he told the captain, who saluted and left the hall while glaring at Link. Rehm turned his attention to Link.

"Of all the underhanded tactics... I have never seen anything like this," he said, looking at him with complete and utter disgust. "The king had nothing but good things to say about you both—he invited you to his castle, raised a glass in friendship, swore to an alliance with your princess, and how do you repay him? You murder him in a most cowardly manner!" Spittle flew from the old man's mouth and showered Link's face. "I've a good mind to urge the prince to have you both executed immediately, but he claims that you and your princess should be given an opportunity to explain yourselves before he makes any decisions about this, and so I saddle you with this task, 'Hero of Time'." He spat Link's title out with the same venom one would use when talking about a child molester. "Return to your princess, give her the documents, urge her to concede to the demands contained within and pray to your _goddesses_ that the prince will find it in his grieving heart to not declare war upon you for this most heinous betrayal. Is that understood?"

"Yes," Link said, knowing that trying to argue with the man was pointless.

"Good," Rehm said. "Jeryd, take this...this _Hylian_ away and make sure he's out of the city before dawn!"

"Yes, councillor," Jeryd said.

As they walked through the courtyard and headed for the gates, Link couldn't help but feel that he was giving up too easily. He refused to be believe that Sheik had confessed to the murder willingly. So, either they had already tortured him (which seemed unlikely since Link knew Sheik was the most stubborn person he had ever met and wouldn't crack after just a few hours) or they were simply lying. Both options meant that Sheik was in peril, however, and that meant that Link couldn't leave. There was no way he was going to leave his lover behind here.

He remained quiet until they reached his and Sheik's hotel room. As soon as they had stepped inside, he turned around and faced Jeryd, fixing him with his most serious stare.

"Jeryd, listen to me," he said quietly.

"I am always listening," the human said derisively.

"Sheik didn't do it."

Jeryd sighed. "We have already been over this, Hero," he said. "The earl has confessed and—"

"But it doesn't make any sense!" Link interrupted, grabbing the human's arms and slamming him into the wall, frustration and anger overtaking him. "Why would Sheik do such a thing? He wasn't ordered to by Zelda—I would've known since we both read any messages we get from her! There was no mention of any assassination order in there! And why would Zelda order it? Hyrule has just barely recovered from the war, and provoking another nation by killings its king is just stupid—and if there's one thing Zelda isn't, it's stupid!"

Jeryd blinked at the disjoined rant. "As much as I would like to believe that, Hero, unless you can produce any evidence of your friend's innocence...well, there is nothing I can do."

That sentence, negative as it was, told Link one thing: Jeryd wasn't sure about Sheik's guilt either.

"Sheik hasn't even been in Zelda's service since the war ended," Link continued. "She freed him from his people's oath, meaning he isn't an assassin anymore."

"Again, my lord, I would be all too happy to believe you, but without any evidence to contradict what we have already gathered..."

His arguments exhausted, Link groaned and let Jeryd go, not missing the fact that the human had a hand on his bejewelled dagger, ready to defend himself in case he turned aggressive. He didn't have any evidence of anything, and he couldn't think of anything to say that could possibly sway Jeryd over to his side, even if it was clear that the human was sceptical about the whole situation as well.

"He didn't do it," he repeated to himself quietly. "I know he didn't."

"How?" Jeryd asked. "How do you know that?"

Link didn't look at him, but stared out the window. The city was full of lights and movement. People were dancing in the streets, celebrating the festival. The king's death had not yet been announced it seemed. "I just do," he finally said. "I know him better than anyone..."

"And you know for a fact that he wouldn't poison someone?" Jeryd said.

"I haven't asked him about his killing habits," Link said bitterly, "but I know that he wouldn't be stupid enough to poison himself."

"That does not exactly prove his innocence, though," Jeryd said, his voice growing gentler. "Only that there was someone else who knew about poison at the party."

"And why doesn't it?" Link asked. "Maybe they poisoned both the king _and_ Sheik to throw you all off his scent."

"That could have been a plausible theory," Jeryd said, nodding, "but there is one fact that crushes it: the poison that was used to kill the king...is one that was invented by the Sheikah."

"So? Someone could have stolen the recipe."

"It was never written down according to the research I've done on them." Jeryd leaned against the wall. He seemed tense. "The poison itself is very famous—and feared—but no one knows how to make it except the shadow folk. It is called the Red Viper. Red because of its effects and Viper because of the speed at which it works. There is no cure, it is impossible to detect by taste, though it gives off a foul smell in its pure state. But I am digressing—the point is that no one in this kingdom knows how to make it, and you two were the only foreigners present at the party. Yes, it is circumstantial evidence, but no one cares about that as long as someone is held accountable for Robar's death." He sighed again. "And unfortunately, now that he has confessed to it, whether or not it is true, I'm afraid nothing is going to be able to help your friend."

"Unless I break him out," Link said, looking at Jeryd. "There's no way I'm leaving this place without him. And if they won't release, I'll have to do it myself."

"Such an action could provoke war," Jeryd said worriedly. "And it would be quite difficult. The castle is on high alert now."

Link grinned. "You don't think Sheik is guilty either, do you?" he asked. "Otherwise, you'd have me arrested by now for even suggesting breaking him out."

Jeryd looked uncomfortable for a few seconds before nodding. "You're right—too many conclusions have been jumped to, though there is still the matter of the poison..."

"Someone must have figured out how to make it on their own," Link said, knowing this was the biggest hurdle. "Sheik had no reason to kill the king, and I don't think he would have chosen poison if he was going to do it anyway. He's a more of...hands-on kind of guy."

"My lord," Jeryd said slowly, "I want to believe that the earl is innocent...but there is only one thing that can convince me of that at the moment."

"And that is?"

Jeryd looked Link dead in the eyes and said, "You are lovers, are you not? He told me at the party." At Link's surprised but confirming nod, he continued: "Then give me your word, as a warrior, a hero and a lover, that he is innocent, and I will believe you."

"I swear," Link said, "on my honour, my life, my very soul, that Sheik is innocent."

Jeryd nodded, smiling slightly. "Then I believe you...and I will help you."

* * *

**Soul Remnants  
Chapter 10**

* * *

_**THUD!** _

_**THUD!** _

_**THUD!** _

The sound of a fist hitting soft flesh and groaning kept repeating inside the room, the sounds bouncing off the stone walls and continuing in an endless pattern of echoes. A large, sweaty man was trying to pound his target into submission, but the stubborn boy in front of him didn't even make a sound; the one who was doing the groaning was the torture master. How long had they been at this now? Two hours at the least, and he was exhausted. He glanced over at another man sitting quietly in the corner, pen at the ready to write down anything the prisoner said. The writer nodded quietly for him to continue.

Sheik gritted his teeth and steeled his aching muscles for another round. The torture master definitely knew what he was doing, that much was clear from the bruises that had started to form all over his chest, stomach and face (or, he assumed they were forming on his face), but after being through several rounds of _real_ torture at the hands of Hatra and Nuviro, this was just child's play. It seemed that the Luminan torture master was a one-trick pony of sorts, preferring to let his fists do the talking. Sheik was used to beatings like this and it would take a lot more than this to make him talk about anything, let alone admitting to assassinating King Robar. But even so, Sheik was starting to feel fatigue setting in, and he knew that he would start making pained sounds soon, and that would probably make the torture master think he was getting somewhere.

The huge man drew his fist back, aiming for Sheik's stomach, and the exhausted Sheikah tried tightening his abdominal muscles, but a sharp pain stabbed through them just then, and he had to relax lest he'd start screaming. The ensuing blow forced all the air out of his lungs in a humongous moan and the following coughing wracked his body, flaring up pain all over it. He spat out a mouthful of blood and glanced shakily up at the torture master, who was looking at him with anticipation, sweat running down his face, definitely awaiting the fruit of his labours. Sheik stared for a few seconds before forcing his split lips to display a grin at the man.

"Is that the best you can do?" he asked, still out of breath. "Please, don't hold back on my account. I'd like to have a proper interrogation rather than this pussyfooting around."

The look of absolute horror and indignation that crossed over the torture master's face made the last two hours worth it, in Sheik's opinion, and he had to resist chuckling out loud. "I have a few suggestions, if you'd like to hear them," he added for good measure, taking a little extra pleasure in seeing the scowl on the man's face deepen.

"Now you listen to me, kid," he said, leaning in close. His breath stank and washed over Sheik like the odour of an open manhole cover. "You'd do well to tell that nice man in the corner everything you know, or things are just going to get worse for you."

"Worse?" Sheik asked, feigning horror. "Dear oh dear, things can get even _worse_ than being falsely accused of assassinating a king, imprisoned and tortured? The torture is a little soft, granted, but things can get _worse_? Oh my..."

The sarcasm earned him another punch to the cheek, and Sheik was really starting to worry about losing more teeth. He'd lost one to Hatra already—or was it Nuviro? His memories of that particular day were a little hazy. He'd lost one, anyway, and he was in no hurry to lose more. He spat out another mouthful of blood.

"Well?" asked the torture master. "Are you going to talk? Or do I have to shed my velvet gloves?"

"Velvet gloves...?" Sheik asked. "Feels more like regular silk, to be ho—"

_**THUD!** _

"Enough jokes, kid!" roared the man. "I'm trying to go easy on you because you're young and I don't feel right doing this to you, but I have one job and one job only: to make you talk—and I'll do that job to the best of my ability. Now talk or I'll start breaking limbs!"

Sheik thought for a moment. While he had no doubt that he'd be able to escape eventually, doing so with broken legs or arms would be a heavy disadvantage—and he'd need all the advantage he could get. His mind was still spinning from the drug that was still coursing through his system, but at least he could think somewhat coherently and plan strategically—or semi-strategically, anyway. And his strategic mind told him right then that keeping his bones unbroken would be a good idea.

He sighed heavily and lowered his head, staring at his feet. The chair he'd been tied to was old and rickety, and Sheik was surprised it hadn't collapsed yet. A small pair of shorts was all that kept him unexposed to the world (he could thank the female guard standing outside for that), and he shivered in the cold air of the chamber. Thankfully, the guard hadn't gone after the most precious of all things to a male yet. He made a show of looking torn and sighed heavily a second time before lifting his head to look at the torture master, his eyes swimming with fake tears.

"Alright, I'll tell you everything...just please don't hurt me anymore..." he said weakly, adding a little sniffle at the end. "It hurts so much..."

That took the torture master completely aback, and he looked like he suddenly regretted what he'd done immensely. He nodded to the man in the corner, who rose from his chair and moved to stand in front of Sheik, pen and paper at the ready. The torture master stood by the door, waiting patiently.

"Right," the other man said, adjusting his spectacles, "how about you start at the beginning? Why did you kill him? Who ordered it?"

Sheik sniffed again and looked away from the man, acting ashamed, mumbling under his breath. "Can...make...away?"

"Pardon? I didn't quite catch that," the bookish man said, leaning closer.

"Can you please make him go away?" Sheik whispered. "He...he scares me..." He nodded towards the torture master, who was looking tense.

"Of course," said the man and made a hand gesture at the master, who nodded and left the room, but not without giving Sheik a lingering look of regret. After the door had slammed shut, the man nodded for Sheik to continue.

Sheik tensed up and began to talk, words flooding out of his mouth, all of it gibberish. There were conspiracies, plots and plans, there were accomplices and complicated, long-term strategies. All of it was just something Sheik came up with on the go. The man wrote down everything, his pen flying over the paper as Sheik spoke. However, as Sheik neared the climax of his made-up story, he began to lower his voice and look at the floor again, making the man come closer and closer until he was standing right in front of Sheik.

"And then we—I mean I arrived at the party, saw the drinks being handed out and...and..."

"And then what?" asked the man, eyes shining.

"And then I knocked you out," Sheik said and tensed up. With a pained groan, he lifted his legs and wrapped them around the man's neck, squeezing tightly. The man fought feebly for a few seconds, but quickly realised that nothing was going to be able to pry Sheik's legs from his neck and it took Sheik's entire strength of will not to twist and snap it. It would be so easy, too... He waited until the man was unable to stand on his own and his face went blue before finally letting go. He fell with a quiet sigh, unconscious. Nodding to himself, Sheik loosened the ropes that held him to the chair. The knots were amateurish and it was no problem for him to free himself. He made sure the man wasn't dead (he didn't need that on his conscience) before searching through his clothes, hoping to find a weapon of sorts...but there was nothing, and Sheik cursed inwardly. His plan had been depended on him procuring a weapon from the man.

 _What kind of fool doesn't even carry a knife for self-defence?_ he wondered.

Councillor Rehm had never come down to see him personally, but he was told by the guards that he had ordered the torture to be performed. That was strange since Rehm had struck Sheik as a man who could not resist gloating over victories like this. Did that mean that he did not consider it a victory that he was imprisoned? That he _knew_ that Sheik had nothing to do with the murder?

Someone knocked on the door from the outside. "Hey, how's it going in there?" someone asked.

"Everything's fine," Sheik replied, doing his best to imitate the unconscious writer's voice, wincing when his voice cracked at the end.

He didn't do a good enough job, for the peephole in the door opened, and someone immediately began shouting angrily on the outside. The door burst open and Sheik was knocked down by the same guard who'd given him the shorts, her eyes flashing angrily. The torture master was hot on her heels, immediately ensuring the writer's well-being.

"He's just unconscious," Sheik said, keeping his eye on the tip of the spear that was currently very close to his throat.

"Shut up!" the female guard said. "Is he okay?" she asked the torture master, who nodded.

"Yeah, just unconscious, as he said," the torturer said, lifting the man up and carrying him outside.

"I felt sorry for you, you know," the female guard said as she slowly began to back out of Sheik's cell. "But I guess you're just a very good actor. Don't expect any more sympathy from me!" With that said she closed the cell door and locked it, leaving Sheik alone in the light from the oil lamp the writer had taken inside with him.

Sheik sighed, sitting down on the chair and crossing his arms gingerly, trying not to upset his sore body any more than he had to. "Well, that didn't work," he said to himself.

" **Obviously not,"** said the shadow's voice from behind him, causing Sheik to roll his eyes.

"For a hallucination brought on by a misadministration of a drug, you're quite impressive, you know..."

* * *

"How are we going to do this?" Link asked, still pacing around the room. Jeryd was sitting by the desk at the window, staring out at the city, which was still very much alive in celebration, so oblivious to the death of their monarch.

"I wonder why they haven't announced it yet..." the human mused, turning the chair around to face the Hero. "Well, I cannot figure out any other way to enter the castle without going through the main entrance." He grimaced when he saw Link do the same. "I'm sorry, but I am not all that familiar with the inner workings of the place. If we tried climbing over the walls and into the gardens I'm pretty sure we'd be caught. And the sewers...I don't know enough about them to navigate directly into the castle. I suppose we could use them to escape, but we haven't reached that bridge yet."

Link stretched his neck, feeling it pop slightly. "But we can't go in the front door—I'll be recognised." He flicked his ears. "These aren't exactly hard to spot, and I'm supposed to be out of the city by now."

"Apart from the ears, you look pretty much identical to a human, though," Jeryd said, looking him up and down. "All you have to do is cover them up and don some new clothes. One of councillor Ise's duties is overlooking the recruiting process of maids and such in the castle. I could probably sneak you in as a new servant in the castle, or something like that."

"At four in the morning?" Link asked disbelievingly.

"We hire at all hours," Jeryd said, smirking. "And there's always a need for new servants."

Link paced around the room for a few more minutes before coming to a halt, shaking his head in dismay. "I can't figure anything else out either. I guess we're going with that plan, then."

"You do realise that if we are caught, neither of us will be shown any mercy?"

"Don't care," the Hero said, smacking a fist into a palm. "Sheik needs me, and I'll get him outta there or die trying."

"An admirable attitude, certainly," Jeryd said, rising from the chair. "Let's just hope your luck is as strong as your will."

"I don't believe in luck," Link said, flashing Jeryd a determined expression. "Or, at least not when Sheik's involved. Help me find some clothes, will you?"

"My pleasure," said Jeryd.

Twenty minutes later, they were both standing in a darkened alcove just outside the hotel, watching the castle gates. Link was wearing his regular outfit minus his sword and shield, which Jeryd had said would attract negative attention. The assistant had paid someone to run down to the stables with Sheik and Link's packs in preparation for their escape, even though Link hadn't felt comfortable with entrusting someone with the Master Sword, but Jeryd had assured him they wouldn't touch it.

They looked on as the change of guards took place and Jeryd suddenly began grinning to himself.

"What?" Link asked.

"I know the sergeant in charge of this shift," Jeryd said, pointing at the guard that stood directly in front of the gate. "He'll let us without asking any questions other than who you are. Now, you will let me do that talking, understand? Otherwise we might find ourselves in quite a sticky situation."

"Right, whatever," Link said. Sheik was inside there, and the longer they spent just thinking about rescuing him, the more time they'd have to mistreat his lover— _and Link couldn't have that!_

"You said you had a way to cover up those," Jeryd said, glancing at the Hero's less-than-discrete ears. "Might want to do it right now."

"Okay," Link said, fishing something out of his pocket and pulling it over his head.

Jeryd was unable to keep a snort in. "If I may ask you a question...why have you put a sock on your head, Hero?"

Link glared at Jeryd. "It's not a _sock_ , okay? It's a _cap_ , the same type of _cap_ that I've been wearing since I was a kid. No one gave me any crap about it then."

"Probably because children are expected to do silly things like wearing socks on their heads," Jeryd said, still struggling to stifle the laughter that threatened to spill from his mouth. "Adults, on the other hand..."

" _Cap_ ," Link repeated, pointing at the ridiculous garment on his head. He pointed down at his boots. " _Socks_. _"_

"Very well," Jeryd said. He watched the gates for a little while longer. "Does the earl approve of you wearing that?" he asked.

"No," Link said somewhat bitterly. "He hates it when I wear them."

"As well he should," Jeryd said and smiled at the Hero. "At least it covers your ears." It was true—Link had pulled the cap over his ears, which did an admirable job of hiding his Hylian origins. "Okay, I think it's time we tried this insane little plan of ours. Follow me, do as I say and above all else, _do not talk_ , understood?"

"Got it."

"Alright, here we go."

They marched towards the gates, Jeryd in front and Link hanging slightly back. Jeryd approached the sergeant with a wave and a big smile on his face. It didn't look very friendly in the light from the streetlamp, but the sergeant didn't seem to notice.

"Sergeant Orlin, good evening," Jeryd said, shaking the man's hand.

"Jeryd," said the sergeant curtly, nodding. "Going inside, are you?"

"Indeed, sergeant, so if you could just open the door we'll be on our wa—"

"Who's this?" Orlin asked, staring at Link, who suddenly felt that he should have used something to stop his ears from sticking out. Maybe a ribbon, or...

"New servant," Jeryd said, still smiling. "Starting today. Thought I'd bring him along so he could get acquainted with the castle's schedule from the very beginning of the day."

"S' going to be a changed schedule today, though," Orlin said sadly. "With the...you know what."

"Of course, but I still think it will be invaluable in his training," Jeryd said, pointing at Link. "He's young and needs to be broken in, and what better way to do that than during a stressful period? It'll make him appreciate calm periods more and inspire him to work harder."

Orlin gave Jeryd a weird look, but seemed to accept the reasoning. "I guess you're right," he said and looked at Link. "You're in for one hell of a job, kid. You're lucky Jeryd's going to be looking out for you."

Link nodded and smiled, pretending to be shy.

"Oh, and one more thing," Orlin said just as he was about to signal for a smaller door in the gates to be opened. "I've been instructed to ask you if you've seen to it that the _Hero of Time_ left the city. Has he?" Link's title was said with such a sneer that it almost made him want to punch the man.

"He has," Jeryd said. "I saw him leave personally."

"Good," Orlin said. "We don't need him running around and causing a scene, after all. Alright, I'll you in now. Good luck, kid."

As the door closed behind them and they walked down the narrow corridor to the courtyard, Jeryd sighed a little. "That was the easy part," he said quietly, glancing at the small holes in the wall that during times of war would contain an entire regiment of crossbowmen. "Now for the difficult one."

"We're inside, aren't we?" Link asked.

"Yes, but taking you to the dungeons will be a whole different matter," Jeryd explained. "The guards would accept me leading you to the servants' quarters, but the problem is that the dungeons are in the complete opposite direction, and I'm not that big of an authority in the castle that I can go anywhere I want. The only ones with that authority are the prince, Rial, and Councillor Rehm."

"Who's Rial?"

"The captain of the guards. A good man to have on your side, but the very worst enemy you can have. And, I'm sorry to say, he's currently the enemy of both you and the earl. Luckily, though, he will most likely be focusing his attention on protecting the prince, which means he will probably be upstairs."

"That's good," Link said. They walked in silence for a few moments before Link opened his mouth again. "Did Sheik really confess?" he asked quietly.

Jeryd didn't answer for a few seconds. "So I was told," he finally said. "But given the reputation of this place, I don't put too much faith in that statement. For all I know, they could be saying it to give them a reason to keep the earl locked up and to get you to leave the kingdom. What I find strange is that they told you to leave the kingdom, but did not assign an escort to you to ensure that you actually left. I was merely told to accompany you to the city gates and that was it. I was told of no soldiers waiting for you, so..."

"So they're lying?" Link said.

"They could be...or maybe they are telling the truth, but are so upset by the king's death that they are making mistakes in protocol..." He quickly cut himself off as they came into the courtyard and ascended the stairs to the castle itself. Another guard stood there, but he let them inside immediately with no questions asked when Jeryd showed him a piece of paper.

And then they were in the grand hall. It was almost completely empty save for a few idle guards standing here and there, paying them no attention. Jeryd blinked. "I thought the place would be in complete lockdown, but...it's like nothing of importance has happened at all."

"Is that good or bad?" Link asked, wishing to get along as soon as possible.

"Good for us, potentially bad for everything," Jeryd said. "With so few guards about, I think we'll be able to make our way to the dungeons easily enough. Come on." He strode purposefully towards one of the hallways that connected to the grand hall—the same one he'd been led out—and they made their way towards the dungeons. No one bothered them on the way, not even the guards stationed at regular intervals at junctions and other places. When they reached the door to the basement, Jeryd paused again.

"There are supposed to be at least two guards here at all times," he said slowly, scanning the empty hall. "Where are they?"

"Who cares?" said Link and went for the door. "It just means there are less people to stop us. Come on, Sheik's waiting!"

"Don't just rush in, we have to be careful," Jeryd said, looking around worriedly.

Link gave him an impatient look, but nodded begrudgingly, realising that it wouldn't help Sheik much if they managed to get into trouble and captured themselves before they reached him. They opened the door and slowly made their way down the stairs, noticing that several of the torches on the walls had been put out. Link heard the sound of a blade being pulled out of a sheath and looked questioningly at Jeryd, who had pulled out his dagger. While sheath was bejewelled and richly decorated, the dagger it hid was the same kind Sheik was fond of using—simple and functional with no unnecessary embellishments. He nodded at the Hero.

"Just a precaution," he said, making Link wish he had a weapon of his own. Together they descended the stairs.

* * *

Sheik was shivering in the cold. He'd lifted the glass off the oil lamp and was trying to warm his hands around the little flame despite the risk of it going out. He didn't need hypothermia on top of everything else. His body was really starting to ache now and he didn't want to risk doing calisthenics to keep his core temperature up as that could damage his body even more. No one had entered his cell for over half an hour, which probably meant that they had no intention of coming back for a while. Most likely they were trying to make him fret and confess, though they were barking up the wrong tree with that one. Sheik prided himself on his patience, and all things considered the cell wasn't all that bad. Sure, he could have done without the cold and smell of mould, and the water in the small indentation in the floor could be fresher, but he'd survive for as long as it took him to come up with a new plan. He also needed to find Link and spring him out. He just hoped the Hero didn't do anything stupid in the meantime.

" **I could easily warm you, you know,"** the shadow said from behind him. **"It would be quite...pleasant."**

Sheik ignored it, focusing on getting his fingers warm and limber again.

" **Ignoring me, are you?"** the shadow said and chuckled. **"That has gotten you nowhere before. Remember when I—"**

"It seems that I am going insane," Sheik said to himself. "Hearing voices belonging to creatures that died long ago. It must be stress." He grinned when he heard the hallucination give a grunt of displeasure.

" **Stress? How dare you—"**

Sheik was surprised when the voice was cut off and replaced by grunts, thuds and sounds of bodies hitting the floor outside his cell. He immediately blew out the lamp and moved into a corner, cursing himself for ruining his night vision by staring directly at the flame. The sounds of struggle ceased as suddenly as they had begun, and silence reigned both inside and outside the cell once again. The hallucination was nowhere to be seen or heard, and Sheik thanked his mind for giving him a reprieve of its insufferable presence. It was bad enough that it was bothering him in his dreams, but now he was going to see it when he was _awake_ too?

He jumped when the peephole was violently opened and something was shoved through it. Cloth, by the sound of it. It hit the floor, and someone cleared their throat on the other side of the door. Light streamed through the opening, and it was impossible to see who was there.

"Are you awake in there?" the person asked. Their voice was rough, but Sheik could easily hear that they were making it so on purpose to mask their true voice. "Answer me."

"I am," Sheik replied, preparing himself for a fight if one was coming.

"Good," said the person. "Put on the clothes I just gave you, and wait for one minute. I will unlock the door, but you will not open it until an additional two minutes have passed, or I will kill you. Understand? Do you understand?"

"Yes," Sheik said, not sure if he could trust whoever was on the outside. It wasn't Link, he knew that for sure, and he didn't know about anyone else who could be interested in saving him here.

"Good," the person said again. "When two minutes have passed, you will open the door and step out of the cell. You will follow the corridor to the right until you reach a set of stairs. Go past them and take another right at the first junction. Follow the new corridor until you reach the fifth door on the right. Open it. You will be inside a storage room. There's a drain in the floor you can open. Go down it, and you will be in the sewers. No one will stop you, I have seen to that. I have left a map down there and a candle. Take them and follow the map until you reach the gates. Escape through them, retrieve your mount and leave Lumina as fast as you can. Did you get all that?"

Sheik went through the directions in his head three times before he finally gave an affirmative. The person had waited for him to do, surprisingly, as if they knew what Sheik would be doing.

"Good. Put on the clothes and remember to wait for two minutes. Good luck."

"Wait!" Sheik said before the person closed the peephole. "Who are you and why are you helping me?" he asked.

The person hesitated before answering. "My identity is best left unknown," they said, "but you can consider me...an old friend. Good luck, Sheik."

 _They know my name,_ Sheik thought as the peephole closed, leaving him in darkness again. He fumbled for the clothes on the floor and realised that they were of good quality. They were tight-fitting but with a few fluttery edges here and there that had been cut into, which immediately alerted Sheik to the fact that whoever had made the clothes were aware of the art of concealment and the way such shapes would help him blend into urban surroundings. There was even a hood on the shirt. He had also been given a dagger that had been rolled into the cloth. He shoved it up his shirt sleeve.

 _So, an assassin..._ he thought. _The one who killed the king, perhaps? A guilty conscience made them help me escape?_ He cursed himself as he realised he'd forgotten to ask if they knew where Link was being kept. But then he was puzzled by what the person had said. _An old friend? I have no old friends. At least not any old friends who are still alive. Zelda was my only one until I met Link..._

The door was unlocked, but Sheik remembered to heed the stranger's warning. Perhaps it was a trap, but he would have to take that chance. After counting two minutes, Sheik took hold of the handle and pulled. The portal opened with a loud creak. The smell of blood hit Sheik's nose before he'd gotten it halfway open. He peeked outside and saw that four guards lay on the floor. Two had had their throats slit while the other two showed signs of struggling. One had had been stabbed in the chest and slashed in the face and the last—the female guard who tried to help Sheik—had had her neck broken, her head lying in an unnatural position, her dull and lifeless eyes staring at nothing.

 _I'm sorry,_ Sheik thought, closing her eyes. _You tried to help me and all I did was repay you with unkindness. And now you have been murdered so that I can escape..._ He stood up and looked in the direction the assassin had wanted him to go. It was a cold and dark corridor. Could he truly trust the assassin not to kill him as well?

He took a better look at the clothes he'd been given. They were varying shades of grey, which was invaluable if one wanted to hide at night. They had definitely been made by an assassin. He was wondering where to go now when he suddenly heard voices approaching, and he quickly positioned himself in a dark corner, prepared to grab his dagger and fight his way out.

"...don't understand," said the first voice. "There are supposed to be guards here. Many guards. Something's wrong."

 _Wait a minute,_ Sheik thought, _I recognise that voice..._

"Maybe they're having a snack or something," said the other voice, and Sheik felt a smile come to his face as he recognised the owner. _Link!_

"His cell should be around this corner."

Link and Jeryd paused when they rounded the corner and saw the carnage outside Sheik's cell.

"What the...?" Jeryd said. Link pushed past him and looked inside the cell.

"Sheik, are you there?" he exclaimed.

Jeryd was checking the guards' pulses. "He killed them..." he said slowly. "This wasn't a fight."

"Who, Sheik?" Link asked. "Nah, he couldn't have..."

"Is the earl not a trained assassin and formidable fighter?" said Jeryd rhetorically. "You do not think he is capable of doing this?"

"Oh, he's more than capable, of it," Link said, making Sheik's heart sink a little. Did Link really believe that Sheik would kill like this? "But that doesn't mean he'd do it."

"He's right," the Sheikah said, stepping out from the shadows. "I didn't do this."

Both Link and Jeryd jumped at his sudden appearance, but Link recovered quickly and enveloped Sheik in a tight hug. "I knew you were okay," he whispered. He quickly let go when Sheik groaned at the sudden pressure on his bruises, and the Hero took in his lover's marred face. "What did they do to you?" he asked with anger in his voice.

"Nothing I couldn't handle," Sheik said, giving Link a small smile that hurt his lips. "Their torturer was positively amateurish."

"And you didn't kill these guards?" Jeryd said, keeping his distance. Why was he even here?

"No, I did not," Sheik said. "The person who gave me these clothes and opened the door did. They also gave me directions for escaping through the sewers."

"Who was this?" Jeryd demanded.

"I don't know," Sheik said, shrugging. "They were definitely an assassin, though, or else they wouldn't know how to kill these guards or give me these clothes. " Now he decided to ask a question himself. "What are you two doing down here, exactly?"

"We came to save you," Link said, making it sound as natural and second-nature to him as breathing. "What else?"

"You I can understand," Sheik said, pointing at Link, "but you...why would you want to save someone who apparently killed your king?" he said and pointed at Jeryd.

"Your lover convinced me that you were innocent," said Jeryd, shrugging like Sheik had done a minute before. "I believed him and decided to help him."

"Did you have a plan?" Sheik asked.

"Not as such," Jeryd said, looking embarrassed. "I wasn't even completely convinced we'd be able to get inside the castle at the moment."

Sheik glanced from Jeryd to Link, noticing with distaste the Hero— _his_ Hero—was wearing one of those horrid sock-caps again. Link noticed and pointed at his ears, which Sheik understood what meant. "Very well," he said slowly, "since I'm the only one with an escape plan here, I suppose we're taking the sewers."

"A plan given to you by an unknown assassin we don't know if we can trust?" Jeryd said.

"So far they have gotten me out of my cell and apparently removed every single guard down here," Sheik said. "I doubt they would go through so much trouble just to lure me into a trap. They already had me imprisoned, after all." He wobbled slightly, cursing the drugs in his system when Link put a hand on his shoulder to steady him. "Listen, we don't have much time. What do you recommend, Jeryd?" he said.

"I don't have a plan," Jeryd said. "I suppose that's worse than having a potentially dangerous plan, right?"

"I guess," Sheik said and looked at Link. "What do you say?"

Link shrugged. "I'll go with whatever you'll go with, Sheik."

"Then we go to the sewers," Sheik said and took charge. _I just hope we're not walking into a trap,_ he thought.


	2. Chapter 2

* * *

**Soul Remnants  
Chapter 11**

* * *

Candles and incense burned in the king's chambers, filling the room with light, heat and pleasant odours. The windows were tightly shut and the drapes drawn to keep anyone from seeing the horrific shape that lay gasping, wheezing and coughing in the bed. King Robar's eyes blinked, staring out into the room with heavy lids. Not even his own son could make them come to life.

Victor was weeping openly, not caring that the king's physicians were there to see it as they bustled around their dying king, trying to make his passing as comfortable as possible. There was no doubt that he would not be long. It was only a matter of time. The prince held his father's hand tightly, clinging to it for dear life, sobbing not only with grief, but guilt as well.

 _I did this,_ he thought, trying to catch his father's eyes with his own. _I made this happen…why did I do it?_ Rehm had promised him that it would be quick and painless, but this poison, this Red Viper, was making Robar's passing long and excruciating. Blood slowly leaked from every single orifice in his body as well as the pores of his skin, colouring the king's appearance a dark red, and there was nothing the physicians could do to staunch the bleeding. They said that the king's mind was long gone—starved for oxygen and atrophied—but that his brain was still fighting to keep the body going.

"Your majesty..." one of the two physicians slowly said, making Victor look at her with tears streaking down his cheeks. She was the younger of the two royal physicians, not much older than Victor, and far less traditional than her teacher, who was currently dabbing at the king's brow with a damp cloth. "You should get some sleep," she said sympathetically.

"How can I sleep when my father is dying?" Victor asked quietly, feeling a stab of pain directly in his heart as he said it. _Because of me,_ he added to himself. "You say he is not long for this world. I...I cannot leave him like this." He shook his head, but was unable to return his gaze to his father's unseeing eyes, and looked instead to Rial, who was standing guard with another soldier at the door. Another pair of guards stood on the outside, making sure no one got close. Rial gave him a sad look, but did not even open his mouth, as was his duty at the moment, but Victor wished he would say something nonetheless. Anything.

 _I can't avoid looking at him,_ he thought. _He's like this because of me, and I don't even have the decency to look at him?_ He shamefully forced his eyes back on the gasping king, renewing his grip on the sweaty hand that was staining his own red with blood—but Victor didn't let go, even when the physician offered to clean it. _I'm sorry, Father...but I did this for Lumina—your kingdom, the people you love...did you not see that what you were doing to them? I tried to warn you, but you wouldn't listen. I had to do this. I did it for Lumina, for you, for...for Mother. If...if you had truly listened to me, you would have seen it to be true._ He sobbed again as his father gave another heave and a low groan went through his entire being.

"Please," he said quietly to the female physician. "Isn't there anything you can do to ease his suffering?"

"I am afraid not, your majesty," said the elder physician—an old man with the bushiest beard Victor had ever seen. "We have tried everything, but this damn toxin destroys every single anaesthetic we give him, no matter the amount. The amount we have given your father should have killed him already, but his body continues to fight on." He wiped the king's brow yet again. "Whoever designed this poison was a sadistic individual..." he muttered.

The female physician looked bothered. "His suffering is immense," she said. "And his death is an inevitable fact. Can't we...speed up the process?" She didn't look at Victor as she said it, keeping her eyes fixed on her hands.

Her teacher hmph-ed. "I shall ignore that little breach of ethics," he said. "Euthanasia is a serious matter, and should not be discussed lightly. The king has never been supportive of it. Besides, the only way it could even be semi-ethical if we did it would be via giving the individual an overdose of anaesthesia...but we have already established that it does not work, and we'd need his expressed consent." He too kept his eyes off the prince as he talked, as if he thought that looking at Victor while speaking about it would enrage him.

"What about my consent?" Victor asked, shame burning on his cheeks. "If I authorised you..."

"Your majesty," the physician began, "your sympathy to the king's plight is heart-warming, but you should not be making such decisions at this ti—"

"Then when _should_ I be making them?" Victor asked, raising his voice. He heard the clink of armour behind him, which signified that Rial and the other guard had just stiffened and were prepared to be by his side at any moment. " _After_ he has passed on, when such decisions are too late and my father has suffered more pain than any other man should?"

"Your majesty—"

"No!" Victor shouted, anger, frustration and grief overtaking him. "My father is in pain, and I demand that you ease it!"

"Victor!" Rial said loudly, causing the prince to snap his mouth shut and look down at the king's sheets, which were stained red by his continued weeping of blood. The other guard and the physicians gasped at the level of familiarity Rial was displaying, but Victor didn't care—in fact, he appreciated it. He had just lost his temper, which was not proper for a prince. He didn't want Rial to see him like that. "Your majesty," the captain said, correcting himself.

"I apologise," the prince said quietly.

"No, _I_ apologise," the head physician said, bowing his head deeply. "It was not my place to say such things, but please understand that I have taken an oath to preserve whatever life I can, and your father's is no exception."

"Even when we all know he will not survive?" the female physician asked, earning herself a glare from her teacher. She looked back at him with a neutral expression until he sighed.

"Your majesty, if you will it, I shall do my utmost to end your father's suffering by any means necessary...I just hope you will consider it carefully before you give your answer." He stopped dabbing at the king's forehead and went to his bag, where myriads of bottles, instruments and other doodads waited.

"I thought it was a doctor's duty to _ease_ pain," Victor said, looking at the man. "Won't you please ease his?"

"I will, your majesty," the physician said, picking out a syringe and a few translucent bottles. With expert hands he deftly mixed several of the liquids together and filled the syringe. "It has been years since I have used this concoction," he said to Victor, showing him the contents. "It will stop his heart within minutes, ensuring death a few minutes later. Normally, this causes much pain, but your father is all but gone, and this will simply...shut down his body. With your permission, your majesty, I shall administer it. If wish to say one last goodbye..."

He left the sentence hanging, but Victor rose from his chair and stood over his father, waiting for the physicians to go to the other side of the room to give him space and peace. He leant down to the whisper into the king's ear: "I'm sorry, Father. Please forgive me. I love you. May the Enlightened One watch over your journey." He then kissed Robar's forehead and stood up straight, nodding for the physicians to come back. With another nod from him, the contents of the syringe were administered.

Victor held his father's hand as the head physician held his fingers to his throat. "His heart has stopped," he informed Victor. "It will only take another few minutes." They waited in silence, Victor's heart beating like mad, until the king gave a little sigh and lower jaw fell slightly. "He has passed on," the physician said.

Victor's tears began flowing anew and he sobbed heavily—but he knew he had made the right decision. Robar's suffering was over.

"The king is dead," the physician said, looking at Rial and the other guard. Rial nodded and gave the other guard a signal. The guard left the room, but Rial remained. The physician put a hand on Victor's shoulder. "I am sorry, your majesty."

"I'd like to be alone with him," Victor said, eyes downcast.

"Of course."

The physicians left the room, and Rial made to leave as well.

"Please stay, Rial..."

The captain came to stand beside his prince as they looked at the late king's body. His eyes were closed, and he finally looked at peace. They stood in silence, waiting for what was to come. The guard who had left was almost certainly climbing the stairs to the highest balcony of the castle right now, where a speaking trumpet waited. It was five in the morning, and most people had either still not gone to bed or were waking up. Everyone would hear. Rial was surprised to feel the prince's fingers intertwining with his, holding on tightly. The captain looked at his prince and saw that Victor was looking up at him, eyes pleading for...something.

And then they heard it. A tinny and metallic, but loud voice shouting:

" _The king is dead. Long live the king! The king is dead, long live the king!"_

Rial expected it and embraced Victor tightly as the prince threw himself into his arms, howling in anguish and pain so intense that the captain felt like he'd been stabbed in the heart. And he held his prince until the sobs and shaking stopped, at which point he realised that Victor had fallen asleep standing. Frowning sadly, he gently hooked his arm under Victor's knees and carefully lifted him up. He carried Victor through the castle to his chambers, at which point several servants took over the job of taking the prince to bed. Rial, however, remained outside his door, intent on guarding his prince—no, _king_ —until his very last breath.

He had been standing there for a few minutes when Rehm came walking down the hall, looking dreadful. His face was weighed down by sorrow and anger. He nodded politely to Rial. "Captain," he said.

"Councillor," Rial replied, inclining his head in return.

"We heard the news in the ballroom," the councillor said, leaning against the opposite wall, looking every bit his age—which Rial wasn't entirely sure what was, but it was definitely something approaching the classification of 'ancient'—and like he was about to fall asleep standing. "I've sent the guests away. How is he?"

"Sleeping," Rial answered. "He never once took his attention off his father."

"Devoted boy," said Rehm and smiled sadly. He cracked his knuckles, a sound which sent shivers down Rial's spine. He _hated_ that sound! "Must begin work on the coronation ceremony tomorrow...er...today," he continued, correcting himself. "We must have a king as soon as possible."

"The burden is too soon," Rial said to himself, but Rehm heard him and shot him a look. "He's too young," the captain clarified.

"Might I remind you, captain, that Robar's great-grandfather was but ten years of age when he took to the throne?" Rehm said, not sounding entirely disapproving, but not approving either.

"And he almost lost the kingdom to his own people at fifteen," Rial said diplomatically.

"The princ—king is an adult, captain, and you'd do well to remember that," said Rehm and huffed. "He is more than ready to take up his father's mantle and set things straight. Excuse me, captain." The old man pushed away from the wall and began to head in the direction of his chambers.

"Unless it's already too late," Rial muttered to himself. He paused as he remembered something and half-whispered, half-spoke after the councillor: "What about the prisoner?"

"He is safely locked up," Rehm answered. "The king may decide what to do with him." And then he was gone.

Rial gritted his teeth. They had the king's murderer down in the dungeons and weren't preparing a public execution yet? Ridiculous! As if Victor would let his father's killer go free, diplomacy be damned! He touched the handle of his sword, wondering if he should have struck the assassin down the second it became apparent that he was responsible. But no, apparently he had poisoned himself to ease the suspicion off himself, and killing an already downed opponent was a big no-no, even for Rial. But still...surely there were exceptions for regicides?

"I hate politics," Rial muttered to himself, shifting his weight in order to get comfortable for a long shift.

* * *

Link, Sheik and Jeryd were inside the storage room, currently trying to pry open the heavy grate that would lead them down to the sewers. It was huge, and between the three of them they were only barely able to lift it in order to slip a broken crate between it and the hole in the floor. They took a quick breather before renewing their efforts and finally managed to open the damn thing. It slammed loudly against the floor, making them all wince as just about every guard in the entire dungeon would have heard it—had it not been for the fact that they were all gone.

 _It appears my mysterious old "friend" has been busy,_ Sheik thought as they blocked the door behind them just in case anyone happened by. Then, just as they began to climb into the hole, Jeryd stiffened as a voice spoke all around them.

" _The king is dead, long live the King! The king is dead, long live the king!"_

"Hm...that's strange," Jeryd said.

"What is?" Sheik asked.

"I was under the impression that the king passed away hours ago," the human said. "Councillor Rehm spoke about him in the past tense, and everyone was acting mournful. I was wondering why they didn't announce his passing, but I assumed that they were simply waiting until people sobered up in the morning."

They climbed down the small ladder and found themselves standing in a small passage with a gutter in the floor than ran along a short corridor which opened into a larger room ahead. There was a foul smell down there, proving to them that they'd gone the right way.

"I guess he didn't die before now, then," Link said.

"But the poison should have killed him instantly, shouldn't it?" Jeryd directed this question at Sheik, who shook his head.

"Red Viper doesn't work that way," the Sheikah said as he let his fingers probe around the floor, trying to find what he had been promised...there it was! A map, a candle and some matchsticks. He stood up and began fiddling with the matches. "It's more of a shock-and-awe-type of poison."

"Meaning?" Jeryd asked.

"Meaning you have not researched it well enough," Sheik said, handing the candle and map to Link. He struck a match and lit the candle, illuminating his companions' faces. "Red Viper takes its name from its effects. Viper because it spreads through the victim's nervous system almost instantaneously the moment it is introduced to a mucus membrane. Red because it makes the victim bleed from every orifice and, eventually, their skin pores. It is not, however, called Red Viper because it kills quickly." He took the map from Link, who was staring at him—which he ignored—and began to look it over. "My ancestors created it for whenever Hyrule needed to prove a point to someone. A few drops in an enemy kingdom's monarch's drink...and we prove that we are not afraid to make people suffer. It is a slow and agonising death, designed to make even the bravest of rulers cry out like children. Here, I think this is the grate we climbed down." He pointed to a point on the map where a red dot had been drawn.

"I believe you are right," Jeryd said concurring, apparently ignoring everything Sheik had just said about the Red Viper poison. "If we take a right and keep following this tunnel here...we should hit the main sewers which will take us all the way to the gate. Huh, I didn't know the public sewers connected to the ones under the castle...someone should inform the guards so they aren't surprised on another occasion."

"Did you ever use it?" Link asked, still staring at Sheik.

"Pardon?" The Sheikah said.

"Did you ever use that...that poison on anyone?" the Hero clarified.

Sheik looked at Link for a few seconds, and said, "No, I did not. Zelda never asked me to, and I did not have any immediate plans for it. The princess would never ask me anyway—she is not a supporter of killing via toxins."

"But would you have?"

"Perhaps. If you had not shown up when you did and caused so much havoc in such a short amount of time...then perhaps I would have taken the initiative and fed some Red Viper to the Legion commanders and, if I were lucky enough to get close, Ganondorf himself." Sheik shook his head. "Can we place save such questions for when we are not standing around in excrement? I'd rather not have this stench imprinted in my very being."

They were about to follow the small path to the main sewers when Jeryd suddenly blocked Sheik's way with his arm. "You're not going in there with that, are you?" he asked, pointing at the candle. "Do you want to ignite the gas and blow us all sky high?"

"Do _you_ want us to stumble around in there completely blind?" Link countered.

"He's right, Link," Sheik said, blowing out the flame. "We can't take that chance. We don't want to blow up the castle by accident, after all. We've caused enough trouble as it is." The last was said with a small, wry smile on his face. "Besides, I can see well enough in the dark to guide you. Come on, let's go."

And so they went in what could only be called a humorous procession. The sewers smelled like...well, sewers—it was a very distinctive smell, and it was very warm. Sweat ran down their faces and made them even more uncomfortable than they already were. Sheik was in the front, leading them along the narrow ledge that kept their feet from touching the vile water in the river that flowed down the circular tubes. Link was holding on to Sheik's shoulder and Jeryd was holding on to Link's—both of them gripping tightly for fear of both getting lost down there and of stepping into...leavings. Sheik followed the directions of the map that he had memorised to the best of his ability, hoping that he wasn't wrong whenever they reached an intersection or corner. He had difficulty seeing where he was going—everything appeared as faint outlines in the darkness—but at least he could see _something_ , unlike his companions who were blind as bats at the moment.

"Oh, man," Link said, "I think I just stepped in something..."

"I believe we all have," Jeryd chimed in, sounding none too happy about it. "Your beneficiary assassin could surely have found a better way."

"Perhaps they found it amusing," Sheik said, not really in the mood for complaints. "Perhaps they are watching us right now, enjoying the sight of three grown men clinging to each other for fear of stepping into something unsavoury."

"Grown men?" Jeryd asked with a snort. "More like _one_ grown man and two kids."

"Hey!" Link protested. "I'm an adult. I'm eighteen!"

"Fine, I take it back. Two grown men and a kid."

"And yet, you two— the adult and fully grown men—are the ones clinging to _me_ , the kid," Sheik pointed out with a smug grin on his face.

There was silence. And then two voices spoke at the same time:

"Shut up!"

* * *

The fire burned in the middle of the chamber. The sole occupant sat on the stone throne and stared into the flames, as if he was expecting some sort of epiphany to come upon him. The grate in the floor with the long-dried blood stains was open, its gaping black maw threatening to swallow anyone who even thought of stepping near it. The throne's occupant's eyes shifted from the fire to the hole as the tiniest of noises issued from it. He didn't move much; only shifted his fingers so that they were gripping a small dagger he had tucked into his belt. He adjusted his hood to make sure that his face was completely covered, just in time for when a hand appeared and found purchase around the edge of the hole and another hooded person pulled themselves out.

"Yes, yes, don't help me or anything, I'm just fine," the newcomer said, her voice laced with annoyance. "Didn't just slog through a disgusting sewer filled with shit or anything." She rose to her feet and looked at the man on the throne, meeting his eyes. She was always surprised at the sorrow that filled his orbs whenever he let her look at them. "Have you been sitting here the entire time?" she asked incredulously.

"It is rare for me to be afforded such a noble seat," K said, relaxing his grip on his dagger. "I thought I would take advantage of the situation while I still could. Is it done?"

She sighed and nodded. "Yeah, he's on his way out right now along with some...friends, apparently."

"The Hero of Time?"

"Yes, as well as that little bureaucratic snob that hung around him at the party."

"Ise's assistant."

"Yes."

"Interesting. It appears that the earl is more diplomatic than I remember him to be. Then again, it has been a while..."

He studied the woman, noting that her outfit had no sign of having trekked through a sewer anywhere on it. She was wearing almost the exact same outfit as he, except that she wore a dark leather bodice over her shirt. Not for comfort—one would be naïve to believe that. K knew that she was hiding more than a few weapons and tools in it. A sheathed, thin long sword hung on her back, though it was rarely used.

"Why did you have me go get him out?" she asked, tolerating his gaze on her. "I mean, I don't think I did a very good job of disguising my voice...and it would have been more effective if you'd gone yourself."

"You know I cannot do that," K said sharply, returning his gaze to the fire. "The less contact he and I have, the better."

"You don't want to see him or talk to him, I get it," the female assassin said as she crouched by the fire and pulled off her gloves and began to warm her hands, rubbing them together appreciatively. "Then why not just leave him alone? He'd find a way out on his own, like you said."

"I could not leave that to chance," K replied. "He was the perfect scapegoat, but I could not let him rot in jail here. I owe him at least that."

"Geez..." she said, shaking her head. "You're weird."

"You already knew that when we teamed up."

"It was interesting at the time, but now..."

"You are free to leave if you wish," K said and pointed at the door. "But know that if you do, you are forfeiting the fee for this contract. Also, I will be forced to kill you."

"Don't worry about that," she said, her white teeth glinting in the firelight as she grinned. "Can't pass up all that money. I'm just wondering if you're going to let this...thing of yours be a hindrance for the rest of the contract?"

"The contract ends tonight, it will not be a hindrance," said K. "There is only one more loose end to tie up, and you know where to find him."

"The merchant, right?" she asked.

"Correct," K said. "If you can, do try to retrieve the money I paid him to slip the phial into the earl's pocket. I'd like my investment back."

"Still don't see why you can't do it yourself," the woman muttered, regretting it when K grinned. She never saw much of his face, but she knew that his scarred cheek was currently being stretched taut.

"Because I am the brains here," he said. "And because I had to do the difficult part of preparing the poison and ensuring that the king drank it. Do you have any idea how difficult it is to find the ingredients for Red Viper in this kingdom?"

"No, I don't, because you won't tell me what they are," she said, annoyed.

"You've seen its effects. Do you really wish to know how to make such a horrible thing?"

"It...I...hmph!" She pulled her gloves back on and adjusted her hidden weapons and sword. "Right, I suppose I'd better be off. You will be here when I get back?"

"Of course."

"Answer one question, though..."

"Shoot."

"Why are you helping him? You said it yourself that you hate everything he stands for, and you're not doing yourself any favours by helping him escape against our employer's wishes. It doesn't really make sense..."

"Those reasons are my own. You know better than to ask."

"Right, right," she said and opened the door, deciding not to go back through the sewers. She didn't want to run into the earl and his friends. "I'll be back in an hour, I guess."

"Good. And E?"

"Yes, K?"

"Be careful."

She flashed him a smile. "Always am." She closed the door silently behind her, leaving K alone.

He sat there for a while, a million thoughts flying through his head as he tried to make sense of the amount of coincidences that had led him to this exact place at this exact time.

"Fate has a cruel sense of humour," he whispered.

* * *

"I think this is it," Sheik said, looking at the barely visible metal ladder in the sewer wall. It was coated in some sort of hideous slime that, had this been any other time, he'd been doing his best to avoid like the plague.

"Are you sure?" Link asked.

"If the map I was given is correct, then yes." He glanced at Jeryd. _And if I've actually remembered the directions correctly,_ he added to himself. He put a food on a rung and prepared to climb up, but Jeryd's hand stopped him.

"I'm familiar with the city; I'll go first and see if it's the right place." Sheik nodded and stepped aside and let the human climb the ladder. Jeryd opened the manhole cover with a grunt. The skies were overcast, but the ambient light of the city still streamed into the manhole around Jeryd and illuminated Sheik and Link, who noticed with distaste that their clothes were full of stains of the same slime that covered the ladder.

 _I probably shouldn't have let him go first,_ Sheik thought as he stared up at Jeryd's feet. _He might be part of a trap..._

"This is it," Jeryd whispered down to them. "Hurry, before any guards come around."

Sheik was about to climb the ladder (again), but he spotted something further down the sewer tunnel and instantly grimaced. "You first," he told Link and waited until the Hero was about halfway up the ladder before grabbing the rungs himself, glaring at the twin pair of red eyes that were peering at him from the darkness.

 _Really? This again?_ he thought. _Come up with something new, why don't you?_

The street above was completely empty. It was one of the side alleys close to the big square just beyond the city gates. They quickly made their way to the wall and observed the massive doors that were barring their way to freedom. Dozens of guards were patrolling in front of it, making any attempt at approaching it unseen from the front impossible.

"What do we do now?" Sheik asked. "As I recall, the security here is pretty strict. I suppose I could climb—"

"Don't worry, I have a plan," said Jeryd, smiling as he withdrew something from his pockets. It was a document folder. "Remember when I told you that you had to leave the city?" he asked Link, who nodded. "Well, they're still valid. If you follow me and keep quiet, we should be able to get out of the city with little to no trouble. My lord, you can be my assistant in ejecting the disgraceful Hero of Time from the city, and we will follow him for a while to make sure he really leaves."

 _An assistant's assistant?_ Sheik wondered.

"There's a tiny flaw with that plan, though," Link said, looking pointedly at their clothes. "You don't think they'll notice that we just crawled out of a sewer?" He grunted. "Honestly, sometimes I feel like I have to pay attention to all the details myself."

Sheik had to bite back a sarcastic comment that came to his lips so fast that he was afraid his teeth would have been knocked out if they'd been in the way. Instead, he looked back at the gates, wondering why every city like this had to have such impossibly huge doors.

"Hm, well, I suppose there's a fountain around here that we can use to take the edge off," Jeryd said, looking around. "Follow me."

They walked around for a few minutes until they found a small well tucked away among some apartment buildings which they used to wash the worst slag and smell out of their clothes. Sheik noticed a few things as he wrung the cold water out of his shirt. One: that Jeryd was doing his utmost to avoid looking at him. Two: that Jeryd had a surprisingly muscular body for someone with his occupation—his robes hid most of him beneath an impenetrable wall of cloth. Link, on the other hand, was unable to take his eyes off Sheik, but he had a feeling that was because the bruises he'd gotten from the torture master were now completely visible. The Hero smouldered. Sheik gave him a small smile, hoping that he would understand that he was okay.

"Right," Jeryd said as they approached the gates with what they hoped were confident strides. "Remember, my lord, to keep the hood over your head so they cannot see who you are. And you, my lord, should be acting...put out, more or less."

"Kind of like I want to kick your ass or something because you're kicking me out?" asked Link a little too eagerly for Sheik's liking.

"Yes, something like that," Jeryd said. He nodded politely to a few guards and knocked on the small door to the gatehouse. An annoyed-looking guard opened it, looking at them critically before wrinkling his nose in distaste. They hadn't been able to remove even half of the smell that permeated their clothes by now.

"Yeah?" the guard demanded.

"We're to escort this man out of the city and ensure that he does not return," Jeryd said, showing the guard the papers. The guard took them and, after studying them critically against the torchlight for a minute, grunted and nodded as he opened the door fully to let them through. "Thank you," Jeryd said, winking at Sheik. The guard hadn't even asked who Sheik was. The second they were outside the walls and a small distance away from the guards there, the human turned around and grinned. "See? You only have to act like you actually _are_ speaking the truth...which, technically, I just did, but still!"

They ran to the stables, which were unguarded at this time of day. A stable boy was sitting against the outer wall, sleeping soundly. They carefully tiptoed around him and snuck inside the stable by way of the side door, where they found Link and Sheik's packs lying in a pile of hay close to the boxes. Link retrieved his sword, relieved that it had not been touched.

That was when it happened.

Bells began to ring on the other side of the walls and voices shouted in alarm. Explosions issued from the metal tubes at the top of the walls, lighting up the facades with momentary blasts of light.

"Damn, I guess your escape has finally been noticed," Jeryd said as the amount of guards at the gates suddenly doubled as the garrison began to empty. "Hurry, there's no time to saddle up!" Link and Sheik slung their packs on their backs and opened the boxes containing Epona, Maladict and Shun. The horses obediently shuffled outside, apparently noticing their riders' distress.

"Oh, no," Sheik said to himself as he remembered what it was like riding Maladict bareback. He hadn't been able to walk for a walk after last time. Maladict shot him a look that told him that he remembered that event too—and if horses could grin, Maladict would be doing it. "Don't you dare," Sheik warned him. His muscles screamed in protest as he jumped up and hoised himself onto Maladict's back, realising that he had absolutely nothing but his with which to hold on, not even a halter.

"Come on, you don't have much time," Jeryd said, opening the big sliding doors. Some sort of lock was in place, unfortunately, and the loud, metallic screech could be heard for at least a mile around. And it woke up the stable boy.

"Horse thieves!" he shrieked, picking up a pitchfork and throwing himself at Jeryd. Jeryd sidestepped the first attack, raising his hands in a peaceful manner.

"No, no, you don't understand," he tried to explain, "these horses belong to them." He pointed to Link and Sheik.

"Thieves!" the boy—man, more like, he was at least five years older than Jeryd—shouted and attacked again, drawing the attention of a group of guards who were patrolling close by. They turned and began to run towards the stables.

"Attack me again and I'll be forced to take action!" Jeryd exclaimed, sidestepping another clumsy strike. When the man attacked again he sighed and drew his dagger with lightning speed and smashed it into the back of the man's head, knocking him unconscious. "Hurry up," he told the two. "Go now!"

"What about you?" the Hero said.

"I'll be fine," Jeryd answered. "I can make up something!"

"Make up a reason for helping us escape? Don't be foolish," Sheik said, surprising himself. He hadn't intended to get involved. If Jeryd wanted to stay, he could stay...or, that's what he had meant to say, anyway. But something about the way he had so swiftly taken out the stable boy had...intrigued him. He was now absolutely convinced that Jeryd was more than what he claimed to be.

"Then what are you suggesting?" Jeryd demanded, casting nervous glances at the guards, who were coming closer and closer.

Link and Sheik shared a look, and the Hero brought Epona close and held out a hand to the human. "Get on, you're coming with us."

"I can't—"

"Get on now or I'll make you!"

There was no arguing against the Hero, and Jeryd silently took Link's hand and was hoisted onto Epona's back, whereupon he wrapped his arms firmly around Link's middle, holding on tightly.

"Are you _afraid_ of horses?" Link asked incredulously.

"I don't mind them when I'm not _on_ them," the human said.

 _Unbelievable,_ Sheik thought. He leaned in close to Maladict's ear and said quietly, "Try to pull that thing you did last time, and I'll make you suffer, understand?" Maladict snorted.

They set off, barely getting away before the guards descended upon the stables, keeping away from the cobbled highway to minimise the sound of their mounts. Maladict and Epona definitely understood what was going on and made sure that Shun didn't veer away like she was prone to do (usually due to boredom) and kept her close.

Sheik already regretted not putting a saddle on Maladict, wondering if he would ever be able to walk again after this.

The locales they had seen just hours ago flew past as they shot down the road, desperate to put as much distance between themselves and city as physically impossible.

"We should get off the road!" Link shouted to Sheik, barely able to make himself heard over the wind that rushed past their ears. "We're too easy to follow like this!"

"You're right," Sheik agreed. "Up there, at the crossing!"

A heavily forested path went alongside the road for a while before bending to the west and climbing up a steep hill which continued seemingly endlessly. Any ambient light was quickly swallowed up by the trees around them, and they were only making the sharp twists and turns of the road thanks to their steeds' sharp reflexes and reactions as well as Sheik's shouts of where to shift their weights. High above them, the first claps of thunder rolled across the skies and a torrential downpour which not even the thick canopies above them could block out began, further cementing Sheik's belief that this was his worst night in months. Within minutes they were all shivering thanks to the combination of icy wind blowing by and the rain.

"Stop! Please stop!"

Jeryd looked miserable as they came to a standstill in the middle of the forest. The path was turning into mush, and Sheik had no idea where they were. They could have been going in a circle back to the castle for all he knew.

"What's wrong?" Link asked, looking back at the human.

"Just...what's your plan, exactly?" he asked.

"I don't think we've got one," the Hero said, shrugging and looking at Sheik (or in Sheik's general direction). "Do we?"

"Head for the closest border and get out of the kingdom as fast as humanely possible?" Sheik suggested, rubbing his arms as he tried to get the warmth back in them. "That's all I can think of at the moment."

"I like that plan," Link said, nodding. "How about you, Jeryd?"

"Oh, what have I done?" the human said. "I just wanted to help you...and now I've gone and made myself a traitor!" The sentence was accompanied by a flash of lightning and another roll of thunder, making it sound more dramatic than it really was.

 _This is hardly the proper time for a breakdown,_ Sheik thought. "Listen, we do not have time for regrets right now. Jeryd, come with us to the border, and we can help you figure out what to do then, alright?" He really wanted to move on. Something about this particular piece of road didn't sit well with him. It felt like someone was staring at them. And his instincts rarely failed him on occasions such as these. "You obviously knew what you were doing when you agreed to help."

"I didn't know there would be consequences this severe!" Jeryd retorted. "And frankly, if there's one thing I wish I'd never done, it was to mee—"

"Get down!" Sheik threw himself off Maladict's back and pushed the other two off Epona's in the process, sending all three crashing to the muddy ground. He had _heard_ the crossbow bolt whip past his ear, having passed through the spot where Jeryd's head had been. Several more flurrying sounds could be heard as several more bolts flew above their heads, spooking the horses. Epona reared up and whinnied loudly, taking off along the path, soon followed by Maladict and Shun.

"The horses!" Link shouted.

 _It takes more than that to scare them,_ Sheik thought, as he dragged the other two to their feet. _Something is out there along with the crossbowmen._ "Come on, move! Move or you'll be cut down!"

The attackers were firing from one side of the path, leaving them with the only option of running in the opposite direction, into the forest.

"Where the hell did they come from?" Jeryd shouted.

"I don't know, but I'm sure as hell not staying to find out!" Link answered, almost running into a tree trunk.

"Less talk, more running!" Sheik yelled, looking behind them. The crossbows had stopped firing, but he could definitely hear men and women shouting over the din of the stormy weather.

They jumped over rocks, skidded across wet stumps, stumbled over roots, got whipped in the face by branches and were generally being slowly demolished by the forest around them as they tried to get away from their attackers. Every now and then Sheik heard a bolt whipping past and embedding itself into a tree ahead of them with a loud _**TWANG!**_

Then Link suddenly did something unexpected. Sheik saw him draw the Master Sword from his pack and turn around to face the attackers' direction. Sheik stopped and gave him a quizzical expression.

"What are you doing?"

"Don't worry," the Hero said, gritting his teeth. "I'm just going to make it a little harder for 'em to follow us. Keep going!" He pushed Sheik away and took a few steps forwards, holding the sword in both hands, the blade pointing behind him. He bent his knees, and Sheik felt the energy that began to surround his blade, and he understood what the Hero was doing. "Go! I don't want to cut you by accident!"

Sheik nodded and continued running, quickly catching up with Jeryd, who had slowed down to wait for them.

"What's he doing?"

"Just making it difficult for our attackers!"

There was a sudden burst of light from behind them followed by Link's war cry and the sound of metal cutting through wood and falling trees.

"He knows magic?" Jeryd asked.

"Of course he does, he's the Goddesses' chosen one," Sheik said. "Keep running."

Link was cutting down trees behind them in order to make it difficult for their pursuers to catch up with them...which Sheik knew was a big deal since the Hero loved nature more than anything—with the possible exception of Sheik, but that was a close race—and Sheik knew that it wasn't just in anger that Link was screaming, but sorrow and regret as well.

Sheik and Jeryd suddenly ran out of forest, emerging onto a flat, grassy plain. They continued running straight ahead, and they would have gone straight off the edge of the cliff if Sheik hadn't seen it and grabbed Jeryd's robes and pulled him to a rough stop, mere steps away. Over thirty feet below, a surging river raged, its foamy waters reminding Sheik of the river that had almost taken him in the mountains of Hyrule.

"Ah, shit! What do we do now?" Jeryd yelled.

"We can't turn back," Sheik said. While he couldn't get a definite feel, he knew that there were over a dozen pursuers after them. In the dark and in their condition, there was no way they'd be able to fight the attackers off—and if they let themselves be captured, chances were that they wouldn't be given an opportunity to escape again. He looked at the river again. The water had turned an ugly brown because of the mud that was being washed into it further up the bed.

_Stay here and either get cut down by crossbow bolts, or take our chances in the muddy river? Bolts or river? Death or just possible death?_

"We have to jump!"

"What? Are you insane?"

"You're welcome to stay here, but I'm jumping, and the Hero will do the same!" Sheik glared at the tree line, wishing Link would appear. His prayers were answered seconds later as the Hero came rushing out from the thicket, eyes searching for the others. "Link, we have to jump!" Sheik shouted.

"Got it!" he answered. "I—ah!"

Sheik was too slow to notice the metallic sheen that trailed Link's leg. The Hero's face contorted in pain as the crossbow bolt buried itself in his left calf and brought him to the ground. Lightning struck a point not far away. Link's scream reached the two by the cliff half a second later, barely audible over the loud thunderclap that followed the lightning. Sheik was about to dash to Link's side when Jeryd gave a surprised shout and Sheik felt something slamming into his stomach. He looked down and saw the end of another bolt sticking out from his shirt, a red stain quickly spreading where his flesh had been pierced.

"Sheik!" Link's eyes met his, and Sheik felt his knees starting to give out. Another bolt struck his shoulder, hitting him with such force that it spun him around, over the edge of the cliff. His vision tumbling, the last thing he saw was Jeryd's outstretched hand trying to grab him. Then he struck the cliff side, and his world went dark, only briefly feeling the icy waters of the surging river closing over him before he lost consciousness completely.

* * *

**Soul Remnants  
Chapter 12**

* * *

When Victor woke up at noon the day following his father's death, he felt empty. It was like a piece of him had been torn away and scattered in the winds, drifting away forever. And he knew exactly why he felt this way. He felt tears welling up in his eyes again, but he blinked them away angrily, reminding himself: _You did this, you fool! It's your fault! Stop crying and take the damn responsibility!_ He shook his head. He couldn't take the responsibility no matter how much he wanted to, for that would mean that the very reason he had killed his father had been for naught. The nobles would rebel and the people would rally behind them and civil war would be a fact. That's the last thing Lumina needed right now—another war that proved devastating to its infrastructure.

He felt awful as he slid out of bed and headed straight for the washbasin in the corner of the room, behind the changing screen. A fresh dress uniform had been laid out for him in addition to heated water, and a note lay on top of the folded clothes. He picked it up and read it, Rehm's elegant handwriting scrawled across the paper.

_**Your Majesty,** _

_**As per my duties, preparations for the coronation ceremony have already begun with an estimated completion time of this evening at the latest. I suggest holding the ceremony no later than tomorrow afternoon as this is a time in which you need to consolidate your power and reassure the people that there is indeed one of royal blood on the throne.** _

_**Humbly yours,  
Councillor Rehm** _

Victor frowned. Rehm certainly didn't seem to have any trouble with one of his oldest friends' death. Not that the prin—king was surprised. Rehm had been the brain behind the entire plot, after all...but he'd had only good intentions. But then again, there was that old saying about the road to hell being cobbled with good intentions or something like that.

Someone knocked on the door. "Wait a minute," Victor said and quickly finished washing and dressing. He didn't have time to wash his hair, which he decided looked awful after taking a quick glance at his reflection in the large mirror hanging over the basin. That would have to wait, however, as the knocking sounded again, much more intense this time. "Enter," he said, annoyed. Wasn't he allowed to grieve in peace?

Rial entered quickly and, after inspecting the hallway he'd just left, closed the door quickly. When he turned around, it was difficult for Victor to bite back the gasp that quickly rose to his lips. Rial looked awful, like he hadn't slept in days. His eyes had heavy bags under them, and he looked ready to collapse at any second.

"Your Majesty," he said, saluting.

"Rial, for goodness' sake, sit down," Victor ordered him, pointing him to the chair by the desk. The captain looked ready to protest, but Victor glared at him until he did as he was told, probably feeling sheepish all the time. "You look horrible," he said.

"I apologise, Your Majesty," Rial said, looking at the floor. "It comes with not being able to sleep for over twenty-four hours."

"Why on earth haven't you, then?"

"I was standing guard outside your door, Your Majesty."

Shame hit Victor like a spear from a skirmisher. "Then why didn't you have someone else do it? Surely there are more than one guard in this castle?"

"I did not feel comfortable with the idea of leaving the task in someone else's hands, Your Maj—"

"'Victor', Rial, my name is 'Victor'!"

"Your Majesty," Rial said, standing up with his eyes hardened. "Now that you are king, it is not proper for one of my stature to address you with such familiarity. It might have been accepted when you were a prince, but now...you are the king." There was an unheard sigh in there, but Victor didn't comment on it, as Rial looked ready to argue with him on it.

"When we're alone, you can," Victor insisted. "In fact, as your king, I order you to call me Victor when we are in private. Is that understood?"

Rial's face twitched in an annoyed fashion, but he nodded. "Yes, Your Maj—"

"Ah?"

"Victor."

"Thank you." He smiled and patted Rial's shoulder. "Now, since it's quite obvious that if I leave you in that chair for any longer you're going to fall asleep, I think it's high time that you went to bed, Rial."

"I don't think—"

"But I do, Rial," Victor said gently. "Your protection wouldn't be very effective if you fell asleep in the middle of a scuffle, would it? Go to bed. That is another order."

Rial nodded in defeat. "Yes, Victor," he said. "I will arrange for a pair of guards to stay with you at all times, however." Upon saying this, his eyes hardened. "It is too dangerous for you to be alone right now. We cannot know if someone will try to attack you as well."

"I understand, Rial," Victor said amicably and smiled. "Now, I don't want to see you again until this evening, understand? And you had better spend that downtime resting properly."

"I understand." He hesitated at the door. "Thank you, Victor."

"You're welcome, Rial," Victor said as the captain left, his armour making a horrible noise as he disappeared. "I look after my own, after all," he whispered to himself as he went over to the windows and pulled aside the curtains, letting in the miserable afternoon light. The sky was covered in grey clouds that looked heavy with rain. The wet stone on the balcony outside told him that it had rained in the morning. Even from here he could see the tail end of _The Chimera_ , having docked at some point during the night. The thing was a bloody eyesore. "I suppose the first thing I have to do as king is to get rid of it," he said to himself. "But how?"

* * *

The walk to the grand hall was spent in uncomfortable silence. Two guards had saluted Victor as he had left his chambers, both swearing fealty to the new king on the spot, which made him feel awkward, as if he was supposed to be acting completely different now that he was the sovereign. But the problem was that he just didn't _feel_ like a true king, a real monarch. True, he hadn't felt all that normal as a prince either, but he figured that had just been because he served no real purpose other than just _being there_ until his father stepped down.

The two guards kept a respectable distance behind him as they walked—not too close as to create an air of familiarity, but not too far away to be able to step in front of the king at a moment's notice and possibly take a blow meant for him. Victor had absolute faith in their ability to protect him—after all, they were Rial's men.

They arrived at the top of the stairs of the grand hall, and Victor sagged slightly as he saw that Rehm truly had not wasted any time in preparing the coronation. An army of servants, contractors, chefs, bakers, decorators and who knew what else was milling about, measuring and discussing excitedly among themselves what to do with the place. Victor sighed quietly to himself and tried to spot Rehm in the crowd. He didn't find him, but he did spot Ise down there, ordering people about and consulting her clipboard every once in a while and quickly made eye contact with her, motioning for her to stay there. He had planned to go down there quietly and have a word with her, but his guards had other plans.

"Make way for the king!" both of them shouted at the same time, their voices booming over the din of the people gathered below.

The silence was instant and complete as every eye in the hall landed upon Victor, who felt like melting and disappearing into cracks in the floor. He had never felt so uncomfortable before, but then he realised that he had to keep up appearances and squared his jaw and tried to confidently march down the stairs—which turned out rather embarrassing as he missed a step and stumbled, nearly falling down the stairs in a display that would surely have been very comedic, but he luckily managed to regain his balance in the nick of time and resumed walking as if it had not happened. And as far as the people in the hall were concerned, it hadn't. They were such good sports about it too, biting their lips to cover their grins or coughing away the laughter that threatened to spill forth from their mouths. Upon reaching the floor of the hall, everyone bowed or curtsied respectfully—no kneeling, that would not be done until he had the crown on his head and taken his place on the throne.

He quickly made his way to Ise, who bowed her head as he approached. "Your Majesty," she greeted. "Please accept my condolences."

"Thank you, councillor," Victor said. "They are very much appreciated."

"It came as a shock to us all." Ise looked around, noticing that everyone was staring at them. "What are you lot staring at? Get back to work!" she yelled, causing an immediate ripple of sudden love of working to go through the crowd as everyone started milling about again, but kept their voices down out of respect. "I apologise, Your Majesty," she said afterwards, "but everyone has been worried and it is simply a relief to see you well."

"And I appreciate that as well," Victor said a bit louder than usual. _Might as well let them know,_ he thought. "Councillor, I was wondering if you have seen Rehm?"

"Rehm left the castle sometime this morning," Ise replied, handing her clipboard to an underling. "He didn't tell me why, but it apparently had something to do with the coronation, and he left me in charge. Is there something I can do for you?" She gave him a weak smile. She hadn't slept much that night either, apparently.

"I was just wondering what was going to happen in the next few days," Victor lied. He had actually intended to have a serious talk with Rehm about what they had done, but if he was gone...

"I'll be happy to brief you, Your Majesty," Ise said.

"Walk with me to the throne room, then." Victor liked Ise. She had always seemed competent, and her demeanour was always business-like and to the point, unlike so many of the other councillors. She only shared this trait with Rehm, but the two were apparently not very close and frequently clashed on multiple subjects.

"I'll be walking with the king for a bit," she told the same underling she had given her clipboard. "Take care of this, yes? And can someone please find Jeryd? I haven't seen him since last night." She then joined Victor as he walked towards the large double-doors on the other side of the grand hall. The chamber beyond was just as large, but long tables had been set up inside in order to give the court a place to sit and eat. Another huge fireplace roared in a corner, providing more than enough heat for the room, which was built in cold stone. A slightly raised platform stood at the very end of the room, and three elaborate chairs were placed on it. The upholstery was a dark red colour and the wood was dark, almost black. The middle chair was slightly higher than the other two, which was only expected. Victor almost sighed upon seeing it, but steeled himself. _No weakness!_

"Missing people, councillor?" Victor asked, distracting himself as they approached the throne.

"My assistant," Ise explained. "Jeryd. Nice young man, though perhaps a bit too obsessed with everything being prim and proper, not to mention his rather...disturbing interest in fashion."

"Is there something wrong with enjoying fashion?"

"Not really, Your Majesty, it's just that Jeryd always takes one step too far when it comes to it. I'm surprised he didn't do something strange with the diplomats' uniforms—"she paused, almost biting her lip.

"Whose uniforms?"

"The...Hyrulian diplomats' uniforms, Your Majesty," Ise said reluctantly.

"Ah," Victor said as they reached the platform. He climbed up and lowered himself into the chair on the left. He would not be able to sit in his father's throne until after the coronation. It was tradition, and who was he to argue with that? "I thought they looked rather interesting. He did a good job."

Ise nodded in relief, probably happy that Victor wasn't going to push the subject.

"So, he's missing, is he?" Victor asked. "I'm sure he'll turn up somewhere. He's probably just collecting himself. Yesterday was...traumatic for everyone involved, I think." He probably shouldn't have started talking about it, but he felt an overwhelming sense of sympathy for the Sheikah he currently had locked up in his dungeons and the Hylian that had been sent away. He would have to release the earl as soon as possible.

"I'm sure you're right, Your Majesty," Ise said, nodding. "Jeryd is sensitive, and I suppose he just needed some time by himself to realise what has happened."

 _Unlike what I got to have,_ Victor thought a little bitterly. "So, what is the schedule for the next few days?" he asked.

"Ah, well, today we are preparing for the coronation, Your Majesty," Ise said, running through a mental list. "Nothing other than that, I think. Tomorrow is the coronation itself, and your father's funeral will be taking place the day after that, and then—"

She was interrupted by another guard who came running up to the throne, her armour clanking loudly. She saluted. "Your...Highness...I...have...an...urgent...message...!" she panted, breathing deeply between each word.

"Please take a moment to catch your breath," Victor said kindly.

"Thank...you...Your...Majesty!" the guard said, sweat pouring down her face. Running around in all that armour was no joke, Victor knew, but Rial always made it seem like he was doing it so effortlessly. After a minute or two, she was finally able to speak normally, only pausing occasionally. "The Sheikah prisoner has escaped, Your Majesty."

Victor felt his heart beating wildly as his blood turned cold. "What?" he asked slowly. He gripped the armrests of his chair tightly, so tightly that his fingertips turned white. As the guard explained what had happened, multiple thoughts went through his head, most of them pertaining to the intense fear that was running through him at that very moment. _Is he angry? Is he coming back to kill me? Is he going to run to Hyrule and have Princess Zelda declare war? I am so screwed..._

* * *

K was sitting on the torture throne when Victor and Rehm entered the chamber. He was looking intently at a jingling leather pouch he had in his right hand, as if he was trying to guess how much money was in there by judging its weight alone. He looked up when Rehm angrily slammed the door shut.

"Concillor Rehm, Your Majesty," he said nodding curtly. "I suppose congratulations are in order for your ascent to the throne—"

"Spare us your fake compliments, assassin!" Rehm bellowed. The councillor had arrived an hour after Victor had been told of the Sheikah's escape, and Rehm had immediately suggested a meeting with K, anger having filled his whole being upon being told.

"Very well," K said. "May I ask, then, why you are here? I was just about to pack up and leave..."

"You are going nowhere," Rehm said, not even allowing Victor get a word in. "And you know fully well why we are here."

K paused, and Victor saw a small grin spread on the assassin's face. "Ah, this would have something to do with the Sheikah's escape, would it?" he asked. "I heard about it. Very...vexatious for you, I am sure."

"We also know that you had something to do with it," Victor said before Rehm exploded again. "There was no way he could have escaped without some sort of outside help. The guards were dead and we have no idea how he got out without being seen."

K chuckled. "And you assume I helped him because...?" he said, waiting for good arguments. When none were forthcoming, he shook his head. "I believe that neither of you have done much research on the Sheikah, then, because if you had you would realise that trying to trap one is nearly impossible. If you ask me, it is very likely that he tricked your guards into opening the door, at which point he eliminated them and escaped. They are very sneaky, Your Majesty." He rose from his seat and put the money pouch in his pocket. "Now, if that was all, it is high time I left this place. The payment is in the location we agreed upon, correct?"

"No," Rehm said.

"Pardon?"

"What?"

K said the first, Victor the latter as both stared at Rehm.

"The job is not complete, assassin," Rehm said. "The Sheikah is not in our custody."

"The job was not to leave him in your custody, as I recall," K said slowly. "You simply hired me to kill your king and blame it on the earl. And so I did, rather admirably in my opinion considering how difficult it is to put something like that in his pocket without him noticing."

Victor expected Rehm to yell again, but to his surprise the old man calmed down and fixed the assassin with a serious gaze. "You will not be paid, assassin, until the Sheikah is back in the dungeon."

"Then I'm afraid that we will simply have to kill your king...again," said a female voice as Victor suddenly felt cold steel at his throat, an arm wrapping around his head to hold him in place. He stiffened in fear, having not even _heard_ her come up to him. She chuckled. "Aw, he's shaking..."

"What is the meaning of this?" Rehm demanded.

K gestured towards the woman. "Gentlemen, this is my...partner, E. Say hello, E."

"Hello," the woman said with mirth in her voice. "Nice to meetcha."

"I...you...what..." Rehm sputtered.

Victor tried to remain calm, which was easier said than done when someone was holding a knife to your throat.

"Did you honestly believe that I could pull off some of the hits I have by myself?" K asked, laughing. "No one could. Besides, it helps to have someone of the fairer gender around to provide perspective on things. Let him go, E."

"Aw," E said, sounding disappointed, but she let Victor go, smacking his rump lightly as he stepped away. "You're such a cutie, too..."

"So, what is this about not being paid?" K asked. "I am warning you, councillor, that we do not take lightly to being tricked like this. You will either pay us the money or never leave this chamber alive." His tone of voice was like ice, clearly showing that he had no problem with going through with his threat.

"It's...it's not what you think," Rehm said, looking quickly between the two assassins. They both had their hoods up, obscuring their faces, but Victor could _feel_ their predatory eyes upon them. No mistake, these two were not to be trifled with. "I am...am simply saying that we would be willing to hire you...you both to bring him back as soon as possible. He can't possibly have left the kingdom yet."

"...that is an interesting offer," K said, making E look at him sharply. "How much would the payment be?"

"Double what we have promised you so far," Rehm said, causing Victor to mirror E.

"That is quadruple the amount we agreed upon at first," K said, clearly entertaining the idea. "Is it truly that important to have him, though? Surely letting him leave will spare you a lot of headaches...not to mention your coffers?"

"We...we have already sent a ransom letter to the princess of Hyrule," Rehm said. "If we do not have anything to bargain with, she will take offense and, most likely, action. She might persuade the other kingdoms to cut off trade routes, perhaps declare war upon us. It is _vital_ that the Sheikah remains with us until the negotiations are through."

K made a humming sound, which reverberated around the chamber. "So...quadruple the money for bringing him back alive? And you guarantee that he will not be hurt?"

"What does him being hurt have to do with anything?" Rehm asked.

"Everything," K said sharply. "And nothing. I simply see no reason to hurt someone when it is not needed. If you are going to use him as a bargaining chip, then surely it is in your interest for him to appear unharmed before his princess, yes?"

"I...suppose so," Victor said, not really understanding what was going on?

"Then it is settled," K said, nodding. "We will find him and bring him back here...but you had better have the money this time, or we will leave both your heads on pikes in the largest square in the city. Do you agree?"

"We agree," Rehm said, not even giving Victor a chance to say anything before he dragged the king out of the chamber, yet again slamming the door shut, leaving the two assassins to stare at each other.

"What the hell was that?" E asked. "I thought you said you wanted the earl to be free and not to bother him anymore. You said it yourself that you didn't want to see him ever again, and now you're going after him?"

"It is hard to say no to such a large amount of money," K said calmly. "And, frankly, this gives me an opportunity to settle a score...even if it is not the best of times."

"What score?" E asked.

"I will reveal it to you in due time, but it is needless to say that he wishes to settle it as much as I do," K answered, fishing out the money pouch and tossing it to her. "Take this," he said, "and go to the assassin's guild in this city. Hire their best trackers and have them search for him and detain him."

"You don't think we can do this by ourselves?" E said, surprised that K was even acknowledging a guild's existence.

"Had we not been working against the clock, I would not have any doubt about our ability," K said honestly, "but if we are to find him before he leaves the kingdom..."

"I...understand," E said.

"Good." A smile grew on K's lips. "It's time for a hunt, then."

* * *

**Soul Remnants  
Chapter 13**

* * *

Sheik's head was buzzing pleasantly as the smell of forest invaded his nostrils and the sounds of thousands of critters and insects filled his ears. He was so utterly comfortable that he did not feel like opening his eyes, the soft grass beneath him far superior to any feather-stuffed mattress he'd ever slept on. He was lying spread-eagled on the forest floor, comfortable in the shade provided by what must surely have been a humongous tree of some kind. He had never felt so content, so relaxed...it was like every worry and problem he had ever faced had simply disappeared, leaving him with a profound sense of freedom and a desire to do simply nothing but bask in the glorious afternoon, comforted by the sense of belonging that filled his very being. At any other time, he would quickly have grown restless and started to do something productive, but for what was quite possibly the first time in his still short life, he wanted to simply...relax. Rest. Become one again with the world he had been forced to forget once the awful war had started, perhaps regain the childhood he had lost...

He made a game out of trying to filter out the different animal noises and guess the species and distance. He knew little of the wildlife here, but surely it could not be all that different from home? He recognised crickets, grasshoppers and squibs, deer and what he could only assume was a wild boar judging by the grunting. Or perhaps a moblin...no, not a moblin, the noise was far too benign and—while not directly friendly—kind-natured for one of the evil pig men... He smiled to himself, realising that he hadn't automatically gone for a weapon when the thought had crossed his mind. So relaxed was he.

He was certain that he could lie here until the end of time unless something happened, and, frankly, he was hoping nothing would. For why should not he deserve some peace of mind for once? Why should not he, who had given up so much, be entitled to some proper time to himself? He half-expected something to happen just then, as if the very thoughts would summon some horrible, eldritch monstrosity with too many legs, eyes and rows upon rows of razor-sharp teeth that would put the fear into anyone, no matter what deity they worshipped. But no such creature appeared.

All was peaceful. All was calming. All was...perfect. Almost _too_ perfect.

He knew it would not last, and his suspicion was confirmed when a white-hot pain shot through his left arm all the way to his fingertips—with the strange exception of his little and ring fingers, which only tingled slightly—and then his right arm and finally his stomach, forcing him to gasp and sit up, clutching his limbs and middle tightly, feeling like they were about to explode. He groaned, clenching his eyes tightly, determined not to let out the pained scream that so desperately wanted to explode from his mouth.

The pain went away as quickly as it had appeared, and he let out a sigh of relief, briefly wondering what it had been. He was about to lie back down when he realised that the forest had gone eerily quiet, the sounds of life around him abruptly cut short, like someone had simply flipped a switch and effectively silenced the world. Warily, he opened his eyes and, upon realising where he was, he gasped. No wonder it had felt so familiar.

It was the clearing in the Lost Woods, the one in which a tall tree stump rose proudly from the forest floor, the flat surface upon which the Hero had once claimed to have seen a mysterious being he had described as being named "The Skullkid" had danced and played the flute, dressed in rags and a broad-brimmed hat beneath which only a black space could be seen. But Sheik remembered it as something else. _He_ remembered it as the place that had so often appeared in his dreams right after the fiasco in the Water Temple in Lake Hylia. He felt his heart skip a beat as he gazed at the shorter stump next to the tall one, half expecting _it_ to sit there. But it did not, and he felt relieved. Perhaps it was only a normal dream, then. He _hoped_ it was a normal dream, or else he would be very confused about how he had ended up here.

He stood up, his desire to rest all but vanished after the excruciating episode of pain, realising that he was only wearing a pair of dark blue shorts, the rest of his body exposed to the world at large. Even in the sunlight that shone down upon this oasis in the forest, he felt like he was _supposed_ to shiver, for the Lost Woods was not a welcoming place by any stretch of imagination, neither for the mind nor the body it...and yet, he was so warm, almost sweating. He took a few steps forward, feeling the soft grass under the soles of his feet, relishing in the feeling. It felt wonderful, almost like walking on silk, only much better. He realised now why the Hero did it whenever he could. He deliberately kept his back facing the stumps, not wanting the unsavoury memories of this place to creep into his head.

His arms and stomach felt a degree or two warmer than the rest of his body, which was...strange and alien to his mind. Surely the body was supposed to regulate its own warmth and properly distribute it throughout its systems?

This was a pleasant dream, he decided. Despite the sudden influx of pain, it clearly outweighed any other dream he'd had in the past few months. No panic, no fear...nothing that chased him, nothing that mocked him...and above all, no shadow.

But then a shiver suddenly went through him, the hairs on his neck and forearms standing up. He _felt_ the burning gaze upon him before he even turned around, glaring at the tall stump.

The shadow was sitting on it, its legs dangling slightly in the air, staring intently at him with an amused smile on its lips. It remained silent as Sheik did not move from his spot, folding his arms in annoyance, trying to ignore the slight burning feeling in his limbs and stomach. What was going on with him? Why did the shadow always appear in his dreams? What did it want? _Why was it here?_

" **I distinctly remember a time during which you referred to me as a 'he' rather than an 'it',"** the shadow suddenly said, not moving from its seat. **"Why the sudden animalisation?"** it asked. Its voice still had that faint echo that Sheik knew and hated.

Sheik sighed, wishing he had mastered the art of manipulating his own dreams. If he had, he would be dropping a very heavy object on the shadow at this very moment, preferably an anvil. But since he had no heavy objects lying around and since he had no weapons...perhaps he could talk the nightmare away.

"I think you know the reason for that quite well, shadow," he said bitterly. "But allow me to refresh your memory: you killed me. You stabbed me in the chest with your sword and left me bleeding and dying in the Forest Temple. I didn't survive that night. And then, after I was brought back, you tried to kill me _again_ by severing my soul's connection to Terra's. I'd say that's more than ample reason to hate you and refuse to refer to you as anything but a creature of no inherent value."

The shadow rolled his glowing eyes at this, the perfect mirror of the Hero's face frowning. Sheik hated it. Only Link deserved to have that face. The shadow was simply an imitation, an _attempt_ at being the Hero, failing miserably with its pale skin and ashen grey hair. It even wore a grey version of the Hero's standard outfit, dark copies of the Master Sword and Hylian Shield slung on its back. Everything about it was right but so _wrong_ at the same time!

" **The way you hold on to a grudge is absolutely inspiring,"** it said. **"It's been...how long? Half a year at the least. Surely you can put your death and near-death experiences behind you?"**

"Easier said than done," Sheik said tiredly, wishing the shadow would just go away. How difficult could it be to banish a memory when its corporeal counterpart was long dead? "You don't seem all that torn up about your demise, though..."

The shadow chuckled. **"It is difficult to be distraught about the death of a mere vestigial part of oneself. It would be the same as feeling sorrow for fingernail clippings—they are gone, but you can always grow more."**

Sheik's heart skipped another beat, reminding him that his lifespan had been shortened greatly, even after possessing the Delta Force for quite some time. The Sages had not seen fit to grant him his lost years, much to Link's anger. But the reason for his sudden apprehension was what the shadow had said. "What do you mean 'a part of you'?"

The shadow chuckled again, grinning condescendingly. **"I was certain that your brilliant Sheikah mind would have figured it out by now,"** it said, jumping down from the stump, landing elegantly on the grass. **"But I suppose I have to explain it to you like a child: I did not die in that temple as you so desperately want to believe. At least, not all of me. A substantial part, certainly, but not everything. Not the part that I left inside you when we first parted..."**

"But...but I forced you out!" Sheik protested. "All of you!"

" **Tch...did you honestly believe that you were strong enough to banish me fully?"** it asked in a mocking tone. **"I am the embodiment of everything that the Hero of Time could become if he only embraced the darkness within him. I am just as strong, if not stronger than him. How could** _ **you**_ **possibly hope to rid yourself of me? I tried to make you aware of this fact by appearing to you in Ganondorf's castle, but you blamed it on the Gerudo's defences...you were so foolish."** The shadow stepped forward, smiling.

"Link destroyed you," Sheik said, still keeping his distance as the shadow came ever closer, remembering the apparition that had appeared among the suits of armour as he and Hatra had tried to escape. He wanted to run, just turn around and tear off into the forest, but he had a feeling that the shadow was in control of this particular dream. And that was all it was: a dream. A nightmare—his _worst_ nightmare. The idea of the shadow being back in control was more terrifying than anything because it meant that everything Sheik had gone through since that day in the temple had been for naught, a mere build-up towards the sick and macabre climax that the shadow had surely been planning since day one, since he had first been defeated by Link. "He can do it again."

" **He** _ **may**_ **,"** the shadow admitted, pausing slightly before approaching Sheik, who suddenly found himself with his back to a thick wall of trees that prevented him from backing away any further. **"But the truth of the matter is that as long as** _ **you**_ **are alive, I will continue to return. You see, I have planted a part of myself deep inside you,"** it had reached Sheik by the time it said this, and was now trailing a hand down the Sheikah's naked chest. Sheik growled and slapped it away.

"Don't touch me! And what do you mean you've planted something inside me?"

" **Easy—I have torn away a part of my essence and left it inside you, where it continues to grow until I will once again be able to assume a corporeal form. You will never be rid of me, my pet, and My Light can continue to temporarily banish me as much as he likes, but the fact remains that I will keep coming back. And unlike My Light, I will not age. Sooner or later, he will slip up and I will utterly** _ **annihilate**_ **him...and then you shall be mine** _ **forever**_ **."** He placed his hands on the tree trunks on either side of Sheik's head, trapping the Sheikah. Sheik tried to push the arms away or escape somehow, but the shadow was simply too strong, holding him in place.

" **There is no point in resisting,"** it said, leaning in close enough for its hot breath to whisper over Sheik's lips. **"Give yourself to me like you once did...and I promise that I will never hurt you again. I love you."** It crushed its lips to Sheik's, ignoring the protesting hands that pushed at its chest in a vain attempt to shove him aside, but the second the shadow's lips had touched his own, all strength had been sapped out of his body.

Sheik was panicking. This definitely didn't feel like a dream—it felt too _real_. The sensation of the shadow's body pressing up against his own, its lips against his, the warmth, the faint smell of wet earth... He realised that he couldn't breathe and renewed his effort in pushing it away, but he only felt it grin against his lips and probed at them with its tongue, begging to be let in. But Sheik clamped his jaws and lips shut—this was one thing he would not— _could_ not—tolerate under any circumstances. He despised the shadow and wished for nothing but its swift destruction. But the lack of oxygen was becoming more than apparent as his lungs began to burn slightly, and he was finally forced to open his mouth in an attempt to breathe. The shadow took that opportunity to plunge its tongue into Sheik's mouth, exploring every inch before forcing the Sheikah's own into submission. It was warm and wet...and just like kissing Link, only more...forceful, less gentle. It was so much like being kissed by the Hero, yet so unfamiliar and decidedly not...

Sheik felt his legs give out beneath him, and he collapsed against the shadow, which held him up with its strong arms, still dominating his mouth like it had been waiting for an eternity to do so. His lungs burned and his heart ached, despair seizing him as he realised he was being violated by his most hated enemy...

"Sheik!"

The unfamiliar voice rang out across the clearing, strong and audible. The shadow finally tore himself away from Sheik's mouth, allowing the Sheikah to get precious air back into his body, glaring around him.

"Sheik! Please wake up!"

" **Curse that man!"** it snarled, refocusing its gaze on Sheik, who was still too weak to struggle his way out of its tight embrace. **"I wanted some more time to play with my pet...oh well; I suppose we will have plenty of time to...explore each other later,"** it said, chuckling darkly again as it stared at Sheik's flushed face. **"It is time for you to return to the land of the living,"** it said and lowered Sheik to the ground before it stepped away and slowly began to fade into nothing. **"I will see you the next time you fall asleep, my pet..."**

Sheik's vision became blurry and fatigue quickly overtook him, making him feel like he hadn't slept in weeks, and the pain intensified a hundred times over. He bit back an agonised scream as the clearing disappeared into darkness...

* * *

Sheik's eyes slowly opened, bringing Jeryd's worried face into view. His right cheek had a bandage on it, and his arm was in a sling.

"Jeryd...?" he asked. Or _tried_ to ask, anyhow. His throat was so dry that his question came out as a dry and hoarse croak.

Jeryd smiled and nodded. "Yeah, it's me. We were worried about you...we didn't think you'd wake up, but then you started moaning and tossing in your sleep." He turned slightly on the chair he was sitting in and hollered out the door just behind him. "Hey, he's awake!" Then he turned back to Sheik. "You must be thirsty, here." He held out a cup filled with water. Sheik tried to take it, but groaned when both his arms flared up in pain. He quickly realised that he couldn't move either of them and tried to turn his head to look at them, but even that proved too much of a strain and sent his head spinning. "Here, let me help you," Jeryd said, carefully tipping the cup and letting the water run into Sheik's mouth. He swallowed gratefully, his throat loosening somewhat.

"What happened?" he asked. "Where am I? Why can't I move my arms?"

Jeryd shook his head sadly. "You don't remember?" he asked. "You took a nasty tumble over the cliffs with one crossbow bolt in your shoulder and another in your stomach. You crashed against the stone at least once before you hit the water, after which you nearly drowned, but not before breaking your left arm against the rocks. We think you have a bad concussion too, which probably accounts for the headache you must be having right now."

Sheik stilled, remembering snippets of the event. He remembered getting hit by at least two crossbow bolts, yes, and the tumble off the cliffs, but after that...nothing. His eyes widened when he remembered that Link had been hit too, but remembered that Jeryd had said "they" were worried...if Link was safe, that was a relief. "Link...?" he asked.

Jeryd frowned. "I'm sorry...he was hit in the leg, and I tried to go to help him, but he told me in no uncertain terms what he'd do to me if I didn't jump and help you...there was no point in trying to argue, so I did...but not before getting hit myself." He pointed at the bandage on his cheek. "I sprained my arm quite badly trying to reach you in the river...and I'm sorry, because I know you're not interested in that right now."

"Where...is...Link?" Sheik said slowly.

"He's not here," Jeryd said. "I don't know where he is. He didn't jump into the river after us, so we can only assume that he's either dead or captured. And, I'm sorry to say, that our ambushers were _not_ shooting to incapacitate..."

Sheik clenched his jaw. "Link made it," he said, though whether he did to convince himself or Jeryd, he didn't know. "He's fought his way out of far worse situations before." He said with conviction, finishing with a nod that only served to release another torrent of pain in his head. He groaned again, wishing he could rub his temples, but his arms refused to move.

"I believe you," Jeryd said quietly. "Please, don't try to move too much. Your left arm was absolutely mangled by the rocks in the river, and we believe that you lost quite a bit of muscle in your right shoulder..."

"Who are _we_ , exactly?" Sheik asked, head spinning. He tried to ignore the implication in Jeryd's words, that his right arm would be more or less useless if too much muscle tissue had been lost. Hopefully, _they_ were wrong. He definitely hoped that _he_ was right about Link. There was no way Link would let himself get killed by something as simple as a roadside ambush. No, Sheik could only imagine Link dying either peacefully of old age in bed or in battle against some horrid, world-threatening beast, taking it with him to his death.

It was so difficult to make sense of the situation when he couldn't even get the room to stay still. It seemed to rotate, and if he kept his eye on one spot for too long he started to feel dizzy and wanted to throw up.

"Angen and I," Jeryd answered. "Don't worry, he's trustworthy. He pulled us out of the river close to where he was fishing and carried us back to this place and has been taking care of you since then. I've kept a close eye on everything."

"Angen?" The name sounded familiar. Sheik had definitely heard or seen it before, but where? His memory was just one big lump of fuzzy, unclear images that weren't clear to him at all, but he could've sworn that... "Angen, as in Angen Inn?" he asked, finally remembering the large building he and Link had passed by the large lake when they'd first arrived in Lumina. The man in the door hadn't seemed all that friendly for an innkeeper, much less like one that would fish injured people out of rivers.

"The very same," Jeryd confirmed. He had a fading bruise on his left cheek. "You've met him before?"

Sheik explained how he'd known the name.

"Yeah," Jeryd said, chuckling slightly. "He's a bit rough around the edges, but he's been attending to you diligently for the past two weeks—"

"Two weeks?" Sheik exclaimed. "I've been lying here for two bloody weeks?"

"That's why we were worried you wouldn't wake up," Jeryd said calmly, not bothered by Sheik's outburst in the slightest. "Your head wound was quite serious and Angen first thought that you'd suffered brain damage...but now that you're awake, I guess we can rule out that possibility."

 _Don't count on it just yet,_ Sheik thought, trying to get a good look at the room (which was easier said than done when one considered the fact that it seemed to be rolling around like a big dice). It seemed like a simple inn room, right enough—wooden floor, walls and ceiling. No windows. Simple and functional furniture, a barely comfortable bed... He slowly turned his head to look at his left arm. It was completely covered in an amateurish-looking cast, and it was mounted on some sort of rack that not only elevated the limb, but seemed to isolate it so that Sheik couldn't move it on his own power. His right arm was the same story, but he only had a bandage covering his shoulder. He was also bandaged heavily around his stomach.

"Don't worry," Jeryd said, noticing where Sheik was looking. "It's not serious. The bolt didn't hit anything vital. You might want to avoid flexing your abdominal muscles, however, because it is going to _hurt_ while it's still healing." Suddenly, a look of sadness came over him. "I was...worried, you know. So worried."

"Why?" Sheik. "As far as I know, we've only gotten you into trouble..."

"I don't mind, really," Jeryd said apprehensively. "Because I—"

He was interrupted by heavy footsteps approaching the room. "I ought to kick your head in for shouting this early in the morning," said the owner, his face appearing in the doorway. Sheik almost gulped. It was definitely the same man he'd seen in the doorway when they'd passed by the inn the first time.

"What's this about, then?" he asked, noticing the fully awake Sheik in the bed. "Huh, would've thought you'd kicked the bucket by now," he said with a tone that seemed to be both serious and joking at the same time and entered the room fully, making Sheik realise just how _huge_ the man was. He towered over them, at least two metres in height. Strong muscles rippled under his clothes, showing the result of years of hard labour. His face, however, was surprisingly gentle and kind-looking, despite the gruff words he's spoken. He looked to be in his early forties at the most, perhaps his late thirties. His eyes were such a bright shade of hazel they almost looked golden. His dark brown hair was long and not pulled back in any way, being allowed to flow freely and richly from his head. The look he was giving Sheik looked nothing like the one he'd given them while watching them cross the bridge. "How are you feeling?" he asked earnestly.

"Like I've taken a tumble over a cliff," Sheik said.

"As well you should," the man said, nodding. "The name's Angen. Just Angen. I don't think we've been properly introduced..."

"Sheik. Just Sheik."

"Right," Angen said, looking annoyed before moving towards Sheik's left arm. "I need to look at your hand," he said solemnly.

"I can't feel two of my fingers," Sheik said, realising that something was wrong as Angen quickly lifted away the bandage that was wrapped around the hand.

Angen shook his head. "No wonder," he said, causing Sheik to look at him in confusion. He moved Sheik's hand so that he could see that his little and ring fingers were a dark blue, almost black colour. He gritted his teeth. "Infection," Angen said simply. "I thought I'd fought it off with the medicine I've given you, but the damage, coupled with the loss of circulation, was too extensive, it seems."

Jeryd said nothing, but he took Sheik's right hand and squeezed as the Sheikah simply stared at his dead digits.

"They need to be amputated," Angen continued. "Or you're going to lose the whole hand, or, even worse, your arm."

Sheik nodded silently, knowing that there was nothing they could do about the infection after it had progressed this far. He'd seen cases like this during the war, and they had rarely ended pretty. Kaura had been quite adept at treating them, but not even her expertise could save flesh and bone that had already been taken by the rot.

"I'll go prepare," Angen said, standing up. "It won't take long. Jeryd, go get him some of the brandy behind the counter. We need him good and drunk for this. Oh, and don't worry, I've done this before." He directed the last part at Sheik, not exactly smiling encouragingly, but the tone clearly told Sheik that he meant it.

"Got it," Jeryd said, standing up to follow the man as he disappeared out into the hallway, but Sheik stopped him with a look. "What is it?"

"Who is he?" Sheik asked after Angen's footsteps had retreated a sufficient distance. "Is he a doctor? Why is he running an inn?"

"I don't know, Sheik," Jeryd said honestly. "He won't tell me anything about himself apart from his name. But please, he's been taking very good care of you—both of us—so far...and if there's a risk of that infection spreading..."

"Yes, I know," Sheik said, his head pounding. So, he was going to lose the fingers. Just like that. Just break an arm and there it was—an infection capable of utterly destroying one's body if allowed to go unchecked. It was almost laughably how easy it was to ruin one's body. It was so fragile, so vulnerable, so...squishy. It was surprising that a strong wind didn't break one's spine. Sheik sighed, prematurely lamenting the loss of the two digits. But he'd already lost an eye; surely a couple of fingers couldn't be all that bad? It was vastly more preferable than death—that was for damn sure. "About that brandy," he said slowly.

"Yes?"

"Better bring the whole bottle."

As Jeryd left, Sheik closed his eyes, taking slow and deep breaths as he tried to regain focus. So, he'd fallen into the river and gotten himself injured to an almost stupid degree. Jeryd had jumped after him and gotten hurt as well, leaving Link to fend for himself with a leg injury. Sheik and Jeryd had been rescued by Angen and taken to his inn, where he's been taking care of them. Right. That wasn't so hard.

He gulped when he remembered the dream he'd had. It had felt so _real_ , like he was back in that clearing created by the shadow's fantasies. But it was all false, of course. It had to be. As if the shadow had reached such a level of power as to be able to plant traces of itself into people—ridiculous and preposterous, worthy of a mighty _harrumph_ with at least three exclamation marks following it. He looked down at his bandaged stomach. The idea of some... _part_ of the shadow growing and festering within him was enough to send his head reeling and his stomach protesting wildly, almost making him gag. Fortunately, he didn't and was able to keep himself in control until Jeryd returned with an expensive-looking bottle of brandy and three glasses. Upon Sheik's quizzical expression, Jeryd shrugged helplessly.

"One for you to dull the pain, one for him to concentrate, and one for me to steady my nerves," the human explained as he poured the alcohol into the glasses, making sure that Sheik's was filled to the brim. "I don't much like the idea of someone operating while drinking, but it's better than dying of blood poisoning, right?"

"Yes, I might just die of blood _loss_ instead," Sheik drawled. "Far more humane and peaceful." He had a feeling he really shouldn't have been agreeing to this, not knowing Jeryd well enough and not knowing Angen _at all_ to be trusting them to perform such an operation...and yet, he did. Somehow, he knew that Jeryd wouldn't allow any funny business to happen.

Jeryd chuckled. "Can't argue with that." He held his glass to his lips and did the same with Sheik's. It was difficult to do anything without the use of his arms. "To a successful operation and a speedy recovery! Chin chin." They both drank, emptying their glasses in one gulp. The burnt wine seared a trail down Sheik's throat and made him cough a little, sending spasms of pain throughout his body before he requested more. He didn't like getting drunk, but he'd seen operations like these before and the agony the amputees had been put through was more than enough to convince him that breaking fingers was _nothing_ compared to cutting them off.

"Why doesn't he have any anaesthesia?" Sheik muttered as he finished off his third glass of brandy. He was pretty sure that the room was spinning even faster now.

"Because I'm not a licensed doctor," Angen said, suddenly stepping into the room. Neither Sheik nor Jeryd had heard him approach. "And only licensed doctors and apothecaries are allowed to make, use and store such chemicals." He was carrying a big bag similar to Kaura's, probably filled to the brim with surgical instruments and whatnot. He set it heavily on a small table that he moved to the rack that held Sheik's left arm up. A small chair was also placed by the table, giving him somewhere to sit. "And before you ask, I'm not an _un_ licensed doctor either," he said as he opened the bag and began taking out scalpels and saws that made Sheik's stomach give a lurch. "I'm just someone who's learned a lot more about medicine than he ever wanted to. Not that it hasn't come in use over the years, but..." he trailed off, studying a particularly nasty-looking contraption. "Let's just say that I know what I'm doing, yeah? Where's my brandy? Thank you."

He finished his drink in a single gulp and began to loosen the bonds of the rack, carefully lowering Sheik's hand to sit on the small table, but not before placing a cloth on top of the dark wood to soak up blood.

"Ever seen something like this done before?" he asked Sheik, his face absolutely serious.

Sheik nodded. "I'm not stranger to injuries like these, Mr. Angen—"

"Just Angen."

"—right, Angen. It is difficult to avoid seeing heavy injuries when fighting a war."

"Ain't that the truth," Angen muttered. "I figured you would, seeing as you're a Sheikah and all..."

"You know about my people?"

"Yeah, but not much. Only the broad, probably wrong facts that 'everyone' knows. Assassins, bodyguards...red eyes and blond hair...well, those are true from what I can see, but you catch my drift, yeah?"

"I do," Sheik said. "Then you also know what I'm capable of."

"Aye, and I also know what you _need_ in order to be capable of _doing_ those things. Don't worry." He cleared his throat, motioning for more brandy in his glass. "Right, you said you're familiar with operations like these, but I'll still go through it with you before I begin so you know exactly what's going to happen when."

"Very well," Sheik said, definitely feeling the effects of chugging down very strong alcohol. His head was buzzing now, just like it had done in his dream, and he knew that there was no way he would have been able to stand upright at the moment. Hopefully that would be enough to dull the pain. He just hoped that Angen wasn't a lightweight like him and could hold his liquor.

"First I'll start by cutting off as much of the blood circulation to your fingers as I can with a tourniquet," Angen explained, showing Sheik the tourniquet. "Then I will make an incision with the scalpel to the bone to get as much matter out of the way as possible." He held up a wicked-looking scalpel. "After that, I will use this saw—"he showed Sheik a surgical saw"—to sever the bone and the digit itself. I would usually cauterize the wound, but since I stupidly didn't think of that just now I will simply have to bind up the wounds as tightly as possible after disinfecting them. If all goes well, it won't take long for your fever to clear and all that good stuff. I have one warning for you: this is going to _hurt like a son of a bitch_! Even with a lot of alcohol flowing through you, you are going to feel absolutely everything. Feel free to scream bloody murder and threaten me with horrible death and destruction, but know that I am simply doing what I must to keep you alive. Understood?"

"Understood," Sheik confirmed and then had Jeryd pour another glassful of brandy down his throat. His heart began to beat faster as Angen began to screw on the tourniquet, the instrument making squeaky noises as the metallic bits ground against each other with every turn. Jeryd must have noticed his nervousness, for he suddenly took Sheik's right hand and squeezed it again, just like he'd done when Angen had first examined the dead fingers. Sheik didn't mind—he _needed_ someone to hold on to for this. Impa had always taught him not to show pain under any circumstances, but he had a feeling that his aunt would overlook this one occasion.

Angen grunted as he gave the tourniquet a final twist and let go. "That should do it." He picked up the scalpel and, after a moment's hesitation, downed some more brandy. "Didn't think I'd ever have to do _this_ again," he mumbled. "You ready?"

"As ready as I'll ever be, I suppose," Sheik slurred, surprised at how fast the brandy had worked. Jeryd squeezed his hand a little tighter.

"Good," Angen said.

Sheik looked away as he felt the scalpel grazing the skin of his hand as Angen tried to decide where to cut. His heart was beating wildly, like he'd just ran a couple of miles, and cold sweat was soaking his forehead. His vision still spun, but he realised that fastening his gaze on Jeryd helped quite a bit, and the human held it, silently acknowledging Sheik's need.

"I need you to hold still," Angen said. "I don't want to nick anything important by mistake."

"Right." Sheik tried to steady himself, breathing deeply.

"Don't worry, Sheik, I'm here," Jeryd said kindly, smiling at him.

That provided more comfort than he had expected, and the human's calm, almost serene expression was enough to even calm _him_ down a bit.

"Here we go," Angen said and began to cut.

Any semblance of composure, peacefulness and toughness disappeared the second the scalpel cut through Sheik's flesh. His entire frame seized up, body stiffening to such a degree that his spine made an ominous cracking sound and his muscles ached in protest of being treated in such a way. His hand clutched Jeryd's so hard that it cut the human's circulation off, but Jeryd merely squeezed back, speaking calmly to Sheik the entire time. "It's okay, it's okay...you're doing good..."

The scalpel hit bone, and Jeryd's voice disappeared, covered up by a blanket of sheer agony that blocked out everything else but the sensation of the cold metal cutting him. His mouth opened on its own accord, and Sheik screamed.

* * *

**Soul Remnants  
Chapter 14**

* * *

"How are you feeling?"

The question was becoming an annoyingly regular occurrence, precise and timely like the clock on the wall of his room. It was always asked in the same tone as well—careful and well-meaning, polite and nice like the day is long (and with his current level of activity and otherwise busy-keeping, the days were becoming _very_ long...) and always, without fail, accompanied by a smile and a steaming cup of either coffee, tea or some sort of watery remains of a berry-mixture that Angen apparently used for making hard liquor, moonshine in every way except that you were more likely to see utter oblivion rather than the moon if you were to drink it. It had been nice at first, but after the first week or so the question, the smile and the cup of hot drink were starting to grate on Sheik's nerves. It wasn't that he didn't appreciate what Jeryd was doing for him, but...Sheik just wished he could be out of bed. Angen wasn't having any of that, however, and kept him firmly in place with a twist of a few screws in his racks.

The worst part was going to the bathroom. Three times a day he was allowed out of bed in order to relieve himself in the outhouse behind the inn, but with his arms in such a miserable state he couldn't even...help himself. Of course Jeryd was the one to volunteer to help him, but Angen usually stepped in, claiming that Sheik would probably re-break his arm again if he didn't do it. It was so embarrassing, as if he had been reduced to the stage of a toddler! But there wasn't much he could do, so he bore with it, willing the day of complete recovery ever closer.

He couldn't remember much of the operation. He remembered the searing pain in his fingers when Angen had started to cut with his scalpel, but everything after that was a just a white wall of merciful forgetfulness and blocked out memories. He'd woken up with a headache that rivalled the world in size and a mouth as dry as a desert—a side-effect of Angen's rather...unconventional anaesthesia—and a heavy bandage around his hand, out from which three digits poked out. His thumb, his index finger and his middle finger...but where the last two fingers were supposed to be there was just air and two faint blood stains in the bandage.

He had no idea how long he had staring at his hand for. It was simply such a difficult thought to reconcile with—two integral parts of his body were gone. Forever. Of course, it wasn't out of emotional attachment that Sheik was having difficulties with it. Okay, maybe a _little_ out of emotional attachment, but the worst part was that he knew that his combat abilities were invariably and negatively affected by this loss. Any action that required dexterity of the fingers was also going to suffer for it. His lyre had somehow survived the events of the last month and was currently on display in the chair next to his bed. He was dreading the day he could pick it up and play it again, for he was unsure of whether or not he'd be able to play with the ease and skill he once had. Music was an important part of Sheik's life, and if he could not create or play it...the thought was almost too painful to even consider.

At least the infection had cleared up, much to everyone's relief. The concussion had not been as serious as they had first thought, and within days of the ordeal Sheik was once again cogitating on the level that always left everyone else a little uncomfortable since the ages of his body and mind did not match entirely. There is nothing more off-putting to an adult than watching someone they still consider a child think on a much higher level than themselves. Of course, this was not Sheik's words (he had no delusions of being smarter than anyone else—quite the contrary since, he realised, that he had done very many stupid things as of late, the most notable one being coming to this bloody place!) but Jeryd's, who spent the days by Sheik's bedside, providing the younger with some much-needed (though, at times, much-hated) company. Angen checked in on him all the time, of course, but the man was running an inn on the side, which meant that he had to be in several places at once. Jeryd tried to help him out, but Angen usually ordered him back to Sheik's side, claiming that someone needed to keep an eye on the, in his words, dumbass spy so he didn't take a tumble off the edge of the bed and necessitate the removal of his arms and legs as well.

Sheik looked up at Jeryd standing in the door, a steaming cup in his hands. Judging by the strong smell, it was coffee, a drink Sheik had come to appreciate more and more as the autumn season outside raged stronger and stronger. At this rate, winter would be here by the time Sheik got out of the damn bed!

"Like usual," Sheik replied, nodding for Jeryd to come inside. The human smiled and seated himself by the bed. "Restless and bed-weary."

"Understandable," Jeryd replied, pursing his lips. "I'm surprised you haven't tried to break free yet, to be honest."

"I would have, if it wasn't for the fact that I'm probably going to end up dead if I tried," Sheik said. "Say what you will about Angen's inn-keeping skills, but he's a damn solid engineer. I wouldn't be able to get my arms out of these racks with anything less than a whole team of demolishers." He flexed his right arm experimentally, feeling the pain in his shoulder flare up. He had, with the permission of Angen, tried lifting his right arm when he was allowed out of bed and, with a great sense of relief, discovered that the muscle tissue in there was intact and just needed to heal, just like the crossbow bold wound in his stomach.

"Heh, you're right," Jeryd said, looking more closely at the complicated wood and metal construction. "But then I imagine you'll be thrilled to know that he's going to let you out of it this afternoon."

"Really?" It was hard to suppress the happy tone in his voice, but Sheik managed it somehow. After a month (though two weeks of it were spent unconscious) in this prison, he would finally be allowed to roam free. All he needed then was a horse, and—

"Don't even think about it," Jeryd said warningly.

"Think about what?" Sheik asked innocently, widening his eyes to make them appear big and childish. His acting skills needed work, and this was a great opportunity.

"You're thinking of finding a horse and leaving to search for the Hero the second you're released, aren't you?" Jeryd said, guessing Sheik's plans with an almost eerie precision. "Well, that's not happening on my watch. Angen's told me to keep a close eye on you to make sure you don't do anything stupid or prevent your injuries from healing." At this point he lifted the cup of coffee to Sheik's lips, forcing him to take a drink. "Besides, you need to build up your strength in your right arm again, and you're going to need my help with that."

"You don't think I can sit and lift a heavy object by myself?" Sheik asked when the cup was taken away, almost rolling his eyes. "I may need help to go to the bathroom—well, not anymore—but I do believe I can be trusted with lifting an improvised dumbbell."

"Oh, he's got no doubt that you're capable of lifting it," Jeryd said. "He's just not sure if you're able to stop yourself from overdoing it."

"That's ridicu—"He interrupted himself, realising that Angen probably had a point. He had always had a problem with knowing when to quit. Even Impa had told him so, on many occasions, in fact. She'd always ended those lectures with an open palm upside his head. And yet he'd never learned. It had probably been because he wanted to be as useful as possible to Zelda and Hyrule, and that meant that he could not give up no matter how difficult his task was.

"Hit a sore spot, did I?" Jeryd said triumphantly, giving Sheik another sip of coffee. "Don't worry, Sheik," he said kindly afterwards. "You'll be back to full strength in no time, and then I'll help you find him. I promise."

Sheik looked at him. "Why are you doing this?" he asked. "You had no personal stake in making sure that Link and I escaped the city, and yet you risked your life multiple times...and you've still not claimed a reward or given me a reason." He'd asked this question multiple times, but the human had always dodged the question and replaced it with another or simply stopped talking altogether, but something was different this time.

"If you must know," Jeryd said, sighing, "it's because I wanted to...to get to know you better." At Sheik's questioning glance, he sighed again and elaborated: "You may have me pegged down as a boring bureaucrat who simply shifts paper around all day, and that may be true for the most part, at least concerning what I do for a living, but I've always been interested in...shall we say, the darker parts of our lives, and the world of assassins and spies has always attracted me in a way I can't describe... So I've done a lot of research on the subject, but there's always been one group of people that's interested me more than any other..."

"The Sheikah," Sheik said bluntly.

"Correct," said Jeryd. "I've spent so many hours of my life simply reading the same material about you, again and again until I've known it by heart, so many hours obsessing over the little details...I so wanted to meet one, to see if they were truly as mysterious and...and _intriguing_ as the books have painted you to be. Imagine how devastated I was when I realised that the chances of such a meeting taking place were so remote that I was better off wishing the moon would grow a face and come crashing down on the world—ridiculous isn't it? But then I was told that you were coming to thank the king for his help in rebuilding your kingdom! Oh, I begged, begged and utterly _begged_ Ise to let me do something that would bring me into close contact with you, and she reluctantly agreed to let me design your finery. It was a dream come true, it really was." As he finished, Jeryd had the most radiant smile on his face, one that reminded Sheik a little of Link whenever he was talking about something he was passionate about.

"And?"

"Pardon?"

" _Am_ I as mysterious and intriguing as the books claim I should be?"

Jeryd stared at him. "More than I could possibly imagine."

* * *

Rial glared at floor in front of the cell the Sheikah had escaped from a month earlier. The servants had not been able to completely remove the bloodstains, leaving a few darker spots on the already dark stone floor. It vexed him, it truly did. How had the bloody assassin been able to not only fool Rial's men to open the door, but also kill them effortlessly like he had? Why had he not been caught by the other guards patrolling the dungeons? That cleric, Jeryd, couldn't possibly have known how to navigate the labyrinthine darkness down here, and yet he had. No one had thought of having the guards at the gates checking for anyone other than the Hero of Time, so one more person in the procession wouldn't have been thought of as weird... But why had the cleric decided to help them? It didn't make any sense, and that was what vexed him the most

"Captain?" One of his men stood behind him. "The king requests your presence in the throne room as soon as possible."

Rial nodded. "Right, I'll go there immediately." As he trudged his way back up the stairs to the castle proper, he went through the written reports in his head. None of them had been conclusive, all pointing to different routes and reasons for the ease of escape the Sheikah had, leaving Rial even _more_ annoyed. Over a hundred men he had under his command, and yet none of them had seen anything the night their _king_ and four of their own had been brutally murdered. It was...well, the V-word.

He passed Rehm on his way to the throne room. The old man looked angry and didn't even deign to acknowledge him with a grunt, which automatically put a smile on Rial's face. Anything that pissed off the old man made him happy. It was one of those few pleasures the captain could take these days.

The throne room was empty save for one person. Victor was sitting on the throne, wearing the king's uniform. Unlike his princely garb, it made him look so much younger, like he was a little boy trying on daddy's clothes. And, really, with the weight Victor had lost in the past month, perhaps that wasn't too bad an analogy. The king looked _awful_ , his eyes sunken and clothes hanging off him like he as a skeleton. The coronation had been a mess. They'd been forced to push Robar's funeral ahead because the Red Viper poison apparently sped up the decomposition process, leaving the embalmers powerless to stop the old king from rotting, which meant that Victor was crowned in front of his father's open coffin. It had definitely impacted the boy negatively. The second he had excused himself and left the room with Rial, he had collapsed against the captain and started shaking, and it had taken Rial almost two hours to calm him down again.

"Your Majesty," Rial said, kneeling. "You sent for me?"

"Rial, what have I told you about calling me that when we're alone?" Victor asked with a tired smile on his face. His mismatched eyes were dark with fatigue. He didn't sleep much anymore, it seemed. "And stand up, for goodness' sake!"

"I apologise, Victor," Rial said, standing up and nodding. "It is...difficult to ease into such a breach of protocol."

"To hell with protocol," Victor said without much enthusiasm. "I hate protocol. I'm the king, why am I not allowed to change it?"

"Because it would bring the wrath of your ancestors down upon your head and grind you into dust?" Rial said with a wry smile, paraphrasing Victor's old tradition and etiquette tutor.

"Ah, yes, there's that," Victor said, shaking his head.

"Victor, I don't mean to be rude, but why did you summon me?" Rial asked, deciding to cut to the chase. As much as he enjoyed conversing with his monarch, he had to approve a new guard schedule, ensure that the way to the sewers were welded shut and a thousand other things that all the other people inside the castle seemed to think happened by themselves.

"I'm sorry, Rial, but there's no _real_ reason I called you here," Victor said, smile fading fast. "I...I just needed someone to talk to. Someone who won't shower me with demands and threats."

"The civil unrest is escalating, then?" Rial asked.

"Indeed. General Agon tells me that many of the northern villages, towns and cities are starting to murmur in disagreement of not only my father's many...shall we say, misguided acts, but also _my_ ascension to the throne. Some of the nobles don't believe I am ready for it. And Countess Marlotta's entire county is in an uproar—she's fighting heavily armed mercenaries, apparently hired by the peasants..."

"The countess' problem might have its root in the not-so-natural death of her husband, however," Rial said, unable to resist a shot at the aristocracy. "He was popular—her not so much."

Victor shook his head, but he grinned a little at Rial's comment. "As much as I would like to believe that she was in involved in the count's unfortunate and untimely passing, there is simply not enough evidence to support your case, Rial. But yes, I suppose you are right that it is not just my family that is at fault in Urne... The fact that we are more or less _broke_ , however, is very much my father's fault and a problem I truly cannot see how to solve. And I just could not take Rehm's proposal seriously..."

"What proposal would that be, if you don't mind me asking?" Rial said.

Victor grinned again, but it was a fake one this time. "He suggested that we should reopen the mines around Prison's Peak and start digging for the minerals that were left behind when the Enlightened One was interred there."

That was insane. True and utter insanity.

"And you told him no, I suppose?"

"In no uncertain terms, and believe you me, Rial, that was far more difficult than I thought it would be." Victor leaned forward in his seat. "I wasn't even able to tell that he wasn't joking until he told me that he had already started planning an expedition there."

"That is utterly ridiculous," Rial said. "Rehm knows the laws! He knows that no one but the Silver Guard is allowed to even approach that mountain, much less dig in it!"

"That's what I told him," Victor said, nodding. "He did not appreciate it and left feeling rather cross, I imagine."

"I passed him on the way here—he was not very happy," Rial confirmed.

"As I thought. Well, that is his problem. My father left me many problems, but I shall find a way to solve them without resorting to blasphemy and risk bringing another divine intervention upon us. We barely recovered from the last one."

"Not to mention the civil war..." The words had left Rial's mouth before he realised what he was saying, and he promptly clamped his jaws shut, watching Victor carefully.

The king's eyes had widened somewhat, but otherwise he hardly seemed to have been affected by the captain's words. "Hm, yes, I suppose you are right..." he said slowly. "That particular fiasco put quite a bit of pressure on the coffers and the people..."

Rial wanted to go as far as to suggest that the civil war that had broken out fourteen years earlier might have been a factor in the uprising in Urne and the unrest in the rest of the kingdom, but it was a sore spot for every person in Lumina and even mentioning it was a huge taboo. He was surprised Victor hadn't told him to leave already. After all, he'd been kidnapped by the rebels while it was still raging.

"But surely there are other places we can search for resources?" he said, trying to lure the king away from the subject he had so stupidly brought up. "I mean, we've only mined about half the mountains surrounding us..."

"Difficult," Victor said simply. "Most of the mountains are simply too hard to dig through—we don't have the necessary tools. Not to mention the fact that it would take prospectors years upon years to actually deem a mountain viable for mining, by which time all will have been lost anyway. I appreciate the suggestion, Rial, but I need to find a way to appease everyone that gives just a tiny earlier pay-off. Preferably yesterday." He sighed again. "But Rehm's got his mind made up and will probably take it up with the council, and then they will put even more pressure on me..."

"The council members aren't stupid enough to listen to Rehm's suggestion," Rial said firmly. "They know what it would mean to reopen those mines." He felt a smouldering anger flare up again, directed towards Rehm. The man should know better! Rial was definitely going to have a word with him later on—preferably in a sound-proof room. "Though you may want to reassert the royal decree, just to remind them of it."

Victor smiled. "That's a good idea, Rial, thank you. I knew talking to you would cheer me up."

Rial felt a pang of guilt. Victor hadn't realised that he had just been pushed to do it, though Rial _knew_ it was for the greater good that those mines remained sealed. He didn't worship the Goddesses (he hated them, in fact) but he also knew that they would not hesitate to call down judgement upon Lumina if they as much as _dared_ to consider defying their commandment. The Enlightened One was to remain imprisoned until the end of time or the deities decided otherwise.

Perhaps it was because he wanted to cheer Victor up, or perhaps it was to appease his own guilt about what he had just done—Rial wasn't sure, but he then said the following, "Victor, you know you can talk to me about anything, don't you? I may be your guard captain and protector, but I'm also your friend. Don't hesitate to tell me if anything is bothering you—my lips are sealed."

It was meant to be a friendly and tender reminder, but it might as well have been a death threat and a slap in the face considering the agonised look that crossed over Victor's face just then, his entire being shaking. "Please leave, Rial," he choked out.

"Victor, I—"

"Just go!"

Rial nodded, bowed again and quickly left the throne room, looking back to see Victor curling up on the throne, quietly sobbing. He briefly entertained the idea of running back to his king and declare his...what was it? Several storybook terms for it popped up in the captain's head, but none of them seemed all that applicable to his situation. Anything to stop Victor from being so...so _miserable_. The king had summoned him to cheer him up, and Rial had only made everything worse. No, he wasn't worthy. And for someone of his position in society to feel something like this for one of royal blood...it wasn't proper. No, he'd have to find a way to make it up to Victor later, somehow.

But now, he had an old man to speak to.

He found Rehm in his quarters, reading a letter with the council seal on it. The spartan room was as bare as ever, covering only the most basic of needs such as sleeping and washing. As the leader of the council, Rehm could have had chambers rivalling those of the king's in size and decadence, and yet he had chosen this cold, stone room with nothing but a bed, a washbasin and a small desk with an accompanying chair. It didn't sit well with Rial—no one denied themselves unnecessary luxury, they just didn't!

"Ah, captain," he said after reading the letter, having ignored his presence until now. "What can I do for you?" Every trace of his previous show of anger was gone and replaced with his usually bubbly and—dare Rial think it?— _friendly_ persona. It was...unsettling to say the least. But then again, Rehm was a politician, and hiding their true nature is _second_ nature to a politician.

Had this been any other occasion, Rial would have smiled politely and excused himself with some worthless excuse, but right now he was livid, both with Rehm and himself, and he decided to take it out on the councillor. He slammed the door shut behind him, marched up to Rehm's chair, hauled the man out of it by the collar of his robes and slammed him against the stone wall. Rehm groaned as Rial put his face inches from his.

"You know bloody well why I'm here, old man," he growled quietly, glaring into Rehm's light-blue eyes. "The king told me of your little _plan_ to relieve our kingdom of its destitution. What the hell do you think you're doing? You know the laws forbid us from even talking about—"

"Take your hands off me, captain," Rehm said, his voice icy. He returned Rial's glare with the intensity of a man decades younger. "Or I might consider reporting you for violence against a government official, which—ah!"

Rial slammed Rehm into the wall once more, silencing the old codger with a snarl. "And I might consider running you through for violating the royal decree! It is bad enough that you would commit such a blasphemy and crime, but to suggest it to the king in such a troubled time...it is unforgivable!"

"Royal decree—hah!" Rehm exclaimed, laughing hollowly. "Why must you and every other pathetic person in this kingdom cling to this sort of old-fashioned hysterical belief in some higher beings, captain? Has the world not suffered enough injustice based on the whim and slight misinterpretation of these _Goddesses'_ wills? Tell me, how do we even know there _are_ any Goddesses? As I recall, they have not shown their faces since the time of the Enlightened One, and I, quite frankly, find it difficult to believe the old texts when over half of them have not even been translated correctly! And finding eyewitnesses from that time is quite a difficult task!"

"I did not come here for a religious _debate_ ," Rial snarled and slammed the man into the wall for the third time. "No, I came here to warn you, Rehm."

"And what warning would that be, Vortan?"

"If I hear of you ever uttering such a suggestion to the king again, I will personally see to it that you finally discover if the Goddesses are real for yourself," Rial said quietly, almost in a whisper. He roughly let go of Rehm, who was barely able to keep himself from sinking to the floor. Rial felt another pang of guilt—Rehm _was_ an old man, after all, and hardly able to defend himself against the much younger and stronger captain—but he ignored it, turning on his heels and marching for the door. He cast a quick glance at the letter lying on the desk on his way out, leaving the door open behind him.

He waited until he rounded a corner before stopping and leaning against the wall, scratching his chin. He hadn't been able to read the entire letter, for the handwriting had been small and fairly illegible, but what little writing he'd been able to decipher, along with Rehm's strange reaction to his threat, had left a budding suspicion in the back of his head.

He'd been able to read the words "Assassin", "Agon", "Uprising in Urne going as planned" and "Phase two starts soon." The letter had been signed by Countess Marlotta. Rial had a feeling he should tell someone about what he had just seen, but if he went and accused Marlotta and Rehm of being involved in Robar's murder and had nothing but a skimmed letter as proof...well, things might just take an unwanted turn—towards the executioner's block, that is. High treason was a serious crime, but so was falsely _accusing_ someone of high treason. No, Rial needed more evidence. If those two were in cahoots, then one of them was bound to slip up sooner or later, preferably sooner, and Rial would simply have to keep them under close watch. Rehm was easy enough to keep an eye on, but Marlotta was currently in Urne...he'd have to wait until she came for a visit, which was quite often these days.

"Lot of work ahead of me," he muttered to himself and began to walk in the direction of the barracks. He needed to get let out some aggression, and he pitied whoever was currently off-duty in the guards' quarters...and then there was that new schedule to approve...things never end, do they?

* * *

The moon shone down on the hilltop where the cloaked assassin stood. He was leaning against a tree, his hood pulled tightly over his head. He was perfectly at ease, looking down upon a small hamlet where he knew not a soul was still awake. There were no guards, no appointed protectors of the sleeping population. Any idiot with a knife could just walk right in and slit the throats of every man, woman and child down there and no one would know until someone came to visit. The assassin sighed, wondering what the world was coming to with people feeling _safe_ all of a sudden—it was disgusting!

He adjusted his footing, propping his arm up against the rough bark of the oak. The air was chilly, and his breath came out in clouds of smoke. Autumn was quickly losing the battle against winter, and soon the entire kingdom would be covered in snow, and that would make things...complicated. He heard the quiet, almost unheard footsteps behind him and turned around with a smile on his face.

"Well?" he asked, already knowing the answer—but he liked asking anyway, if only for his partner's benefit.

"Not a bloody trace of him anywhere," E said, coming up to K. The other assassins behind her stood with their heads bowed in polite silence. "We've searched high and low, but he's gone completely off the grid. It's ridiculous!" She punched the tree, which sent splinters of bark flying in all directions, betraying her true strength. The guild assassins didn't show any outward signs of shock, but K knew that they had all been surprised at E's show of force.

"Not ridiculous," K said. "It is one of the things Sheikah are best at—going unnoticed, that is. If Sheik does not wish to be found, then he will not be found. It is that simple."

"Then what's the point of us searching for him?" E asked. "A whole month, K. We've wasted an entire month searching for him, and now you're saying we're not going to find him no matter how hard we try? Why are we even doing it, then?"

"For the challenge, of course," K said, grinning. "And I wanted to test your patience. Besides, we know for a fact that he has not left the kingdom, nor has the Hero of Time. They will most likely be together with the bureaucrat, and that is a problem since we probably could have found the Hero and the bureaucrat if they were by themselves."

"And?" E said calmly, ignoring the part about testing her patience. She knew better than to fall for K's bait, for he would certainly turn it around on her. He liked messing with her like that. "What good does that information do us?"

"That in itself does not do us any good," K said, "but it does mean that there is something we can do to...help ourselves."

"Which is?"

"We need to draw them out."

"How?"

"I do not know yet, but be assured that I am working on it. In the meantime, continue searching. Who knows, maybe Sheik will slip up and make a mistake?" He looked at the guild assassins. "Are you deaf?"

The guild assassins quickly dispersed, disappearing silently among the trees.

"Tch, guilders," K muttered. He noticed E staring at him and raised an unseen eyebrow beneath his hood. "What?"

"It's so weird to hear you say his name," E said, lowering her hood and letting the moonlight reflect off her golden eyes. "You say it with a strange sort of...fondness."

"Why wouldn't I?"

"Because you don't speak about _anyone_ with that tone of voice," she clarified. "Hell, I don't even think you'd talk about your _mother_ like that."

"My mother is dead, killed while fighting for a cause that was not hers," K said gruffly. "Why would I speak about her with fondness when she left me to a world that hates me? Besides, there is _one_ other person I speak about with fondness." He reached up and stroked E's cheek, setting off a fiery blush that could be seen even in the pale night. "You know what you have to do," he said, dropping his hand. "You know where to find me—report back in a week."

"What are you going to do in the meantime?" E asked, pulling her hood back on.

"I have some other business to attend to," K said, turning back to look at the hamlet. He fingered a dagger anxiously. "Some...nasty business, unfortunately. I'll see you in a week." With that said, he began to walk towards the hamlet, moving with complete silence and blending in with the surrounding foliage. E stared after him until he disappeared completely and, after a moment's hesitation, went in the same direction as the guild assassins.

Three days later, a visitor from a neighbouring village found, to his horror, every single person in the hamlet murdered in their beds and that the words "Come out, come out, Sheikah!" had been painted with some the victims' blood on the hamlet elder's door.

* * *

**Soul Remnants  
Chapter 15**

* * *

_**One month earlier…** _

Link grunted as he sheathed the Master Sword and ran in the direction Sheik and Jeryd had gone. The pitter-patter of the driving rain and raging thunder above did little to mask the twangs of crossbow strings sending deadly bolts at his back. A loud whistle that shot past his ear signalled that one particular shooter had almost gotten lucky. He passed the still vibrating bolt in the tree it had hit, shuddering as he realised just how close he'd been to death right then. He leapt over a fallen oak, wondering if he was even going the right way—Sheik and Jeryd could have taken an immediate right or left to fool their pursuers as far as he knew. He was exhausted, the strain of using magic after so long getting to him.

He was surprised when he was suddenly met by open air and a grassy area that, in the flash of lightning, he could see terminated in a steep drop. He heard the roar of a wild river, agitated by the downpour. He spotted Sheik and Jeryd standing near the edge, Sheik waving his arms at him. He yelled something. "Link...we...to jump!" Contrary to popular belief among those who knew him, Link was not stupid enough to be unable to piece such a phrase together and guess its meaning and nodded, seeing no other way out. He ducked under another bolt as it passed overhead and heard voices shouting not far behind him. "Got it, I—ah!" Searing pain shot through his leg as a bolt buried itself in his calf. He tried to keep himself upright, but the strength had simply been sapped from his leg and he crashed to the ground, skidding a few feet over the wet grass. He let out a pained scream as he realised what had happened and tried to crawl towards the others.

He saw Jeryd's eyes widen and his mouth moving. Sheik tensed up, preparing to move towards Link and help him up, but the red-eyed boy suddenly froze, his entire body jerking. Link's breath hitched as he saw the back-end of a quarrel sticking out of Sheik's stomach, just above the hem of his trousers. The Sheikah looked as surprised as Link, who heard a voice that sounded like his scream his name, was, and the Hero saw Sheik's eyes flicker towards his before another quarrel hit Sheik square in the shoulder and sent him spinning head-first over the edge. Jeryd threw a hand out, trying to catch the blond, but it was too late. Sheik was gone.

"Go get him! Jump after him!" Link screamed at Jeryd, who looked torn between hurling himself after the Sheikah and helping the Hero. "Save Sheik or I'll shove my sword so far up your ass that you'll taste cold steel for the rest of your Goddesses-damned life!" Jeryd gave him another hesitant look before nodding and jumping after Sheik, but not before a quarrel grazed his cheek, which hardly seemed to faze the young human.

Link stared at the edge for a few seconds before the pain in his leg got the better of him and made him groan loudly. He tried feebly to crawl towards the edge, but the wound, coupled with his rampant use of magic just minutes before had left him weak and unable to do much besides think and breathe. "Sheik...please be okay," he said quietly, hoping Jeryd had gotten to him. The sounds of crossbow fire had stopped, and the shouting voices were approaching fast, some of them laughing.

He managed to filter out the words "Right in the gut!" and "I got the traitor!" before several men in light scouting armour emerged from the trees, their crossbows casually pointed at him. "He's here!" one of them shouted back at the forest.

"Knock him out!" someone replied. The voice was gruff and had a strict quality about it, like it belonged to someone who was used to discipline. "Take him back to the base!"

Link growled and drew his sword, realising that there was pretty much nothing he could do lying in a prone position while barely being able to lift his own damn weapon, but there was no way in hell he was going down without a fight. He swung at an approaching scout's legs. The man jumped away, laughing at the pathetic attempt, brandishing a wooden club. As he came closer again, Link summoned the last of his strength and rose to his feet, supporting most of his weight on his right leg, ignoring the pain where the bolt had hit him. He reached for his shield, but it was gone—accidentally dropped somewhere back among the trees.

"Look at the mighty Hero of Time, people," said the club-wielding scout, grinning. "Wobbling and wavering like an old man!" He had to shout the last part to be heard over the thunder.

Rainwater kept getting in Link's eyes, but he kept them firmly on the scout with the club. The others seemed content with watching their friend taking on an unfairly injured opponent. Too bad they didn't know that Link had fought with far worse injuries than this. He bowed his head, letting his sword tip touch the ground in a sign of fatigue, luring the scout closer. Just as the man was about to swing the club at the back of his head, Link spun around and swung his sword, slicing cleanly through the man's wrist. The club, still gripped by the man's twitching hand, dropped to the ground, the blood quickly being washed away by the rain. The scout screamed, stumbling backwards and clutching his new stump, unintelligible gibberish streaming from his flapping tongue and gritted teeth.

The reaction from the other scouts was immediate, leaving no time for Link to try and use the confusion in order to get himself over the cliff edge. They drew their clubs as well, discarding the crossbows in the grass, advancing quickly. Link tried to back away, tried to at least get himself closer to his salvation, but a quick-thinking scout quickly positioned himself between the Hero and the edge. Cursing quietly, Link surveyed his opponents carefully, wishing that the water would stop running into his eyes.

Movement from the left!

He parried the club and smacked the hilt of the Master Sword into the man's face. His nose collapsed with an unsavoury sound and fell backwards, groaning.

Movement from the back!

Link ducked, grabbed the attacking scout's arm and pulled, using the man's own momentum against him to flip him over. He landed on his head, and Link felt a twinge of guilt as he heard his neck snap and a surprised gasp before he went quiet. It was self-defence—the scout had brought it on himself!

He was prepared to face another opponent when he suddenly heard footsteps approaching from both sides. He had no time to react as he received a club blow to his gut and one in his shoulder, forcing him to drop his sword. And then someone struck him in the calf that had been shot, and a white wall of pain just shut everything out. He vaguely felt himself hit the ground, his throat aching from an unheard scream, the only sound he could hear being his heartbeat, the blood rushing through his body creating a deafening cacophony of white noise. As his vision gradually returned he became aware that the surviving and uninjured scouts were kicking him where he lay. He curled up into a ball, shielding his head with his arms. Someone got a lucky shot in his stomach, and he was pulled to his knees, shrieking in agony as the quarrel in his calf was jostled about. A scout sneered in his face before lifting his club.

Link felt it strike the back of his neck, and then everything went black...

* * *

_**One month later...** _

"I distinctly recall telling you to meet me next week. It has only been four days," K said, annoyed. He was cleaning his daggers and throwing knives in front of a roaring fire in his room at a small inn south of Lumina City. He usually preferred to sleep outside under the stars, but the changing seasons had forced him to seek shelter here for the night. Already the ground crackled with frost underfoot in the mornings, and he did not appreciate the idea of catching frostbite just yet. Maybe the idea would grow on him later. He looked up at E, grimacing at his partner's grimy appearance. "And what on earth have you been doing?"

"Slogging through marshlands," E said brightly, not appearing to notice K's annoyance. "Specifically, those of Urne. And it was frickin' cold, too!"

K raised an eyebrow. "Urne? That's quite a distance away. How did you get there and back so quickly?"

"It's quite easy when you hitch a ride with an airship," E said, grinning. "I figured it was worth taking a look at the fighting there and I snuck aboard _The Chimera_ when it was refuelling in Lumina City and jumped off when it stopped in Urne. I stole a horse and rode it back here. Brilliant, huh? And riding on that ship— _wow_! I mean, I've climbed some trees, buildings and mountains in my still relatively short time, but that was amazing! You can see the whole of Lumina from up there!"

"I will call it brilliant if you tell me you actually got something useful out of it except for a joyride," K said and gestured for E to take a seat next to him in the heat of the fire, which she did. She immediately scooted close to him. After a second's hesitation (and taking another look at her muddied clothes), K relaxed, smiling slightly. "You wouldn't come back to me so soon unless you had some new information, right?"

"That's right," E said and drew a letter out from a hidden pocket in her outfit. "I intercepted this at the county border. I think you'll find it interesting. I've located the Hero of Time."

K snatched the letter out of her hand a bit quicker and frantically than he had meant to, which he covered up with a cough. He unfolded the paper and quickly scanned the lines. "I assume this is a copy?" he said slowly.

"Of course," E said, sounding insulted. "I just held up the messenger for a bit, copied the letter and sent him on his way."

"Interesting..." K said slowly. "It appears that they got split up the night they escaped from the capital city... For the Hero to end up there...how strange, and for what purpose?"

"Hell if I know," E said. "The messenger was riding for his life, too."

"Apparently there are some other machinations going on here that we have not been privy to," K said, folding his hands and tapping his thumbs together. "A plot against the new king, perhaps? That's a bit quick...and rash. Why not eliminate both the king and the prince at the same time? Why wait for the prince to ascend the throne before inhuming him as well? Strange..."

"I don't think that's what they're doing," E said as she took the letter and read it for what was probably the hundredth time. "It seems that they are planning something, alright, but I don't think it has anything to do with the king at all."

"It does mention this 'Enlightened One' a lot," K said. "Think it has anything to do with that?"

"Do you really have to ask?" E said, giving him a crooked grin. "I thought _you_ were the brains in this partnership."

"I was simply venturing a guess," K said, returning the grin. "I _have_ to be the brains in this partnership or there wouldn't _be_ any partnership on account of you being dead because of your own lack of said _brains_ ," he deadpanned, which he knew infuriated E to no end. "I do not know enough about this kingdom's history or its religions to form an educated opinion, which is why I asked."

E's grin had frozen on her face after the insult. After a moment's thought, she punched K hard in the shoulder as a form of revenge and settled for pouting at the fire. "So...what do we do?"

"Tell the guilders to keep looking for Sheik and Jeryd—"

"Learnt his name, have you?"

"Yes," he replied, glaring at her for interrupting. He hadn't even flinched when she'd punched him. "Tell them to look for Sheik and Jeryd. After that, you will go to the location specified in the letter and infiltrate it and keep an eye on the Hero and wait for further instructions."

"What about you?"

"I will do some research in the capital—I need to know more about this kingdom if I am to figure out what is going on."

"Why?" E looked at him. "Why aren't we just doing our job and getting the hell out of here? By the look of things, civil war is about to break out. Why should we stay here?"

"Because, my dear E, things are about to get _very_ interesting here," K replied, his eyes glittering in the firelight. "And I wouldn't miss it for the world."

E stared at K for a few seconds, wondering if her partner had gone just slightly insane (well, more insane than usual), but ultimately shook her head and sighed, realising that she would never really get the hang of reading him. "Right, right...mind if I stay the night before I go, though? I haven't slept in over forty-eight hours..."

"Be my guest," K said and shrugged, going back to his cleaning.

E nodded and headed for the comfortable-looking bed (though, in her state even a rockery filled with razor-sharp bits of glass and other stabby and pointy things would look appealing) and began to undress. She undid her bodice and slid off her weapon harness and disposed of _most_ of her weapons (one never knew when someone might attack, after all). "By the way," she said as she took off her shirt and slid out of her trousers. "I heard what you did to that little village. That's bloodthirsty, even for you."

"That wasn't me," K said calmly. "I tried to prevent it, but it was too late. By the time I got there it had already happened."

"Is that why you jumped the conclusion that our employers are planning something else as well?" she asked as she slid between the sheets, wishing that, at least for tradition's sake, that he had taken a peek at her while she undressed—but the bastard was as stoic as ever and respected her privacy. The _nerve_!

"Among other things, yes," K said. "But what happened at the hamlet just proves that you, I and our employers aren't the only ones looking for Sheik." He was keeping his eyes firmly on his weapons, to E's annoyance.

"Who else could be looking for him?"

"I do not know yet, but they are very skilled."

"I hate politics," E muttered, turning over so that she was facing the wall. She turned back again quickly enough, watching K carefully. "So...aren't you tired?" she asked.

"Exhausted," K replied.

"Why don't you join me, then?" she said, grinning. She lifted the duvet invitingly, making sure that it exposed her lack of clothes. "You're no good to our bosses if you're exhausted, after all."

K looked at her in silence for at least half a minute. Then, a slightly more unreadable expression than usual crossed his scarred face and he slowly approached the bed...

* * *

_**Two and a half weeks earlier...** _

His leg was pretty much a localised disaster area of pain. That much Link decided upon waking up. His neck wasn't much better off, and it was difficult to move his head without feeling like someone was wrenching it back and forth with about as much care as a drummer would show to his drumsticks (i.e. not a lot). The rest of his body wasn't all that comfortable either, but it was nothing compared to the first two At least he was lying in something soft, which he hoped wasn't a pile of manure—he'd had some unpleasant mornings during his travels.

Granted, the manure incident was not as bad as one of Sheik's—one time he'd woken up to a drunkard peeing on his head, at which point his lover had calmly and carefully informed said drunkard that unless he stopped doing it immediately he would remove a very precious body part and feed it to the pigs...which had frightened the drunkard enough for him to run off and tripping over his own dropped trousers. Sheik had later had Link swear never to tell anyone about it. Ever. On the pain of death. Why was he thinking about this? He didn't know—maybe it was to distract himself from the pain.

He tried to open his eyes, but it was difficult, and when he was finally able to do so, he found his vision just as blurry and unclear as it had been in the rain that night—

Everything came back to him in a rush, and he realised what had happened. He tried to sit up, but his body was heavy and refused to cooperate, leaving him to do a sort of halfway fish-like flopping in the bed. He growled and tried to reach for his sword, but it was nowhere to be found. He growled even louder and tried to crawl out of bed, but that only resulted in him tangling himself up in the sheets, producing what must surely have been a very entertaining sight for anyone who entered the room.

Which, of course, was just what happened at that exact moment. In hindsight, Link would come to call that his "typical, rotten luck".

"Oh, you're awake," a female voice said, sounding surprised.

Link remained silent, glancing at the blurry shape in the slight distance, unsure of how to react. He wasn't tied up, he wasn't in a dungeon, his wound had been bandaged up quite competently and he was in a very comfortable, very _large_ bed. He didn't seem to be a prisoner, but then...

"Are you alright? Do you need assistance, my lord?" the voice continued as its owner approached. The blurry figure was slim and wearing a simple, black dress (or that's what it seemed to be, anyway) and spoke with kindness.

"Where am I?" Link finally asked. "Who are you?"

"I apologise, my lord," the figure said, curtsying. "I am Marlotta, Countess of Urne. At your service. You are in my manor, Greenhill, in Cemeria, the biggest town in Urne."

"What happened?" Link didn't like asking these questions, but he was so confused about...well, pretty much everything, and this countess seemed happy to answer him.

"Ah, it will take some time to explain, I believe," Marlotta said. "May I sit?" she asked, pointing at what Link assumed to be a chair by the bed. He nodded, and she seated herself. "What do you remember?" she said.

"I remember everything up to the point where I was knocked out," Link said bitterly. "They were shooting at us, and Sheik went over the edge, and I tried to get there but they were too many and..."

"The...earl went over the edge?" Marlotta asked, stifling a gasp. "How awful. You're lucky General Agon came by with his men when he did..."

"What?"

"You were ambushed by rebels, my lord," Marlotta explained. "They were apparently planning to ambush the tax collector cart, and I can only assume that they attacked _you_ by mistake. The general tells me that he heard screaming and sent a few men of his to investigate. They found you laying the grass, in the process of being beaten up by several of the rebel scouts. You'd wounded two and killed one already, but they were too many, apparently. Agon attacked and drove off the rebels, realised who you were and had you brought here, where you could rest without the fear of being arrested."

"Why?" Link asked.

"Because neither you nor the earl is very popular in Lumina right now, I'm afraid," the countess said, sounding sad. "Everyone believes you were both responsible for the king's death. No, no, don't worry, I am not one of those who believe that rubbish," she added hurriedly upon Link's sudden intake of breath. "I've taken care of you and bandaged your wounds...you were in quite a state."

"How long have I been here?" Link rubbed his eyes, wishing they'd clear up. He wanted to take a look at this 'saviour' of his...

"Five days, more or less," Marlotta answered.

"Oh." That wasn't too long...

"But you've been unconscious for over a week, my lord."

"What?"

"Please, my lord, you are in no condition to move about so much—"

"The hell I am!" Link roared. "Sheik needs me! I've gotta find him and—argh!" He clutched his leg, which had flashed white-hot for a second. "I just have to get warmed up, s'all," he mumbled, closing his eyes.

"My lord, I have reason to believe that the rebels were using poisoned crossbow bolts," Marlotta said carefully. "We have tried our best to flush it out of your system, but it appears to be lingering in you still. Please, lie down, rest and wait until you can at least see straight before rushing off to save your friend."

"How'd you know I can't see?" Link asked, understanding that he was pretty much helpless at the moment.

"Because you keep looking in my general direction rather than _at_ me," Marlotta said kindly. "Also, they look unfocused, and you keep trying to blink nonexistent tears away. It's one of the effects of a fairly common herb here in Lumina. The rebels have been using them quite excessively lately..."

"How long until I'm well?" Link asked. There was something about Marlotta that just made him trust her. Maybe it was her voice—it was soft, kind and not all that unlike Zelda's when she was relieved. He knew he would be safe in her care, even if he didn't like being invalid. "How long until I can look for Sheik?" He was worried. The image of Sheik going over the edge like that with two quarrels in him... He'd lost Sheik once already—he wasn't prepared to have another go at that, not so soon...

"It will take a few more days for the poison to leave your system completely," Marlotta said, gently touching his shoulder, which he didn't mind. It reminded him of the way Sheik touched him when he was feeling ill. "And the wound in your leg will need a few weeks at the least, but don't worry; you're safe here. For all the prince—pardon me, the _king_ —knows, you're already out of Lumina and on your way home. And if it will ease your mind, I will send some of my men to look for the earl, how does that sound?"

"You would do that?" Link asked incredulously. What had he done to deserve this much luck at once? Were the Goddesses finally rewarding him for his service during the war in Hyrule?

"Of course, my lord," Marlotta said. "I will have them search the areas along the river where you last saw him first and then have them move further south, along the river. If the earl is there, my lord, they will find him."

"Thank you," Link said, sighing in relief. Fatigue was quickly overtaking him once again, and he was certain that he was going to fall asleep again very soon.

"I am only happy to help, my lord," the countess said. "Now, please rest. You will need it to heal. I shall leave you in peace. Do not hesitate to call for me or my servants if there is something you require."

"Thank you...and Countess?"

"Yes, my lord?"

Something was really bothering him about the way Marlotta spoke, and he needed to correct her _immediately_!

"Call me Link."

* * *

_**Three weeks later...** _

Victor was shaking in his throne, though Rial didn't know if it was from anger or something else. The king was staring woodenly at Rehm, who was standing with his head bowed slightly in a mock display of nonexistent shame. Oh, the old man put on a good show right enough, one that probably fooled the king, but Rial had seen through the crack in Rehm's armour, and what lay beneath was not pretty.

"What do you mean, _slaughtered_?" Victor asked slowly. "An entire hamlet is massacred, and you don't even have the slightest idea of _who_ did it?" He curled his hand into fists which continued to shake. "Rehm..."

"I apologise, your majesty," Rehm said with a sad tinge in his voice. "It was done in such a hurry and professional manner that it took us several days to even notice it had happened. The only clue we have is the message on the elder's door..."

Victor shuddered, remembering the details. "What could it mean?" he asked. "Does someone other than us want to capture the Sheikah?"

"Seems more like they're picking a fight to me," Rial said. "With that wording and with no additional message like _turn yourself in_ or _surrender and you won't be harmed_ underneath, it's clear that these guys are more interested in either beating the guy up or killing him. And considering the way the message was delivered...I'd say the latter is more likely."

"Of course, this is all speculation," Rehm added, shooting Rial the dirtiest look the captain had ever received—and he had gotten his fair share of dirty looks over the years. "General Agon and his men are investigating it as we speak. Do not worry, your majesty, the culprits will be found and they _will_ be punished."

 _Unless there's just_ one _culprit,_ Rial thought, realising that Victor was listening more intently to Rehm than himself, Rehm's mentioning of reopening Prison's Peak all but forgotten, it seemed. _Perhaps the Sheikah did it himself to once again deflect suspicion._ He shook his head. _No, the Sheikah is probably not even in Lumina anymore, having jumped the border soon after escaping from the castle. Someone who'd spotted him, then, and wished to settle some old grudge. But the Sheikah was not even eighteen...what kind of person could have a grudge against someone that young? But then again, the Sheikah_ is _an assassin... ¨_

Thinking about it made Rial's head hurt, and after realising that he was only going in circles with it, he abandoned the train of thought entirely and focused on something else Rehm had said. _General Agon, huh? Funny how his name seems to pop up in association with every single attack lately..._ Rial knew the man was a bloodthirsty bastard and not someone you really wanted to associate with at all and wanted as little to do with as possible, but Victor didn't seem to mind that he had been taking on such a large role as of late. He had to admit, the man _was_ effective and a capable leader. Rial knew that the general was currently dealing with three problems at once: He was fighting against mercenaries in Urne in coordination with Countess Marlotta, who had arrived in the city last night to state her case and plead for more reinforcements from Victor; he was investigating several ambushes of royal tax collector carts that had been happening all over Lumina lately and he was now trying to find the butcher of the little hamlet. In addition to this he was also responsible for security in Lumina City, stationing several garrisons of his troops all over the city.

Rial wondered why General Ranva hadn't been called in yet if resources were in such a demand—but then he remembered her role in the civil war and nodded to himself. He didn't agree with stationing her so far up north, away from everything that mattered, but he supposed that she had been lucky to escape with her head still attached to her neck after the stunt she pulled during the civil war. Why Robar had spared _her_ in particular while executing most of the remaining treasonous officers was something Rial had spent many an hour pondering, but no answer presented itself to him. What he _did_ know, however, was that all hell would break loose if she were to go rogue again.

"What do you think, Rial?" Victor asked.

Rial shook his head in an attempt to refocus on the situation. "Pardon?" he said, feeling the heat of shame on his cheeks when Victor simply gave him a helpless smile.

"I was wondering if you believe that General Agon is a wise choice to perform the investigation," Victor said, winking his blue eye at him.

"Well, I suppose so," Rial said, clearing his throat. Rehm was looking at him with a neutral expression, his comb-over epic as ever. "I mean, he is quite capable and his battlefield results are second to none...but isn't the good general being stretched a bit too thin, Rehm? I mean, he is already doing so much..."

"With the departure of General Mirn, Lumina lost one of its remaining three senior battlefield commanders," Rehm said. "General Agon and...the other one...remains, but King Robar, may his soul rest in eternal peace, made it quite clear that she was to remain in that camp until her dying day or retirement—whichever comes first. In short, we have no choice but to entrust Agon with this task."

"Very well," Victor said, nodding. "Inform the general of his new assignment immediately, but do tell him to take care not to overextend himself. An exhausted general is a useless general."

"He is currently enjoying some rest and relaxation here in the castle, your majesty," Rehm said, smiling. "I took the liberty of inviting him to stay the night considering the difficult task he has ahead of him."

"As well he should," Victor said. "If that is all...?"

"Yes, your majesty," Rehm said, bowing and quickly leaving the throne room, leaving Victor and Rial alone yet again. The young king leaned heavily against the back of the throne, his loose clothing making him look like he had suddenly shrunk.

"I'm worried, Rial," he said slowly, making the captain look at him curiously. "I fear I may have bitten off far more than I can chew..."

"I'm sure your father felt the same way when he took the throne," Rial said kindly. "It is not a simple task, rising to govern an entire kingdom, and—"

"It's not just that," Victor said, looking hesitant. "I've...put things into motion that I'm not sure if I can stop, Rial." He kept his eyes fixed on the door at the other end of the throne room. "I was unable to hold the earl and the Hero of Time in my custody, but succeeded in closing the border before—or hopefully, at least—they managed to cross it. So, in theory, I have two Hyrulians trapped, but am unable to find them."

"Perhaps it's just as well," Rial said, letting displeasure fill his voice. "The murderers cannot be allowed to escape." He _hoped_ the Sheikah was still in Lumina, for that meant that he himself had a chance to give the boy his comeuppance.

"I would be inclined to agree, Rial, if it wasn't for the politics involved..." Victor said, sighing. "This could cause...an international incident. When Princess Zelda finds out about this, she will take action no matter whether or not her own lands are in disarray. And she will certainly pull other kingdoms into this as well..."

"Then let's hope she won't find out," Rial said. "What she doesn't know can't hurt her, right?"

Victor chuckled mirthlessly. "A fine plan...if it hadn't been for the fact that Rehm dispatched a courier with a ransom letter to Hyrule the same night the Sheikah was captured. He should be about halfway to Hyrule right now, and we've no way of stopping him before it's too late and the princess has received the message."

Rial's brain had stopped cogitating the second the king had uttered the word _Ransom_. "Excuse me, Victor, but did I hear you correctly? You dispatched a _ransom letter_ the very same night your father was murdered?" He couldn't believe his ears.

Victor's eyes widened and he quickly rose from the throne. "No, no, no," he said hurriedly, descending from the platform and coming to a stop in front of Rial, making the captain very much aware of the more-than-slight height difference between them. Victor looked up at him with a frightened expression. " _I_ didn't send anything—Rehm did! He told me he saw the potential for some extra money in our coffers—and goodness knows we need it—and acted on his own accord. By the time he told me it was too late to stop it..."

Rial shook his head in disbelief. "Victor, may I be frank with you?" he asked.

"Of course," Victor said unhappily.

"Right." Rial took a few seconds to go through what he was going to say in his head and to force himself not to chicken out. "I don't like to say this, Victor, but you're giving Rehm _far_ too much leeway to do and say whatever he wants. I don't like the way he has been acting lately either, there's something off about him, and between this and the repeated mentioning of that-which-must-not-be-spoken-of, I get the feeling that he does not have your—or Lumina's—best interests at heart."

"Then...what am I supposed to do?" Victor asked, looking pleadingly at Rial. "He's the leader of the council and the most important man in the city beside myself. I can't just...fire him! Please, Rial, tell me what to do!"

Rial backed away, horrified at the request. "It is not my place to give the king orders," he said. "Only you can decide what to do."

"But I don't know _what_ to do!" Victor shouted, his face red with suppressed anger and desperation. "No matter what I do, no matter how many problems I solve, ten more spring up in their place! I can't even take a step without someone complaining about some stupid thing or another! I can't _breathe_ , Rial!" He sank to his knees, panting with his head down. When he raised it, Rial saw tears running down his cheeks. "I'm not ready for this, Rial..." he said quietly. "I'm not ready to be king. The nobles are right, I'm useless. I—"

"Stop that right now," Rial said, crouching down to Victor's level and placing a hand on the younger man's shoulder. "How long have we known each other?" he asked.

Victor sniffled, staring at him with confusion. "Er...at least ten years...why?"

"Because it means that I've known you since you were but a boy, Victor. I've seen how hard you've studied the thousands of lessons your father thought you would need. I've trained you in combat and tactics myself. I've seen how you handle angry nobles with incredible diplomacy. Believe me when I say this, your majesty: You are ready. You were _born_ ready. You are handling everything with the same competence your grandfather would have, and he would have been proud if he could see you now." Rial smiled and surprised even himself when he drew Victor into a spontaneous embrace. "The nobles are simply full of hot air, and they speak only lies." He felt Victor relax against him after a moment of hesitation, and he smiled inwardly. It felt _right_ to hold the king like this. "I would follow you into the fires of hell if you so asked me...My King."

_So please, tell me that you would do the same..._

* * *

Rial had no idea how long they had stayed like that, but he wouldn't trade it for anything in the world. Victor had excused himself to wash up after they had separated; realising that a king could not greet his guests with puffy eyes, and Rial had other duties to attend to. As he left the throne room and closed the door behind him, nodding for the guards that had been made to wait outside to go back in, he was surprised to find Rehm waiting for him at the top of the staircase in the grand hall. The man looked furious.

"Councillor," Rial said and gave a smart salute. All with the intention to mock, of course. _I'm keeping my eye on you, old man,_ he thought.

"Captain," Rehm replied. "Meddling with affairs that are not our own, are we?"

"Excuse me?"

"I think you will remember that attempting to manipulate the king comes with the hefty charge of treason and a swift execution," the old man said as he descended the stairs, raising his voice so that every guard in the vicinity could hear him. "After all, a man of the law such as yourself should be familiar with the penal code, correct?"

"Get to the point, councillor," Rial said, knowing that the guards around them— _his_ men—were more inclined to listen to him than Rehm.

"I _know_ what you are trying to do, captain," Rehm said as he reached the bottom of the staircase, marching up to stare into Rial's eyes. "You are trying to turn the king against me—a thoroughly unwise move as it is _I_ who am holding this utter mess of a kingdom together these days. I would be careful with what you say to the king in the future, if I were you, captain, or _something_ might happen to you..."

"Is that threat?" Rial asked, glaring at this...this old _fart_. He relaxed his hands and opened his palms—unseen by Rehm—and shook them slightly. The guards in the hall, who had all tensed up and started to reach for their weapons, relaxed again upon seeing the signal. There was no point in this escalating to violence just yet.

"No, merely a friendly reminder. Good day, captain," Rehm said, plastering a fake grin on his face and leaving the hall. As Rial stared after him, he saw Countess Marlotta waiting for the councillor in the ballroom. She cast a quick glance at Rial before they both disappeared behind a corner. Rial stared at the spot for a few seconds.

 _I think I will keep an even closer eye on you now, old man,_ he thought and went in the direction of the garrison. One of the men there owed him a favour, and he was calling it in...

* * *

**Soul Remnants  
Chapter 16**

* * *

Of all the things Rial had expected to be doing as the captain of the royal guard, climbing along rafters and crawling in dusty attics were last on his list. When he'd first joined the royal guard straight out of advanced training in the army, he had, at worst, expected parading around for the rest of his days and, at best, expected fighting off assassins and usurpers to the point where it became a daily and almost boring routine. The former had seemed most likely up until the night Robar had been murdered, but now...well, he found himself doing stranger and stranger things.

He definitely didn't trust Rehm anymore. There was just something about the man's demeanour that set off warning lights in his head. Granted, Rehm had always struck him as a bit on the suspicious side of things, but then again, nearly everyone did. Rial supposed he had to work on that particular aspect of his way of thinking, but that would have to wait until he found out just what the councillor was up to, because he was definitely not acting like a councillor should!

The first thing he'd done after the confrontation he'd had with the man in the grand hall, he'd found one of his men in the barracks, Sergeant Sid. He didn't have a last name (something to do with his religion or some rubbish like that, Rial believed) and just went by Sid. Sid had once been a spy if his stories were to be believed, and he knew just about everything there was to know about eavesdropping and listening in on conversations that, quite frankly, were none of his business, as many members of the royal guard found out when they discovered blackmail letters in their bunks with various demands. He'd yet to try blackmailing Rial, though, which was lucky for Sid. Not that Rial had anything to be blackmailed _with_ , of course, but still...

Sid had, naturally, taken to the idea of spying on the councillor immediately, especially after Rial invoked the favour the ex-spy owed him for a particularly embarrassing incident involving Sid, a rather irate noblewoman and her no-longer-pure-daughter, and a swashbuckling Rial coming to his rescue by distracting the woman with a rather interesting description of the punishment Sid would be receiving later that night. Everyone but the noblewoman had, of course, known that said daughter hadn't been pure _before_ Sid had been seduced by her, but Rial had picked a more diplomatic rule and simply let Sid off the hook after a stern talking-to about not sleeping with the members of the king's court. Unless they're really, really attractive, as one of the other guards had apparently added after Rial left. This man had later been slapped in the back of the head by an anonymous party who may or may not have been acting on Rial's orders.

So anyway, here he was, crawling on the extremely dusty floor of a long-forgotten attic somewhere in the middle of the castle. They had only been able to reach it by climbing along the exterior of the castle from balcony from balcony until they reached a hidden panel which the spy had deftly kicked open and swung himself inside. Rial's hands were caked in dust and other things he didn't want to know what was. The ceiling overhead, long ago lowered in order to make space for another floor in the castle, was so low that Rial couldn't raise his head a millimetre without slamming into it. On the whole, it felt more like they were crawling between floorboards than two _actual_ stories, but beggars couldn't be choosers.

"Are you _sure_ this is the right way?" Rial asked the darkness ahead. He only knew that Sid was there because of the man's grunting and groaning.

"Definitely, cap'n," Sid replied, his voice strained. "Been here many a time, I have."

"Why, exactly? You never answered that question," Rial said.

"Best seat in the buildin', cap'n," Sid answered, chuckling. "Council chamber's more entertainin' than the theatres downtown, especially when ol' Rehm gets his pantaloons in a twist. Should've seen 'im when Ise wanted to funnel tax funds into buildin' a homeless shelter when Rehm had envisioned a solid gold statue of the ol' king—rest his soul—in the square outside the treasury. The man can't handle someone disagreein' with 'im, is what I'm sayin'."

"You've been spying on the council?" Rial asked, pausing his scrabbling. He wasn't entirely sure if he was comfortable with that, because it sounded suspiciously close to treason...which, technically, he couldn't fault Sid for considering the fact that _he_ was going to spy on Rehm as well. "I'm pretty sure that's an offense..."

"Arrest me, cap'n, and I'll take you down with me," Sid said jokingly, but definitely with a hard edge that guaranteed that he'd do it.

"I haven't made it a habit of arresting my own men so far, Sid, and I'm not planning on starting either," Rial said and followed the man's voice. "Is it far?"

"Not much now," Sid said. "Hang on..."

A bright, tiny shaft of light suddenly appeared ahead of Rial, and Sid's face was lit up by it. He had pulled what looked like a wooden plug out of the floor, giving him an almost invisible peephole into the room below: the council chamber. Voices drifted up from chamber, and Rial recognised them immediately as he crawled closer to the hole.

"— _is proceeding too slowly. We must take action!"_ General Agon.

" _If anything, we are going too fast. He is bound to find out..."_ Lady Marlotta.

" _Quiet, both of you. There's a serious matter we need to discuss."_ Rehm.

Rial was not entirely unsurprised to hear, and moments later _see_ Agon in the chamber along with Marlotta and Rehm.

 _Figures he's involved too,_ Rial thought, still not sure of what exactly they were involved _in_ , but that was what he was here to find out, wasn't it?

They were sitting evenly spaced around the large, round table the council used. One could have drawn a perfect triangle between them, as if they disliked even being _around_ each other. Rehm was, of course, sitting in his permanently assigned spot as the leader of the council. Agon was glowering at Marlotta, who was glaring right back, and Rehm had an exasperated look on his face as he glanced between the two.

"Can you please set aside your differences for now and listen carefully?" Rehm said. "We have a serious problem on our hands."

"I could say the same," Marlotta said, not taking her eyes off Agon. "This brute paid the mercenaries to go too far. Several villages in my county have been sacked!"

"You said you wanted it to look realistic," Agon protested. "Mercenaries don't just frolic about in the countryside when they're attacking someone, you know. They burn, rape and kill. Don't you think the king would have found it a bit suspicious if a mercenary army was attacking his kingdom by standing around peacefully?" He snorted. "If anything, I'm paying the mercenaries to go just the right distance!"

"Shut up, both of you!" Rehm thundered, his face growing redder than a tomato. He realised what he was doing and regained his composure within seconds, clearing his throat softly and adjusting the sleeves of his robes. "While I do agree with Marlotta on the fact that you are perhaps being a bit overzealous, general, I must also agree with _you_ on the fact that things must be realistic. I trust the mock battles are the same?"

Rial and Sid glanced at each other, mouthing the words "Mock battles?"

"Very much so, councillor," Agon said respectfully. "No one would be able to tell the difference between them and real battles."

It was strange, hearing the bloodthirsty General Agon speak to Rehm with such respect; the kind of respect he had usually only reserved for the king.

"Excellent, but do try to limit any pillaging to a minimum," Rehm said, clearing his throat again. "Now, back to the point I even called this meeting for to begin with: we have a problem on our hands, and that problem's name is Rial Vortan."

Rial leaned in closer to hear better. On one hand, he was thrilled to find out that he was being an utter pain in Rehm's ancient arse, but he was also worried about why he was being singled out.

"The captain of the royal guard?" Marlotta asked. "The young man you spoke with before meeting with me?"

"The very same," Rehm said and nodded. "He has always been difficult to deal with it, partly due to his loyalty to his highness, but he seems to have taken his dislike for me an extra step after Victor became king."

"How so?" Agon asked.

"He seems to be actively working against every suggestion I make before the king," Rehm said bitterly. "I had nearly convinced his highness of the wisdom in reopening the mines in Prison's Peak when he neatly swooped in and made him not only renew and re-establish the importance of the royal decree, but also strengthen the Silver Guard!"

"That is indeed a problem," Marlotta said, worried.

"He also argued against putting you, dear general, in charge of investigating the ghastly massacre of the hamlet to the south," Rehm continued.

"I've been wondering about that," Marlotta said, raising an inquisitive eyebrow. "Which one of you did _that_? I just don't understand the purpose of it..."

Rehm and Agon gave her equally confused looks. "I was certain that one of you were responsible," Rehm said slowly, looking at Agon, who shook his head. "Are you saying that...we have a third party working against us?"

"The Sheikah?" Agon ventured.

"Could be," Rehm said, nodding. "I have already made sure that the assassins are searching for him high and low, however—it shouldn't be long before he is found. But I'm sure you will find out who is responsible once you've started your investigation, won't you, general?"

 _So, Rehm's hired assassins to catch the assassin?_ Rial thought. _Interesting._

"Of course, councillor," Agon said.

"Right then, back to Captain Vortan," Rehm said. "We need to figure out how to deal with him. He will most certainly ruin our plans for Lumina if he is allowed to influence the king much longer."

"Kill him?" Marlotta said, causing Rial to choke on his own saliva. He struggled against his body's natural reaction of coughing, assisted by Sid who held a hand in front of his mouth. "Make it look like the king was the original target and blame an assassin? Surely that would remove the problem?"

"Too much death by assassination has occurred within this castle lately for that to seem likely," Rehm said. "And I believe the rest of the royal guard will become suspicious no matter what way the unfortunate captain would shuffle off his mortal coil."

"Have a serious 'talk' with him, then?" Agon suggested. "Make him stay out of matters that are beyond his ken."

"I already did," Rehm said. "I don't believe it had any effect."

 _You're damn right it didn't!_ Rial thought, his coughing subsiding slowly. Sid gave him a worried look, which he returned. What on earth was going on here? What were they planning?

"Then what _can_ we do?" Marlotta asked. "Apart from arranging an 'accident' that would leave him unfit for duty...or worse."

Rehm looked silently at them both for over a minute before sighing and shaking his head. "I don't think asking you two is going to net me any solutions to this problem," he said and rose from his chair. "I shall simply have to deal with him on my own. Meeting adjourned." With that said, Rehm quickly left the room. Marlotta and Agon stared astonished after him, but neither protested at the rather disrespectful way the councillor had treated them both. After a minute or so, Agon too rose and left the room, and Marlotta followed a few minutes after.

Sid and Rial stared down at the room. "What t'hell was that about?" Sid asked, giving Rial a confused look. "What'd you do to piss off Rehm, cap'n?"

"I gave him a stern talking-to, similar to the one I gave you," Rial said, still shaken by the casual suggestion of killing him that Marlotta had made. "But I didn't realise it was going to give me a death sentence!"

"Something's goin' on, cap'n," Sid said gravely. "And I don't like it."

"Me neither, Sid, me neither."

* * *

A couple of hours later, Rial found himself stalking the corridors of the castle after cleaning himself up, the voices of the three conspirators echoing in his head. They were definitely up to something grand, that much was obvious, but _what_? As far as Rial knew, they were all a hundred percent devoted and loyal to Lumina and its king, but now it seemed that they were trying to work against Victor. Rehm in particular was even trying to _manipulate_ him. Rial couldn't have that. He wouldn't stand for it. But he couldn't tell Victor either, not yet. He didn't have any proof, and accusing someone of treason without proof...well, that usually ended up with the accuser being hoisted by their own petard and accused of treason themselves.

 _I need proof,_ Rial thought. _But what and where can I find it?_ He didn't have the authority to search their private bedchambers, and he knew for a fact that Agon had posted soldiers of his own to guard his and his fellow conspirators' privacy. However, the conspirators themselves walked around freely, though they kept themselves away from each other except for when meeting for meals. So, he couldn't search their chambers and he couldn't tell Victor yet. There was only one solution: direct confrontation.

He'd already assigned Sid and a few other men under his command to keep an eye on Rehm and Marlotta, but Agon had been left alone for now—mostly because Rial had a feeling he'd notice that he was being kept an eye on. The man was terrifying enough in person, but if Rial caught him off-guard...

He found the general in the deserted library in the ruined section of the castle. Every single one of the large tomes and books that had once littered the shelves of the gigantic room had been removed and, apparently, taken to be restored. Robar had ordered it just before his death, apparently, though no one understood why. Agon was studying a large portrait of one of the ancient kings of Lumina that still dominated the wall just above the cast iron spiral staircase that led to the second floor. It was an ugly portrait, but had been allowed to hang there for; you guessed it, _tradition_ 's sake. It had always hung there and so it shall remain or some nonsense like that.

Rial's boots made an unholy racket as he ascended the staircase, causing the general to turn around with a suspicious look on his face which was quickly cleared away when he saw who the newcomer was.

"Ah, Captain Vortan," he said and extended a hand for a friendly handshake. Rial took it, hiding a wince as the general's hand nearly crushed his. "It has been a while since we've spoken properly, hasn't it?"

"Yes, general," Rial said. "An unfortunate consequence of the recent...upheavals."

"Hmph," Agon grunted. "Robar's death was a damn shame. I loved the man like a father, you know. "

 _And you're a damn liar,_ Rial thought, nodding and smiling. "As did we all, I believe," he said. "A great man. A great king." _And now_ I'm _a damn liar. Funny how that works._

"And now we are facing trouble on all fronts," Agon continued, turning back to the portrait. "Mercenaries in Urne, rebels in the east and bandits to the west...the only place that hasn't come under any sort of siege is the north, and I have a feeling that's only because of the Silver Guard."

"And thank heavens for that," Rial said, knowing it was a sore spot for the general—or so he assumed from the meeting he'd listened in on. "The last thing we need is someone rooting around Prison's Peak and upsetting the guards there."

The Silver Guard was a largely elite force of soldiers charged with the protection of Prison's Peak and the surrounding areas. Members were voluntarily drafted from the regular Luminan army and trained in all manners of combat and diplomacy. They were all forced to learn the complex systems of tunnels that ran through the mountains there and every single way to counteract an attack on the fortress that blocked the path of anyone who wanted to enter the mountains themselves. Due to the nature of the training and the secrets they were asked to keep, members of the Silver Guard remained members until their deaths. They were rarely allowed to leave the frozen north, and even then it was only to pay short visits to pre-existing families—they were not allowed to marry or have children after becoming full members. It was a form of security to ensure that the men and women would remain at their posts even if an all-out war broke out in Lumina. Prison's Peak had to be protected at all costs.

"True, true," Agon said, nodding. Rial caught the false sincerity in his voice however and smiled inwardly. He was definitely on to something here. "They're a terrifying force to trifle with."

"Almost makes one wish they had a garrison or two down here as well, eh?" Rial said.

"I don't trust them enough for that," Agon said, sounding annoyed. "They're great for defending a mountain, but I wouldn't put my life in their hands if we were on a real battlefield."

 _Real like the ones you've been fighting on in Urne, general?_ Rial thought viciously, barely able to keep himself from saying it out loud. "I'm sure they'd be capable there too."

"Hmph," Agon grunted again. "Tell me, captain..."

"Yes?"

"Have you ever thought of becoming a field officer? I heard you did excellently in tactical training during your time in the regular army. I'm sure I could have a use for someone like you in my reconnaissance unit."

"Ah, no, I haven't, actually," Rial said. A sinking feeling had made its presence known in his stomach. _You're going to try and have me killed on the battlefield, aren't you?_ he thought. _Make it look like an enemy act rather than murder?_ "And to be honest, I don't much like the idea of leaving his highness without a protector—it is a lifetime's position, being his bodyguard."

"Right," Agon said, sounding disappointed. "That's a pity—I have a feeling you'd be quite an asset in Urne."

 _Collateral damage, more like,_ Rial thought. The time for diplomacy was over, he decided, and put a hand on the hilt of his sword, noticing that the general wasn't even looking at him at the moment. He wasn't wearing armour, but he had considerable bulk in the form of big, strong muscles honed by years of military training and warfare. Rial, who was by no means a slouch himself, became relatively tiny in comparison. He needed to take Agon by surprise.

He silently drew his sword, thanking the smith who had made his hilt for making it completely silent. He held the blade in a reverse-grip, pointing the tip down. He couldn't make any mistakes, or Agon would probably kill him right then and there. Rial breathed in and out three times before speaking again. "Is treason a part of a normal day for you, general?" he asked.

"What?" Agon said, turning around quickly, only to find Rial's hand around his throat. Rial pushed him back against the wall the portrait hung on, quickly bringing the edge of his sword to Agon's throat, just below his other hand which he used to keep the general in place. "What is the meaning of this, captain?" Agon demanded, fury shining in his eyes.

"I think you know exactly what it is," Rial whispered dangerously. "I couldn't help but overhear a little meeting between you, Rehm and Marlotta, discussing mock battles and the like..."

"You...you've been spying on us?" Agon sounded outraged, as if Rial's crime outweighed his own in some hypothetical, abstract and absolutely absurd way. "How dare you?"

"I investigate every threat to my king and country," Rial said, tightening his grip on Agon's throat. The only reason the general hadn't pummelled his comparatively tiny frame into oblivion yet was the sword at his Adam's apple. "I had reason to believe Rehm was a liability—and I was right, but I also caught you two. That's three birds with one stone, general."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Agon said, grunting again. "We were merely discussing how to bolster the kingdom's security—agh!"

"Bullshit," Rial said. "What kind of security meeting includes talk of hiring assassins and mercenaries and staging fake battles? What kind of security meeting includes discussions about killing the _head of security in the castle_?" Rial bared his teeth at the general. "Oh yes, I heard that too."

"You must be tired, captain," Agon said in a barely restrained tone. "I think you've been working too hard and are now hearing things."

"Playing the dumb one, eh?" Rial said. "That doesn't surprise me. You've been acting very well for years now." He slammed Agon into the wall once more. "Let me give you a warning, general," he said and leaned in closer. "I don't know what you're up to, but I'm going to find out. And when I do...not even his highness will be able to forgive you. Treason is a very serious crime, and I intend to see every instance of it punished severely." With that he abruptly let the general go, spun around and descended the spiral staircase. The general glared after him, but said nothing. Rial had a design he intended to execute...

"We shall see who is punished first, captain," Agon muttered darkly after Rial had slammed the door as he left. He waited a couple of minutes before leaving the library to search for Rehm. Already a plan was forming in his head...

* * *

"Right," Rial said at the guards gathered around him in the barracks. These were the men he trusted the most in the guard, and he knew for a fact that they were loyal to him and the king. "I've gathered you all here because I'm changing the guard rotation with immediate effect."

The men (and women) grumbled with annoyance, but none of them said anything as they knew that Rial wouldn't be doing it without good reason. A small table with a complete map of the castle's interior had been placed in the middle of the room. Sid looked at Rial from across it.

"What's goin' on, cap'n?" he asked. "Found out more about the...you know?"

"Yes," Rial said, nodding knowingly. "I've just become aware of a possible threat to the king," he announced to the rest of them. There were thirty in all. "I cannot reveal its nature to you just yet—not before I am certain of all the details—but it's because of this threat that I am changing the schedule. I need guards I know I can _trust_ —you, in other words—in key positions, and I need you in them fast."

"Are you expectin' an attack?" Sid ventured, becoming the spokesperson of the group, apparently.

"Something like that," Rial mumbled. "As I said, I am not sure of the details yet, but it doesn't hurt to deploy in advance."

The guards knew him. Trusted him. They would do as he told them without question. They listened quietly as Rial assigned them positions before saluting and heading for their spots, relieving the guards already there. Only Sid remained in the room after Rial was done.

"You didn't tell _me_ where to go, cap'n," he said, scratching his carefully maintained strip of hair on his chin. It looked ridiculous.

"I need you to keep an eye on everyone, Sid," Rial said. "Make sure they're doing their jobs; keep a lookout for any suspicious behaviour from anyone, even our own guards."

"You don't trust your own men?"

"With the exception of you and the twenty-nine who just left?" Rial asked. "No. Not at the moment. Agon holds a lot of sway with the general soldiery of Lumina—I don't want him to pull the rug out from under me."

"Excuse me for sayin' so, cap'n, but you're startin' to sound a _wee bit_ paranoid." Sid grinned. "Not that I'm not paranoid myself, of course, but still..."

"I'd rather be paranoid than dead," said Rial.

"Aye, that I can agree with."

Rial nodded. "Make no mistake, sergeant, those three _are_ plotting against the king in a manner I am not sure of yet, but I'm not going to sit back and wait for them to reveal themselves. Agon leaves with his men tomorrow morning, but until then I want him watched."

"Thy will be done, cap'n," Sid said grinning and left the room, leaving Rial alone as an overwhelming feeling of exhaustion came over him. He'd been up since three that morning, and it was definitely wearing him down at the moment. He just needed to lie down for a bit, close his eyes for a few seconds...

* * *

" _Cap'n! Cap'n! Wake up!"_

Sid's voice sounded distant and muffled, but as he emerged from the murky waters of deep sleep, he realised something was wrong. Sid's face and uniform were covered in blood. Blood that wasn't his own. He had his sword in his other hand, which was also covered in crimson stains.

"Cap'n!"

"Sid, what's going on?" Rial asked, entering the aware and awake mode of operation that any soldier masters within a few weeks of basic training. The ability to go from dead-asleep to fully awake is valuable when anything can happen at any time. Sid's teeth were gritted.

"We're under attack, cap'n, just like you said!" the sergeant said. The other guards sleeping in the barracks had already been roused by Sid and were arming themselves hurriedly.

"Who?" Rial demanded as he began to refasten the clasps of his armour and weapons.

"Agon, cap'n," Sid exclaimed. "The bastard just marched half of his city garrison into the castle and began killin' every guard he saw! I barely made it here to warn you!"

"Son of a bitch!" Rial shouted and drew his sword, looking at the guards around him. They all trusted him. They all listened to him. Agon was staging a coup, that son of a bitch! He was supposed to have more time than this! "Everyone on me," he announced as everyone drew their weapons. "To the king!"

"To the king!"

They burst out of the barracks, spilling into the castle corridors. This part of the castle hadn't been attacked yet, but as they drew closer and closer to the grand hall more bodies of royal guards began littering the corridors, occasionally joined by the bodies of Agon's men. Rial tried not to look at them, swearing to avenge their deaths under his breath.

A large group of Agon's blue-clad soldiers were waiting for them in the grand hall, barely letting the guards enter before launching a volley of deadly arrows at point-blank range. Rial barely managed to throw his shield up in time to narrowly avoid taking an arrow to his eye—several of his men weren't so lucky, screaming in pain as they fell to the floor.

"Kill the traitors!" the soldiers shouted as they drew their swords and charged at the recovering guards.

 _Wait, traitors?_ Rial found himself thinking just before the lines collided. And then all he could think of was the smell of blood in the air and the screams of battle. One of Agon's soldiers tried to skewer him with a spear, but Rial simply dropped his shield, grabbed the spear to pull the soldier in close and returned the favour with his sword. Another tried to slash at his legs from behind, but he spun around and took the enemy's head clean off. Another arrow whistled right by his ear, striking a guard close to him. Rial was about to head after the archer when he saw Sid sneak up on her from behind and slash her throat with a wicked-looking knife with a serrated edge. Ignoring his sudden burning need to reprimand the sergeant for his use of non-regulation equipment, he threw himself into the melee once more.

The soldiers were no match for the royal guards, who had all been recruited from the most skilled ranks of the general army. Rial himself had little combat experience, but he'd been trained by the best, and the Agon's soldiers clearly hadn't. Ten minutes after the guards had entered the grand hall, the bodies of thirty soldiers and fourteen guards littered the floor, most of the latter having been felled by the initial rain of arrows.

"To the throne room!" Rial shouted, unable to look at the bodies of his men for more than a few seconds. "Protect the king!" His men followed with a roar.

The throne room was empty save for more bodies and a few of Agon's soldiers. They were quickly dispatched with extreme prejudice.

"What the hell is going on?" Rial said quietly, his heart racing with worry for Victor. Agon couldn't have killed him. He _couldn't_ have. He'd _better_ not have, or Rial would put the man through such endless misery that could it could only rival the punishment of the Enlightened One after his crusade against the—

"Cap'n!" Sid shouted, rousing him from his thoughts. "What do we do now?"

"We have to find the king!" he announced. He quickly counted his remaining guards. Thirty-three. He didn't know where the rest of them were—either dead or fighting in other parts of the castle, most likely. "Split up into two parties. Sid, you lead one, I'll lead the other. Find his majesty and protect him with your lives! Is that understood?"

"Yes, sir!" was the reply.

"Go!"

Rial felt like he was going to throw up as he and his part of the force ran tore through the hallways of the castle, killing every single one of Agon's men as they found them. Agon was a good general, yes, but even his soldiers could not stand against a pissed-off royal guard who'd been separated from their king.

But then they encountered a major force at one of the junctions close to the ruined part of the castle, and they were ground to a halt as they desperately fought against the numerically superior enemies.

Rial dodged a clumsy—almost amateurish—blow from a young man who had no business in being there and slammed his fist into his face, hoping to knock him out rather than kill him. Traitor or not, Rial wasn't prepared to kill someone who was practically a child. The young man stumbled backwards and disappeared among the fighting bodies around them. Rial caught movement from his right in his peripheral vision and stepped aside as an enemy soldier threw a heavy overhead blow that missed by inches. Rial quickly dispatched him with a three-strike combo to his thigh, shoulder and chest. It didn't feel good. He was fighting against his own countrymen!

"Cap'n!" Sid's voice rang out above the sounds of fighting. "We found th' king! The library! Agon's got 'im!" He and his men had emerged from the other side of the junction and were throwing themselves into battle as well.

Rial made his way to the ex-spy along with five other guards. "On me!" he shouted and led the six in the direction Sid had come from. It was suicidal, taking so few men with him, but he couldn't leave Victor alone for another minute!

 _Of course,_ Rial thought. _It had to be the library! Trying to make a point, Agon?_

The sounds of fighting behind them grew quieter just as the sounds of _another_ fight grew louder ahead of them. More guards and soldiers were fighting in the corridor leading to the large double doors of the library, but the guards were losing. The last one was stabbed to death by three soldiers just as Rial and the others came within range. Rial and his men paused, however, the second they spotted Agon standing in the doorway...along with Victor. Rehm hovered behind them.

"Well, well, well," Agon said loudly, motioning his soldiers to draw back a little, revealing the floor to be littered with the bodies of royal guards who'd been caught unaware. Their weapons hadn't even been drawn. "If it isn't the leader of the traitors himself!"

Victor looked at Rial with a shocked expression. "R-Rial?" he asked quietly. "What are...what are you doing?" His eyes were filled with so much hurt that it stung Rial to see it.

"Let him go, Agon!" Rial shouted, trying to focus on what was happening, even if he didn't understand it. "Let him go and I might make your execution swift and painless!"

"Let him go so that you can finish your coup d'état and take control of Lumina?" Agon barked. "I don't think so!"

"What?" Rial exclaimed. " _You're_ the one who attacked my troops!"

"Only to defend his majesty from them," Agon countered. "How low can you sink, captain? Sending your men to kill his majesty in his own throne room—it's abhorrent! You're supposed to be his protector, captain, and this is how you choose to perform your duty? By trying to usurp the throne?"

"Rial..." Victor said again, eyes shining with unshed tears. "How could you do this?"

"I...I..." Rial's tongue was paralysed. The sight of his king looking at him with such betrayal in his eyes...it was unbearable.

"Silence, traitor!" Rehm shrieked from behind them. "Agon!"

"Kill the traitors!" Agon shouted. "Punish them immediately!"

The doors on either side of the library opened, and more soldiers poured in, having waited for the signal. Soon, over fifty soldiers were standing between the library and Rial and his six men.

"Beg your pardon, cap'n," Sid said slowly as the soldiers began to approach. "But this ain't a fight we can win."

Rial gritted his teeth, keeping his eye on Victor over the heads of the approaching soldiers. He couldn't run. He _couldn't_. He couldn't leave the king alone with these vultures. He gripped his sword tighter and began to take a step forwards, but Sid's hand on his shoulder stopped him.

"Don't be foolish, cap'n!" the sergeant hissed. "Gettin' yourself killed here won't accomplish anythin'!"

"To the king!" someone shouted from behind them, and the remaining royal guards charged from the rear. There were so few of them left—all of them covered in wounds and bleeding profusely, staining the marble floor red. They charged past Rial and slammed into the soldiers, fighting with such intensity that the soldiers had to fall back a little before redoubling their efforts. One of the guards paused by Sid. "Get the captain out of here!" he shouted before joining the fray.

Rial had frozen completely. Between watching his men get cut down by the grinning soldiers and the look of betrayal he was getting from Victor, it was like he had shut down completely. Sid and the others began to pull him back from the line, urging him down a series of corridors he couldn't remember, down the stairs and into the dungeons.

"Quick, the sewers," someone said as a grate was lifted from the floor and Rial was pushed down into it, the others following quickly.

"We have t'get out of th' city," Sid said. "Follow me—I know the way!"

Rial didn't even notice their trek through the stinking sewers, didn't notice the angry banter between Sid and the guards and their oaths to mutilate Agon and his men in the name of their fallen comrades.

"Good thing they've neglected to weld the sewers shut," said one of the guards.

"Good thing _I_ told 'em not to, more like," Sid said. "It never hurts t'have more than one escape route, I always say."

Rial didn't rejoin the world of the living before they were heading through the city gates, hurrying past the bewildered-looking faces of the officials working there, who had clearly not been told about what was happening at the castle. He shook his head. "What the hell happened back there?" he asked.

"We were framed, cap'n," Sid said, patting his shoulder. "Agon pulled a fast one and made us out t'be traitors." He had sent the other five remaining guards to get some horses. They needed to get out of there as quickly as possible.

"That son of a bitch," Rial cursed, growling. "I'll kill him!" He turned back towards the gates, but Sid quickly got in his way.

"Cap'n, there's nothin' we can do in our current state," he reminded him. "We're all wounded, we've got no support...we're alone, cap'n!"

"Then what do we do?" Rial shouted.

"We pull back, regroup and figure out somethin'," Sid said calmly. "If we can only find a safe place to hide out..."

Rial looked up at the city gates. Before long, the cannons on the wall would sound in alert and they'd be hunted down by more of Agon's soldiers. He desperately wanted to go back into the castle get Victor, but he knew that would be impossible. _I should've known something like this was going to happen,_ he thought, biting his lip. _And now Victor thinks I've betrayed him...damn Agon!_ They couldn't go back inside, but they couldn't stay there either, and the only place Rial knew of where he could possibly be hidden was...

"I know a place we can go," he told Sid. The others returned with seven horses and they mounted up. "Follow me."

As they rode off into the distance, flanked by the roars of firing cannons, only one thought echoed through Rial's head.

_I'll be back, Victor. I'll be back for you. And nothing will be able to stand between us again!_

* * *

**Soul Remnants  
Chapter 17**

* * *

The sun rose over the cliffs, shining down upon the sparkling lake. Crickets began to chirp, certainly aware of their imminent demise as the nasty fall weather was moving in to claim the land for a few months before the harsh winter more or less temporarily killed it. The wooden bridge floated on the water, gently bobbing on the miniscule waves, creaking in protest whenever its sections began to meander in different directions. There was a chill in the air, and frost covered the ground that the sun had not yet touched. The Angen Inn was still nestled among the shadows of the cliffs, its inhabitants sleeping peacefully. Most of them, anyway.

Behind the inn itself, in the small backyard between the cliff wall and the building, Sheik was rehabilitating himself. Or, as Link would probably have said, working himself half to death in order to make up for the strength he'd lost while bedridden. His right arm and stomach had made full recoveries from the bolts that had been lodged in them, but his left arm was a different story altogether. It was bad enough that he'd lost two fingers on his left hand, but when he had finally been allowed out of the rack that prevented him from doing more damage to the arm, he'd found to his horror that he was barely able to lift his backpack, much less a weapon. He'd taken a long, hard look at the now—in his opinion—useless limb and decided that something had to be done. And so Angen and Jeryd had helped him fashion weights out of scrap iron which he was now lifting almost constantly in order to get back the strength he'd lost.

He also did calisthenics to keep the rest of himself in a somewhat acceptable shape. He had also tried to run a few laps around the lake to keep an eye on his condition, but Angen had put a stop to that since he still did not think Sheik well enough to put that much of a strain on himself. Jeryd, of course, supported the older man on this, much to Sheik's annoyance. But he could see the wisdom in it and bore with it...

He grunted as he lifted the weight for the two-hundredth time that morning, groaning in agony and dropping it. It made a hollow clanking sound as it hit a discarded anvil and rolled away in the dirt.

Sheik sat panting on the steps to the backroom of the inn, rubbing his arm. It had gone numb after the first hundred repetitions or so. But it was most certainly working—the definition was coming back, and he felt stronger every day, not to mention sore as hell, which was, as he'd been taught, always a good sign when trying to build muscle.

He looked up at the sky, watching a cloud drifting lazily by, and sighed. He wondered when he was going to be allowed to leave the inn. Between them, Angen and Jeryd made a terrifying team of pseudo-doctors who, on more than one occasion, had more or less strapped Sheik to his bed in order to keep him from rushing off to search for Link. He was more than confident that the Hero was doing fine—it would take a lot more than a simple crossbow to take down Link after surviving a fight against Ganondorf—but he did not enjoy having no clue whatsoever of his whereabouts. He had tried calling for Kaiza more than once, but the falcon was simply gone. He had a feeling she'd gotten bored with the city and left to find more entertaining locales (preferably one with lots of mice and smaller birds to eat), but Sheik had never had to whistle more than thrice to get her attention.

And there was another source of worry: what had happened to Epona, Maladict and Shun? Something had absolutely _terrified_ the horses during their escape through the forest, and Sheik knew for a fact that it hadn't been the crossbowmen. Epona and Maladict had practically become warhorses during...well, the war, and Shun...Shun was simply an entity that stared fear in the eye and decided it wasn't worth the bother. Sheik supposed a really strong magic user could, in theory, generate such a feeling of power that the horses had picked up on it and simply decided that anywhere was better than there, even leaving behind their masters, but that was impossible since Sheik hadn't felt anything himself.

So, he was five companions short, all of them unaccounted for. His breathing having finally calmed down, he sighed again and leaned back against the door, closing his eyes. "I hope you're alright," he said quietly. "All of you. As soon as I'm done here...I'm coming to find you."

Jeryd chose, of course, that exact moment to open the door. Sheik gave a surprised yelp as he suddenly tipped over backwards, but he quickly regained his composure and turned what would have been an embarrassing fall into a gracious backwards roll that brought him to his feet with his back to Jeryd. Or so he'd planned, anyway. He hit a tiny snag as he stumbled over the heel of his boots and ended up practically falling into the arms of Jeryd, who had to hide a grin.

"You alright?" he asked.

"I'm fine," Sheik said, shrugging out of the human's grip with an annoyed huff. "Just miscalculated a bit, that's all."

"Right," Jeryd said, nodding. He noticed the hand weight lying in the backyard. "It's not even seven in the morning and you're already training?"

"Naturally," Sheik said. "In fact, I overslept today. I should have been up at five."

Jeryd let out a low whistle. "That's...impressive. No, not impressive, I meant _insane_. You're pushing yourself way too hard."

"Such is the duty of a Sheikah," Sheik said, noticing with hidden amusement the sudden change that had come over the human's demeanour the second he mentioned the name of his people. Jeryd always had an eerie look of alertness about him, but when the Sheikah were mentioned...it only intensified. He soaked up every little bit of information Sheik had on his people, acting like an eager historian whenever he was allowed to ask questions. He was quite like Link in that regard, in fact. "It is all about pushing ourselves to the outermost limits of what we can take physically, psychologically, emotionally...and then pushing even harder."

"Doesn't sound like a lot of fun," Jeryd said, crossing his arms with a frown on his face.

"It isn't," Sheik confirmed. "But it isn't supposed to be, either. We are assassins, spies, bodyguards...none of them are particularly cheerful occupations, are they?"

"Fair enough," Jeryd said. "But surely there are things you do with your spare time that are fun?"

"There are," Sheik said. "Activities vary, but personally I've always enjoyed music, both the listening to and the playing of."

"Hence the lyre on the chair next to your bed," Jeryd said, grinning. "I've been wondering if I could ever hear you play it..."

"I'd be happy to—"Sheik began, interrupting himself mid-sentence as he reminded himself of the state of his hand. "Er...I mean, I'd be happy to as soon as I get accustomed to my lack of, er, digits..."

"Ah, oh, yes," Jeryd said, looking away in embarrassment. "I'm sorry," he said quietly.

"Don't be," Sheik said, shaking his head. "It...it is something I must get used to. I'm sure it will be but a minor inconvenience in the immediate future and no more than a small detail of my physical description once I'm back to full strength." He purposefully didn't mention his instrument, wondering if he'd even be able to play it anymore. He hadn't dared to pick it up, not even when Angen had removed the cast around his arm, scared of what would happen if he was unable to use it. Music was one of the few pleasures Sheik had in life, and if he were to be denied that...

Sheik shook his head again to banish the thoughts of never being able to create beautiful melodies together with Link again and refocused on the conversation and Jeryd, noticing that the human was using that strange stance of his again—the one that had him prepared for a fight-or-flight moment at any time. It seemed to be his default way of standing, Sheik had noticed, and he had thrown away all pretence of Jeryd being anything other than a trained...warrior? Fighter? No, Jeryd didn't have the bulk or physical appearance of someone who engaged in combat regularly. A spy, then, or possibly an assassin.

He entertained the idea of asking Jeryd right then and there about how he came to possess the skills he employed, but decided against it when he realised that as long as he was still weak, he was more or less at the mercy of the human, and that getting on his bad side would be most inadvisable.

Jeryd smiled. "I'm sure you'll be back in shape before you know it," he said. "You've already made tremendous progress in a matter of weeks, which is a miracle considering the amount of injuries you've sustained."

"I heal quickly," Sheik said, storing his suspicions about the human in the back of his mind, where they would stew gently until Sheik found an opportune moment to grill him a bit. He walked past Jeryd and through the door behind him, entering the main hall of the inn. Jeryd didn't follow him.

Angen had a tavern on the ground floor which did not see many guests these days. At most, a pair of road-weary travellers came by during the evenings to wet their whistles and grab something to eat before continuing their journeys. And seeing just two guests in such a grand hall as Angen's was a pitiful sight, for the inn was beautiful.

Hand-carved images donned the wooden walls, depicting major battles, animals and other typical subjects. A pair of huge iron chandeliers with fifty candles in each lit up the room with a pleasant ambience that encouraged relaxation and interaction with other guests, who were seated on rough-yet-comfortable chairs without backs around long and high tables made from strong oak. There were no single tables in Angen's tavern—you were either one with the mass, or you weren't even there. The ceiling was lined with bags of straw to dampen the noise, ensuring that the guests on the second floor could sleep undisturbed. At the far end of the room, directly opposite the massive doors, there was a huge bar, behind which Angen spent most of his time when he wasn't cleaning or smoking a large pipe he brought out every now and then.

Several stools had been placed in front of the bar, and Sheik sat on one of them, propping his elbows up on the bar, which was also made from oak and varnished to shine brightly in the light from the chandeliers.

Sheik sighed. His head was an utter mess these days. Too much had happened in too little time with far too few explanations and answers. No matter how hard he tried to get to the bottom of the many issues that were plaguing him, no matter how deep he descended into his meditative trances, he simply could not bring all the loose threads together in order to create a cohesive tapestry. All he could see were fragments, not a whole picture, and it made his head hurt to think too much about it. And on top of it all, he was worried about his companion, his partner, his...lover. If only Link were there with him...

However, on a little happier note, Speil hadn't shown up in his dreams lately. Perhaps that was all it had been—a dream, a nightmare, not to be taken seriously. He certainly hoped so.

He blinked as a tremendous groan came from upstairs and a series of heavy footsteps approached and descended the staircase just beyond the bar. The door behind it opened, and a bleary-eyed Angen came through, giving Sheik a strange look.

"A bit early for drinking, isn't it?" he said.

"I'm just sitting here, thinking," Sheik said, recognising the pattern he and the older man were falling into. Every morning after his exercising, Sheik would retreat to the bar where he would think so hard that he could've sworn he heard his _brain_ make cracking sounds at some points and wait until the other two woke up. Angen would show up behind the bar, make a bad joke about it being too early for this and that before going about his daily business at the inn.

But today, something was different. Instead of grumbling quietly and starting his daily routine, Angen leaned against the bar, staring Sheik right in the eye.

"Did you kill the old king?" he asked, his voice deadly serious.

"Excuse me?" Sheik said. "I thought we'd established that—"

"Stop deflecting and answer the question," Angen interrupted. His voice was kept perfectly even, as if there was no real person behind it. "Did. You. Kill. The old. King?"

Sheik glared. "No, I did not," he said. "And if I had, do you really think I would have been stupid enough to get caught? What do you require of me? An oath sworn on the graves of my ancestors?" Sheik felt his shoulders bunch up, his instinct taking over. If Angen intended to attack him now... There was a heavy bottle of some vicious alcohol on the bar. If the older man made a move, Sheik would just have to pick it up and smash it against the side of his—

"That will not be necessary," Angen said, straightening up, his serious expression replaced by the normal, carefree one. "I apologise. I just needed to be sure, that's all." With that said, he made to leave the bar.

"I could have been lying, you know," Sheik said, feeling like kicking himself right after saying it. _What are you doing, you bloody fool? Do you_ want _him to not trust you?_ Angen paused, looking at him with an unreadable expression. "I mean," Sheik continued, "one of my most important abilities as a spy and assassin is the competence to lie convincingly. How do you know I just spoke the truth?"

Angen shook his head. "Dunno. I just do. And I like to think that you wouldn't lie to someone who saved your life. It's bad karma, and all that. Besides, as far as I know, your princess had no reason to order the king's assassination, and you don't strike me as someone who would kill people for money or pleasure. That's why I don't think you killed the king. I just needed to hear it from your own mouth."

"Oh..." Sheik stared at a knot hole in the bar. Then he looked back up at Angen. "Why do you know so much about medicine?" he asked. He figured that, as long as they were at it, he could ask a few questions of his own. "You say you're not a doctor, licensed or unlicensed, and yet you can not only gauge my physical well-being from looks alone, but also perform amputations, bolt extractions...not to mention fashioning those racks..."

Angen looked annoyed, but didn't leave. "Ah, I s'pose I haven't been completely honest with you on that point," he said. He leaned against a massive barrel of beer behind the bar. "Though I think you've already guessed that I used to be a soldier." He looked questioningly at Sheik, who nodded.

"Yes, you do carry yourself with the same sort of...swagger, if you don't mind me saying so."

"I don't," Angen replied. "It's one of the first things you learn in basic training unless you want to be picked on by the other guys. Yeah, I used to be a soldier, and a damn good one at that. I was about...I don't know...Jeryd's age when I reached the rank of sergeant, which is a damn difficult thing to do in the Luminan army. But that's where I stayed." He grumbled a little. "To get any higher than sergeant, you have to be nobility, which I'm not. That, or just have an obscene amount of luck, which I don't. But I was happy with what I had—not too much responsibility, and not too little. The men respected me, as did the officers."

"I have a feeling that it didn't last forever," Sheik said, unable to resist the urge.

"Don't interrupt me," Angen said sourly. "I don't like it when people make snide comments as I'm baring my soul." Not even he was able to contain a little snort at the end of the sentence. "Anyway, as you said, it didn't last. A decade and some years ago, civil war broke out, and the army was more or less divided into two parts: the royalists and the rebels."

"Why did the war break out?"

"The usual, I suppose—power-hungry officers, discontented civilians and bandits working together and creating a lot of mayhem in an attempt to dethrone the king." Angen readjusted his position, scratching his chin. "I fought on the side of the royalists because I honestly once believed that Robar did everything he could for the benefit of Lumina. I don't believe that so much these days, of course, but anyway... It was a bloody war. Lots of casualties on both sides. Lots of atrocities committed too. One night we'd won a battle against the rebels and had captured many of them. The officer in charge, a mad bastard called Agon, ordered the rebels to be executed."

"I've heard this Agon's name before," Sheik piped in.

"Yeah, General Agon, he's quite infamous," Angen said. "He was a commandant back then, but he was just as bad as he is now. Bloodthirsty bastard. He wanted the prisoners killed while the standing order from the generals was to send any captives to labour camps. I decided to voice my disagreement, which resulted in a vicious chewing-out. The others were hesitant to kill the disarmed soldiers, but Agon gave the order again. I warned him again. This time, he demoted me on the spot to private. And then he gave the order a third time. And I reacted."

Sheik held his breath. "What did you do?" he finally asked.

"I knocked him out," Angen said, a hint of pride in his voice. "Bastard went down like a sack of potatoes. The others liked that, and the prisoners were sent to the labour camp, of course. They were actually grateful for that, as I recall. Practically holiday colonies, those."

"Surely knocking out a superior officer had repercussions?"

"Of course. When Agon woke up, he nearly had me executed. Luckily, several of the other officers intervened and prevented my rather untimely death. Instead, I was stripped of my weapons and reassigned to medic duty. There, I learned everything I know about medicine and surgery. And I got more than enough practice, you could say... And when the war was over, they kicked me out, just like that."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"Nah, it's probably the best thing that ever happened to me, actually," Angen said, grinning. "Gave me a chance to survive until retirement, it did." He looked around the tavern. "Despite the lack of customers, I prefer this life to my army life, by far. Not sure how long I'll be able to pay the bills, but that's a bridge I'll cross when I reach it." He picked up a glass and began to wipe it with a cloth, looking every bit the stereotypical innkeeper. "And now, I'd like to ask _you_ a question again," he said.

Sheik nodded. "Shoot."

"What do you intend to do once you've fully recovered?"

"Find my...friend, of course," Sheik said. He'd nearly said lover. If his connection with Link became common knowledge, then someone could use that against them later.

"So you keep saying," Angen drawled. "But exactly _how_ do you intend to go about it? Do you know where he is? Do you even know where to start?"

Sheik hadn't thought of that. He'd been too busy worrying about recovering his strength to actually give his strategy any real thought. "I...figured I would go back to where we were separated and work it out from there."

"Meaning you don't have a damn clue, do you?" Angen said.

"...I suppose not."

"I'll help you."

Both Sheik and Angen looked at Jeryd, who'd appeared in the doorway. The bruise around his eye still hadn't faded completely, but his arm had made a complete recovery. He smiled at Sheik. "I'll help you find him. It's the least I can do."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Sheik asked. "'Least you could do'? You've saved my life twice—I'd say you don't owe me anything."

"I suppose not," Jeryd said, still smiling. "But I'm still going to do it. This may sound wrong, but life around you is exciting, and I honestly want to be a part of it for as long as I can."

 _That..._ did _sound wrong,_ Sheik thought. "Thank you, but I don't think you should risk your life any more than you already have."

"Oh, please," Jeryd said, waving a hand as if to usher away any worries. He sat on the stool next to Sheik's. "By now I'm probably one of the most hated and wanted people in Lumina. I helped the assassin of their king escape, after all."

Sheik groaned.

"And frankly, I don't feel like waiting for the new king's men to find me and string me up in public."

"Well, that's that, then," Angen said. "I should g—"

A loud neigh, so high-pitched it made Sheik shudder, suddenly came from outside the inn. Angen reacted immediately, slamming the cup he was cleaning down on the counter. "Back room, now! Hurry!" he exclaimed as Jeryd and Sheik scrambled through the door, closing it behind them. They listened as Angen headed for the entrance to the inn and flung open the doors. And then nothing. No shouts of warning or anything. Sheik looked at Jeryd, who nodded, and opened the door again. Angen was standing at the entrance, one of the large double doors opened. He was staring at something.

"There's a filly out there," he said as he heard them approach from behind. "On the bridge."

Sheik's heart skipped a beat. "What colour?" he asked. _Could it be...?_

"Hard to tell with all the blood," Angen said. Sheik pushed past him, spotted the filly in question. A smile began to form on his face as he recognised it, but he let out a gasp.

"Shun!" he shouted, running towards the bridge. _No, no, no!_ He stopped a few feet short, staring at her. Deep gouges had been torn into her hindquarters, staining her hair an ugly dark red colour. She was covered in cuts and scrapes, her muzzle covered in what looked like teeth marks. She seemed barely able to stand on her hooves, wobbling slightly as she tried to lean against the railing of the bridge. She turned her head to look at him, her eyes partially shut, emitting a quiet snort. Slowly, Sheik moved forwards, hoping she recognised him. He reached out a hand, which Shun first tried to recoil from, but then she must have registered his scent, for she leaned forward, allowing Sheik to touch her neck, the only place that was not injured in any way. "What happened to you, girl?" Sheik whispered. She snorted again, even quieter this time.

"Move," Angen commanded him, pushing Sheik aside. He crouched down, looking Shun over. "This was a troll attack," he said, careful not to touch her. "See the teeth marks? And those gouges...their claws can disembowel a man with a single swipe, even when they're young...she's lucky to be alive."

"Can you help her?" Sheik asked. He had no idea what a troll was, but he did know that he wanted to hunt down and destroy the one that had done this to Shun.

"I think so," Angen said quietly. "If I can disinfect those wounds in time and prevent her from reopening them...she should be fine. I'm no horse doctor, but I'm better than nothing, right?"

"I guess so," Sheik said, patting Shun's neck again. The filly slowly stumbled closer, resting her head on his shoulder. "I'm sorry," he whispered to her. "I'm sorry..."

* * *

Countess Marlotta looked positively embarrassed in her travelling outfit, smiling apologetically at Link as servants bustled around her, preparing her luggage. They were standing in the entrance hall to her mansion. A beautiful carriage drawn by two pure-white horses of unknown breed stood outside in the gravel-covered driveway. It was hastily being loaded for a longer trip, it seemed.

"I do apologise for leaving you at this time, Link," Marlotta said, wrinkling her nose as a ridiculous-looking hat was fitted over her head. It featured what looked like a dead duck hanging over the side, and a decoration that was highly reminiscent of a tree branch kept poking her nose. "His highness was most adamant about all the nobles gathering for an extraordinary conference."

Link smiled at her, readjusting his hold on the crutch. The wound in his leg had been more serious than the countess' doctor had thought, and quite a bit of muscle tissue had been damaged, causing Link severe pain whenever he put too much weight on the leg. He'd been assured that he'd make a full recovery, however, as long as he kept taking the medicinal draught the doctor prepared for him every evening.

"It's alright, really," he said. "You've a duty to perform, after all." He quite liked the old woman. She wasn't anything like many of the snooty nobles back in Hyrule—quite on the contrary; she was quite down-to-earth and unassuming. Or, as unassuming as a noblewoman with an army of servants and a huge mansion could possibly be.

"I'm glad you understand," Marlotta replied, waving away the servant that was desperately trying to make a last adjustment to her coat...which was quite needed as the current state of her attire made her look like an inflated porcupine climbing a tree with a dead duck on its head. "It's only for a few days, I can assure you. I've already sent scouts to look for the earl—if he's anywhere near Urne, they will find him."

"Thank you," Link said, bowing his head a little. "For everything."

"It is my pleasure," Marlotta said sweetly. Then she began to look around anxiously. "Where _is_ that girl...?" she said quietly, causing most of the female servants to look up in alarm, wondering if any of them was the girl in question.

A door to the left of the large staircase that led up to the dining room opened, and a girl dressed in a maid's outfit came walking out. Link's jaw dropped slightly. She was young, no more than two or three years older than himself, and was looking around anxiously, as if she'd never been in a place like the mansion before. But that wasn't what had Link so surprised. It was her fiery red hair, her dark skin, her golden eyes...

"A Gerudo?" he said quietly to himself, watching as Marlotta perked up at the girl's appearance.

"Ah, Elenwe, there you are," she said beaming as she strode up to the girl and took her hand, quickly leading her towards Link. "Are you adjusting well?" she asked.

"I b-believe so, m-my lady," said Elenwe quietly, her voice barely above a whisper, looking away bashfully as she noticed Link staring at her, a slight blush tingeing her cheeks. "Everyone is so nice to me, h-helping me and showing me a-around..."

"I am happy to hear that," Marlotta said, still beaming at Elenwe like she was her own daughter. "I am sure you will find yourself loving this place as much as I do. Now, say hello to the Hero of Time." She more or less pushed Elenwe towards Link, sending the poor girl stumbling. Link reached out a hand to steady her, to which she reached by blushing even more.

"An h-honour t-to meet y-you," Elenwe said quietly as she shook his hand, not looking him in the eyes.

"The pleasure is all mine," Link said, grinning at her. He was happy to see a familiar element in the strange place that was Lumina. "And call me Link, please, before you start saying _Hero_ all the time."

Elenwe nodded, smiling.

"Elenwe is the newest addition to my staff," Marlotta said proudly, touching the girl's shoulder. "Just arrived here in Lumina a month ago, looking for work, which I was only too happy to offer her when she showed up in Urne two weeks ago. I have told her to look after you while I am gone, Link, if that pleases you?"

"Er…sure," Link said, nodding but not entirely understanding. Why would she do that?

"Splendid, I am sure you will get on excellently with each other," Marlotta said, clapping enthusiastically. "And now I must take my leave. I do not wish to keep his majesty waiting, after all. Ta!" Elenwe and Link watched silently as Marlotta swept (and that was truly the only word that could describe it) out of the entrance hall and boarded the carriage, which set off down the gravel path soon after. The army of servants disbanded soon after, leaving Elenwe and Link alone in the hall. The Gerudo shuffled her feet uncertainly.

"So…what now?" Link asked.

"Whatever you desire, my lo—"

Link glared at her.

"…Link," she finished.

Link beamed at her. "So…I can do whatever I want?" he said.

"Anything short of leaving the mansion," Elenwe said. "The countess insists that you wait until you have fully recovered from your injuries before you go searching for your friend."

Link blinked in confusion. With Marlotta gone, the uncertain and child-like tone in Elenwe's tone had disappeared, and she now spoke with a firmer, more mature voice. Gone was the stuttering as well. The blush was still there, but far less pronounced.

Elenwe must have noticed his puzzlement, for she gave him a small smile and said, "Lady Marlotta enjoys exotic, submissive and 'cute' foreigners working for her. I…have to act a little in order to remain in her good graces."

"I see," Link said slowly, wishing he could ask the question that was burning at the back of his throat.

"You want to ask me why I'm here, don't you?" she said, giggling a little.

"That, and why you're working as a maid," Link said relieved. "I mean, no offense, but Gerudo aren't exactly known for working as servants…you're supposed to be…uh…"

"Thieves?"

"Yeah!" Link exclaimed, clearing his throat a little in embarrassment. "Uh, I mean…yeah."

"I understand your confusion," Elenwe said, smiling at him, still shuffling her feet a little. "The truth of the matter is…I don't really have any talent for thieving. I'm more likely to accidentally forget the loot and alert every guard in the entire place than to pull off a successful heist. Piracy doesn't really suit my talents either—I'd probably accidentally sink the ship I served on. Actually, come to think of it, I _did_ sink my mother's lifeboat… Anyway, after failure after failure, I was thrown out by my clan and left to fend for myself…and since I couldn't do it in a _dishonest_ way, I decided to do it the _honest_ way." She gestured to her dress, a white and black creation that looked rather…well; it certainly wasn't mean to appear conservative. "And I've discovered that I'm quite good at being a maid, and so that became my profession."

"How'd you end up here, then?" Link said, once again readjusting his hold on the crutch. Standing for long period of time was really uncomfortable for him these days too.

"Oh, I wanted to see the world a little bit, and I heard that Lumina was one of the most exotic places a girl like me could go to," Elenwe said. "I wasn't expecting such a crisis to happen just after I arrived, though…the murder of the king was horrible…"

Yeah, and we were wrongly accused of it, Link thought bitterly. How he longed to jump on the nearest horse and look for Sheik, but he knew how stupid it would be considering his injury. "But at least you're safe here, right?" he said.

"Yes…for now," she said ominously. "If the rebels keep winning the skirmishes with the army, they might push all the way to the mansion, though…"

"I'll protect you if that happens," Link said. "I'm quite a capable swordsman, as boastful as I may sound."

"I've heard of your exploits, Hero, and I feel much safer with you around."

"Were you in Hyrule during the war?" Link asked.

"Oh, no," Elenwe said smiling. "I've never been to Hyrule in my entire life." At Link's confused look, she elaborated: "Hyrule may have been the original home of my people, but we have spread all across the world since then. I was born to a pirate clan in Termina, in fact."

"I know someone from Termina," Link said. "A doctor. Her name is Kaura, I don't know if you've ever—"

"You _know_ that purple-haired devil of a woman?" Elenwe said, her face a frozen mask of horror. "As in her being your _friend_? How is that even possible?"

Link leaned back slightly, surprised at the reaction. Sure, Kaura was scary as hell sometimes, but there was a sweet woman beneath that rough exter—he couldn't even finish the thought. "She's not so bad," he said defensively. "You just have to…not piss her off. Which is really hard to do, now that I think about it." He scratched his neck. "I guess she just grew on us after she saved our life a few times."

Elenwe shuddered slightly, all meekness gone from her being now. "I had to see her a few times when I was younger…scariest person I've ever met."

"She has that effect on everyone," Link said. "But we were glad to have her there anyway."

"Of course," the Gerudo said. "I am not lambasting her abilities as a physician…but her people skills really need some work. And she needs some new threats—threatening a girl with castration doesn't really have the same weight behind it."

Link found himself grinning at Elenwe. He liked this one.

The next couple of days were spent in her company. Elenwe was, as Link came to realise, _really_ smart. Whenever he asked her a question that she had a long answer to, she took on a lecturing note that reminded him so much of Sheik's that he sometimes forgot who was talking to him. When they browsed Marlotta's considerable library—or, when _she_ browsed and Link listened—it turned out that she had more than a passing acquaintance with books, describing in-depth what many of the copious volumes were about. At one point, when she was talking about the martial history of Termina, Link could've sworn that the girl would have given Sheik a run for his money when it came to military tactics.

But of course, he kept reminding himself, she _was_ born into a pirate clan—they'd _have_ to know much about fighting to keep themselves afloat (haha) in that profession. Just because she didn't have any talent in the _practical_ part of it didn't mean she didn't know the theory in and out.

It felt good to be able to talk to someone like this again. Though she wasn't from Hyrule, Link nevertheless felt comfortable around Elenwe. It was...nice to see a Gerudo. He missed Ayla and the others...and while he knew fully well that Elenwe wasn't like them...well, it felt familiar, that was all. And when Link felt familiar and comfortable with someone, it was difficult to get him to shut up. Not to mention that he was rubbish at keeping secrets. And as such, it was only natural that he would accidentally say something he shouldn't as he was telling her about Sheik...

"The earl is your lover?" Elenwe said, her eyes widening. They were in the library, seated in a pair of huge armchairs close to the fireplace, which was a roaring inferno of flames and heat. The Gerudo's entire frame had stiffened the second Link had accidentally let slip of his and Sheik's relationship, her fingers clutching the book in her lap. Her knuckles had turned white.

"Uh...yes?" Link said, worried that she was going to react the same way a lot of people in the surrounding kingdoms had done. He'd never forget the small village they'd been chased out of with torches and pitchforks which, as Sheik had later admitted, was thought to only happen in fiction and novels these days.

"And...you are both boys?" she asked.

"Last time I checked, yeah," Link replied, feeling annoyance starting to bubble within him.

"That...is the most adorable thing I've ever heard!" she exclaimed, almost flinging the book into the fireplace as she rose from her seat to kneel by him. "How does it work when you two do it? Does it hurt? Is there a lot of preparation that needs to be done? How did you meet? Who confessed first? Who's the one who _gets_ it when you're intimate?"

Link blinked. Sure, he'd encountered more than a few people who found his and Sheik's relationship "adorable", but he'd never been assaulted by so many questions at once, some of which he'd rather not answer. Some things should stay in the bedroom, in his opinion.

"I...uh...ah...I'd rather not answer anything about how we...do it," he said, blushing. "But I can tell you about how we met, I guess..."

"Please do!" Elenwe said, her eyes shining.

And so Link did. He told her about the first time he had met Sheik in the Temple of Time, when the Sheikah had been quite cold towards him, how he had been infatuated with the red-eyed boy from the very beginning. He told her about how Sheik had found him bleeding at Lake Hylia, of how they'd travelled together after their triumph in the Shadow Temple. Elenwe had practically squealed with joy when Link told her about their first kiss and their subsequent adventures. By the time he'd gotten to the end of the war, it was late at night, and he was feeling drowsy.

"...and then we were separated as we tried to escape from Lumina. This General Agon guy saved my life and brought me here...and that's about it, really," Link finished, his worry for Sheik's wellbeing even stronger now. "All I can do is wait until this wound clears up, and then I'm out of here."

"I'm sure he's okay," Elenwe said, smiling at him. "If everything you've told me about him is true, then there is no way something like that is even going to slow him down a little. For Goddesses' sake, he _died_ and came back—he won't let something like that stop him from finding you."

"Thanks," Link said. "I know what you say is true...but I still can't help but worry..."

"Well, you are going to feel very silly when he shows up alive and well, wondering why you're looking so down," the Gerudo said as she rose to her feet, grabbing his hand. "And now, Hero of Time, I believe it is time for you to go to bed."

"Oh, really?" Link said. "And here I thought being a big boy would let me to pick my own bedtime." Despite the protests, he allowed Elenwe to drag him towards the guest bedchambers. He really was tired, but he had a feeling he needed to uphold some sort of image.

"From what you've told me, you're far from a big boy, Hero," Elenwe said, giggling. She opened the doors to the chambers and almost shoved Link inside. "And you need proper rest if you are to heal."

"Speaking of healing," Link said, trying to leave the chambers again. "I need to go and get the draught from the doctor—"

"I will handle that, Link. Just get ready for bed and I'll bring it to you." She gently pushed him back inside with a delicate hand on his chest before turning around and striding down the hallways towards the countess' personal doctor's office.

Link shrugged, figuring that the less he had to deal with the sour doctor the better, and began to undress. He felt a bit uncomfortable in the mansion, like he didn't belong there. And he really couldn't blame his subconscious either—from what he could guess, the mansion practically _oozed_ money. The wallpaper was woven with silver threads, expensive portraits covered every inch of the walls that weren't occupied by windows, the furniture had their edges painted gold... Hell, even the food was posh and luxurious—not to mention hardly filling. He felt like a fish out of water here, but it sure beat living off the land while limping around like an invalid.

He rubbed his bandaged calf, hissing as it began stinging immediately. There was a persistent, dull ache that was always there, but whenever he touched it, the wound seemed to reopen, much to the chagrin of both him and the doctor.

He slid himself between the sheets and adjusted the flame on the oil lamp next to the bed. The mattress was far too springy to his liking. He preferred to sleep on something much firmer—like the ground. Especially with Sheik curled up against him...

The door opened and Elenwe came back inside, covering her eyes with one hand while holding the familiar green bottle of medicinal draught in the other. "I hope you're decent, Hero," she said, laughing to herself.

"Nothing to hide here," Link said.

"Aw, that's too bad," the Gerudo complained, giggling. "Here," she said as she came over and handed the bottle to Link. "He said to drink it all in one gulp."

"Hurrah," Link said sarcastically, glaring at the bottle. He didn't know how the doctor did it, but the bastard was actually capable of making a potion that tasted worse than Hyrule's famous red potion, which he hated with a passion. This one usually tasted of...compost. He took a few breaths to prepare himself and then upended the bottle, finishing it all in two humongous swallows. His eyes widened in surprise, and he stared at the bottle. "Huh...it tastes different today. Sorta...strawberry...y."

"Yeah, he said he is trying a new recipe in order to fight off the poison," Elenwe explained, turning the oil lamp completely off. Only the light from hallway illuminated the room now. "It should help you fall asleep rather quickly too," she added as she navigated her way to the door. "Sleep tight, Link," She said, smiling widely at him before closing the door.

Link felt the effects of the potion almost immediately afterwards, his head beginning to buzz pleasantly as he closed his eyes. He drifted to sleep soon after, dreaming of Sheik.

* * *

K was barely able to sidestep in time to avoid a huge boulder that came crashing down along the path, inches from his face. He hugged the cliff wall as he waited out the minor landslide that the strong winds had started. His hood was nearly torn off as a strong blast whistled past him. He stayed absolutely still, counting inwardly with his eyes closed. When the ground stopped trembling and the thundering sounds ceased, he opened them again and surveyed the damage. The path was still somewhat intact, though it'd be difficult to climb down again.

 _Oh well, I can never resist a challenge,_ he thought and continued climbing.

He'd been tracking the one responsible for the massacre in the hamlet for over a week now, and he'd finally picked up the trail at the scene of another bloodbath just below the small mountain he was currently climbing. Whoever was responsible had no conscience, that was for damn sure—they murdered man, woman and child alike. K couldn't forgive that—he _was_ an assassin, true, but even he did not support wanton slaughter where it wasn't necessary. The murderer was also good at covering their tracks. It was only because of the two missing guild assassins that he had been able to find the trail to begin with. They had failed to report in at the assigned times, so K had gone to search for them. He found the body of one of them close to the village, and had left a signal for the other guilders to find. After that it was only a matter of following the trail of blood that was leading up the hill towards the mountain.

It was steep. At one point, K had to crawl on all fours just to maintain enough friction to avoid falling. An old, rusted set of rails followed the beaten path closely, and several battered signs seemed to indicate that he was heading up towards an old mine of some sort. Just the sort of place K's mystery murderer would pick as a hiding spot. At least, that was his theory. And his theories usually turned out right.

Another bloodstain revealed that he was still on the right trail, and he renewed his efforts as he climbed the gravel-filled path, panting ever so slightly.

 _I wonder how they got the carts up this bloody mountain,_ K thought, grabbing hold of one rail to pull himself upwards. Not long after, the path levelled out, and K reached a large, flat plateau. Rusty mining carts had been haphazardly parked everywhere, their contents long gone. The rails continued into the mountain itself through a large opening in the stone. It had once been boarded up, but the barricade had been smashed through by someone. Or something. There were drag marks in the fine sand that littered the ground outside the mine, leading inside. K sighed and found himself wishing that, just once, he'd like to _not_ have to deal with theatrics. But hiding in abandoned mineshafts was just par for the course, all things considered, and he had to hand it to the murderer—they chose their theatrics _well_.

"Right," he said to himself, shielding his face against the driving wind as he made a final weapon check. Everything was where it was supposed to be. Clenching his jaw, he slowly made his way inside the mine.

It was dark, and completely quiet. Not even the whistling wind outside could be heard, even though he had only walked a few feet inside. The floor was littered with the pulverised remains of the wooden barricade, and a multitude of mining equipment and tools had been seemingly abandoned when the workers had left. He nearly stumbled over a large hammer lying across the first set of cart rails, which would have produced an unholy racket if he hadn't caught himself just in time and adjusted his footing.

The first room was probably the biggest one in the mine. The ceiling was high and the area open, the floor covered in several different rail tracks that led down five different tunnels. This was presumably where the ore was brought up and sorted through. The useless pieces would be thrown away while the ones containing precious metals were brought outside and taken to a plant or factory to be refined. K couldn't see what kind of mine this had been from the dusty pieces of ore that had been left behind, but it was definitely not a gem one.

 _Okay,_ he thought, looking at the five different tunnels. There were no drag marks or bloodstains in here, nothing that could give him an indication of where the murderer had taken his or her quarry. He let a finger dance from opening to opening as he recited a rhyme in his head.

_Akka...bakka...bonka...rakka...etla...metla...sjong...bong...fillifjong...izza...bizza...topp...stopp!_

_That one_ , he thought, nodding to himself as his finger landed on the middle tunnel.

He waited inside the big room for a few more minutes in order to let his eyes get used to the darkness before moving into the tunnel opening. There was an almost ninety-degree slope just inside. The rails were all bent out of shape and the planks beneath were broken, probably due to seismic activity. The walls and ceiling were full of cracks that were definitely newer than the rest of the tunnel. K, holding on to the bent rails and tunnel wall, slowly began to climb down the slope. It had probably been far less steep before the mine had closed, though he wondered why the tunnel hadn't simply collapsed instead of just shifting downwards.

It took him twenty minutes to reach the bottom of the slope, and he was disappointed to find that there was nothing but a solid wall of stone waiting for him down there. Everything _had_ collapsed after all. He was about to turn back, dreading the climb up when he suddenly noticed a dark stain on the floor. A closer inspection revealed it to be blood—and fresh blood, at that. He then noticed the almost invisible hole in the wall just beyond it. It was well-hidden, almost blending in with the wall completely.

 _Clever,_ K thought, bending down and inspecting the tiny tunnel leading further into the mine. The air smelt dank and rotten in there, not to mention the fact that he knew it would be difficult to breathe in there. _Can't be worse than the sewers of Lumina City, though,_ he reminded himself and made sure that his head was completely covered by his hood, and then pulling up the collar of his shirt to cover the lower portion of his face, leaving only his eyes uncovered. Then he crawled inside.

It was a tight fit, even for him. He scraped his knees and elbows on the rough floor and walls, even banging his head on the ceiling a few times. It was difficult to see, the darkness was so impenetrable and unyielding even to _his_ eyes. The air kept getting heavier and heavier, and the smell of rotting flesh was getting worse.

 _If I wasn't so annoyed with this murderer before, I sure am now,_ K thought. The tunnel slowly began to open more and more, and soon he was able to stand upright again, though the darkness remained thick as ever. He had to run his hands along the walls at one point, just to keep himself oriented.

But then the darkness lifted as he reached a sharp bend in the tunnel, just beyond which a torch was burning on the wall. The smell of blood and rotten flesh was so strong now that K almost felt like hurling. He _hated_ that smell!

More torches hung on the walls as he continued following the tunnel, which eventually opened up into another large room, almost identical to the one just inside the mine opening. There was only one track here, and it ended abruptly against the remains of a long-collapsed shaft. Small piles of ore lay here and there, shimmering in the torchlight. The air was dank and moist, leaving an unpleasant feeling of grime on K's exposed skin. But none of this drew his attention as much as the pile of bodies lying just inside the room, a mass of limbs, heads and torsos, glassy and unseeing eyes staring at nothing, faces frozen in masks of horror.

At the other end of the great room, there was a small alcove, inside of which something was moving. K couldn't see from what it was from this distance, but whatever it was, it hadn't noticed him yet. He breathed calmly as he crept along a wall, slowly nearing the alcove, step by step. A quiet, sort of growling noise was issuing from the alcove.

K's eyes widened as he heard the sound. _It seems I have to re-evaluate what it is I am hunting,_ he thought. There was the tingle of magical energy in the air here as well, which confused him as he had not felt it at all since he had arrived in Lumina. It was like the entire kingdom had been sucked dry of it, but here...here there were small traces of it.

" **Leave!"** growled an inhuman voice from the alcove, a pair of red dots coming into view—eyes, staring directly at K, who did his best to blend into the shadows. **"It is no use hiding from me, mortal...darkness is not a hindrance to me."**

K's heart was beating wildly as he removed himself from the wall, realising that this... _creature_ was speaking the truth. The way those orbs had locked onto him immediately was...unnerving. "What are you?" he asked.

" **Your worst nightmare,"** the voice replied. The pitch and tone seemed to change a billion times a second, sounding like a thousand voices speaking at once. But then, as the creature spoke next, its voice was that of a boy, though still featuring a vague echo-like quality that seemed unnatural, even inside the mine. **"And not something to be trifled with. Come closer, so that I may see you..."**

"I believe I will stay right here, thank you very much," K said, his fingers closing on his daggers. "Demons have a tendency to do more than just _look_ at their victims."

The being snorted and it seemed to move a little closer, taking K's bait. Its eyes suddenly grew in size, and it growled loudly. **"Another one!"** it exclaimed.

"Another one what?" K asked, glancing around the room. There were no tactical advantages to be had here. The floor was completely flat; there were no columns to hide behind... He had to rely on his skills alone if he was to survive this encounter.

" **You don't think I recognise your scent?"** the being asked. **"Hah...you are all the same!"** The being came out of the alcove completely now, appearing as a tangle of shadows that were constantly moving, undulating...but then it reshaped itself, taking the form of a humanoid. Slowly, its features filled in. Its ears elongated, its skin turned ashen grey, its hair dark...the handsome face flashed K an infernal grin.

K felt his blood go cold. He knew exactly what form the creature was imitating. He'd seen him at the party. "The Hero of Time," he said quietly, realising what type of creature he had encountered.

" **My Light,"** it snorted. **"My pathetic, snivelling Light..."**

"I know what you are, Shadow," K said, taking a few steps back.

" **I assumed you would,** _ **assassin**_ **,"** it said, putting a clear emphasis on the last word. **"** _ **You**_ **, of all people, should."**

"How did you escape the Water Temple?" K asked. "As I recall, you are bound to it for eternity or until your Light destroys you."

" **I...hitched a ride. On someone you know very well."** It chuckled. **"Someone I believe you are...searching for."**

 _Sheik,_ K thought. _You fool...you meddled with the Hero's trials?_ He cleared his throat, noticing that there were more piles of bodies in the corners. "And what are you doing here, then? Why have you killed all these people?"

" **Sustenance,"** the shadow growled. **"My host vanquished me once before, and I am reconstituting my strength until I am strong enough to...kill My Light, and take possession of what belongs to me by right."**

K wanted to roll his eyes. He had to deal with _this_ on top of everything... "You are still weak, however," he said, taking a step closer to the shadow, grinning as he saw it take a step back.

" **I am not weak!"** the shadow roared, its voice growing unstable again. **"I am strong!** _ **Strong**_ **! I could end your pathetic existence in the blink of an eye!"**

"If you could, you would have done so the second I set foot inside this room," K countered, taking another step forward, to which the shadow responded by taking another one back. "You may be able to kill innocent villagers and talentless guilders...but you know what I am, and you know what I can do. And you fear me."

" **Silence!"** it screamed, a completely black version of the fabled Master Sword appearing in its hand. **"Leave this place immediately, and I** _ **might**_ **let you live!"**

K shook his head, chuckling. "You poor, pathetic creature," he said. "Your entire existence is based on challenging the Hero of Time so that he may conquer himself...but you refuse to bow to your fate, and so you continue to lead this...deplorable, feeble _attempt_ at a life." He brandished his daggers. "I think I would be doing you a favour by ending you."

" **You are walking on very thin ice, boy,"** the shadow said. **"One last chance. Leave. Or I will kill you and feast on your life force."**

"You're welcome to try, shadow," K said.

" **My name is Speil!"** it roared and charged at him, swinging its sword in a clumsy overhead strike which K easily sidestepped.

"As I thought," he said with amusement in his voice. "You are so weakened that you're not even able to fight properly. One does wonder how you were able to kill so many people in that hamlet, not to mention the guilders, pathetic as they are..."

" **Heh...that is for me to know, and for you to never find out!"** Speil said, thrusting at K's middle. He spun out of the way and swept his daggers across its sword arm. Black droplets of blood hit the floor.

"And you've even given yourself a name, how darling," K said nastily, grinning underneath his makeshift mask. "You actually believe that you can be a real person, don't you?"

" **And you actually believe that you will survive your encounter with my host?"** Speil grinned triumphantly at K's wince. **"I can read you like an open book—you have unsettled business, don't you?"**

"That is none of your concern, shadow," K spat, not bothering with the act anymore. "I hope you've enjoyed your very brief existence, for it is about to end!"

" **You're welcome to try,** _ **Sheikah**_ **..."**

"As you wish," K said, charging towards the shadow, which slowly lunged at him with its sword. He dodged underneath the clumsy strike, slamming one dagger blade into its throat while shoving the other between Speil's ribs, right where its heart would be—if it had one. The dark Master Sword evaporated as the shadow collapsed in a heap, desperately trying to pull K's weapons out of its chest and throat, but he batted its hands away, holding it down until the red in its eyes faded away completely. Then the rest of its body evaporated along with its blood, leaving no trace of its existence apart from the piles of bodies in the mine. K grimaced and sheathed his daggers, feeling slightly disappointed at how easy the shadow had gone down.

He searched the alcove, found the remaining guilder's mutilated body, confirmed her identity and began the long trek out of the mine.

It was morning by the time he could finally breathe fresh air again. His clothes were covered in dust and blood from the shadow's victims, and he felt like he would need to bathe for hours to feel clean again. The winds from last night had died down, and he reclined himself against the cliff wall as he analysed what he had just been though.

_So...Sheik has been interfering with the Hero's quest in more than one way...interesting. The shadow is still attached to him and is trying to reassume its physical form...even more interesting. And here I thought that framing him for the murder would be the most intriguing part of this contract._

He opened his eyes as he heard someone approaching him. A guild assassin. He stopped a few feet away.

"I found your message," he said simply. "Is she inside?"

"Yes," K replied. "Dead as a doornail."

"And the one responsible?"

"Annihilated."

"Proof?"

"None. Supernatural creature. Dissipated upon death."

"How can I trust you to have spoken the truth?"

"Because if you don't, I'll kill you." K glared at him. "Update on the Hero?"

"Your partner has established contact," the guilder reported, seemingly ignoring the death threat. "Befriended him."

"Good. That is all. Continue searching for the earl. Meet me in Urne in a week."

"Very well." The guilder nodded and left, leaving K alone again.

"How I loathe guilders," he whispered to himself.

* * *

**Soul Remnants  
Chapter 18**

* * *

There was little Sheik could do but groan as he opened his eyes and realised he was once again in the middle of the clearing in the Lost Woods with the tree stumps.

 _I knew his absence was too good to be true,_ he thought as he rose to his feet, looking around, trying to spot the entity that had become a constant and ever-increasing irritation. It was high noon, judging by the sun's position, and pleasantly warm—just like it had been the last time. But Sheik was far from relaxed this time. In fact, he could feel himself growing quite angry, and the fact that the damn shadow wasn't even there when he woke up was enough to set his teeth grinding with annoyance.

He clenched his fists, and paused. He raised his left hand and looked at it. "Huh," he grunted. His fingers were still there. "I guess my subconscious still hasn't caught up with current events. Or maybe it's ignoring them." He let the hand drop and looked around the clearing again, fiddling the light shirt he was wearing. "I know you're there, shadow, and I do not find your attempts at theatrics and secrecy amusing."

" **Spoilsport,"** Speil said as he emerged from among the trees—which was a surprise since Sheik had expected him to appear at the top of the stump, like he usually did. **"Though I do appreciate that you are referring to me as a person again."**

"An accident," Sheik said, glaring at the shadow. He raised an eyebrow, however, when he noticed that he was limping and slouching slightly. His eyes weren't as vividly red as they usually were, and he seemed to be having difficulties with keeping a nonchalant grin plastered on his face. "What happened to you?" he asked.

" **None of your business!"** Speil snapped.

"Struck a nerve, did I?" Sheik said, feeling like he had just won a point in some obscure game. "It's strange to see you like this...especially since this is what I assume to be a dream world of _your_ design...and you can't even imagine a perfect version of yourself."

" **You will pay for that insolence, boy...just like the other one,"** Speil said sourly, sitting down on the shortest stump. **"And I didn't create this dream on purpose...not by myself...was an accident..."** He was slurring his words too, Sheik noticed, like he was drunk...but that couldn't be possible, could it?

"The other one?" Sheik asked. "What other one? Terra?" He felt a brief tug at his heart when he mentioned the deceased Sheikah's name.

Speil snorted. **"Pfft, I've already killed** _ **him**_ **, you stupid boy...no, I'm talking about the one who sent me back here."**

Sheik's face froze. "What? What do you mean, 'sent you back here'?"

" **And once again your** _ **brilliant**_ **and** _ **analytical**_ **mind hits a new low,"** Speil said, growling at him. **"What could I possibly mean by that? I was on the verge of finally returning for good when** _ **he**_ **came and ruined everything!"**

"You...you were outside of me? In the real world?" Sheik felt his stomach lurching. If the shadow had finally found its way back into the world...he could— _would_ —come back and plague him and Link again. The shadow nodded. "So that's why you haven't bothered me in my dreams lately..."

" **Well, aren't you just a bloody genius? How** _ **do you**_ **do it?"**

Ignoring the insulting commentary, Sheik's mind went into overdrive as he thought about everything the shadow had done after Sheik's first encounter with him in the Water Temple. All the death, all the suffering... To let such a creature escape and roam the lands could not be tolerated! Sheik had no idea how or where Speil had planted part of himself in him, but he knew one thing: it had to be destroyed.

Clenching his fists again, he renewed his glare at the shadow. Speil was weak, but he would only grow stronger until he tried to materialise again. Sheik wasn't going to let that happen. "Laugh and insult me all you want, shadow," he said clearly. "But you will not have another opportunity to escape. This is _my_ body and _my_ mind...and if I can't destroy you, I will make it your prison!"

" **Go ahead and try, my pet,"** Speil said, chuckling. **"But you will soon realise that you have no control of me..."**

"Perhaps not of _you_ directly," Sheik said, looking intensely at the stump Speil was sitting on. Concentrating, he imagined that the stump wasn't there. His head began to throb and a white-hot spike of pain shot through it, forcing him to close his eyes. But then the pain suddenly disappeared, and there was the sound of a body hitting the soft grass and loud cursing. When he opened his eyes again, Sheik saw Speil sitting on the forest floor, glaring at him. The stump was nowhere to be seen. "But it seems I can manipulate this place," he continued. "So...begone!" He shouted and tried to will the shadow away, but another massive wave of pain—even worse this time—washed over him, forcing him to his knees.

But instead of the silence he had expected, he heard Speil's ugly laughter cutting through the pain.

" **This might be** _ **your**_ **mind, my pet, but I still wield more than a** _ **little**_ **influence over it,"** Speil said, panting. **"You cannot banish me** _ **that**_ **easily!"**

"Perhaps not," Sheik said through gritted teeth. "But I will keep trying!"

Speil laughed again, but it became more and more distant and unclear as Sheik suddenly felt like he was falling. Darkness enveloped him, and he became deaf...

* * *

It was not an abrupt awakening, which was quite unusual after a dream featuring the hated shadow. Sheik simply opened his eyes, and was awake. His heart wasn't even racing. He looked over to the window, where pale moonlight was shining in. He hadn't been asleep for long, then.

After Angen had done his best to patch up Shun and made sure that she wasn't going to die (at least not in the immediate future, the pessimistic man had said), the three had agreed to watch over her in turns. Or, rather, two of them had agreed and Sheik had insisted on doing it himself, but he quickly realised that the combined minds of Angen and Jeryd were even more stubborn than his own. Sheik had gone to bed less than two hours or so ago, but all desire to sleep and dream had been sapped from him.

 _Surely Speil was lying_? he thought as he swung his feet over the edge of the bed and sat up. He stared at his hand. Bandages still covered the wounds where his fingers had used to be. Sighing, he realised that he would probably never fully get over the loss of them, especially not if his subconscious couldn't. He shook his head, knowing that he was avoiding the major issue. _If Speil wasn't lying, then where has he been? And who sent him back? And_ how _did they send him back?_

He got dressed, giving up on sleep for the moment and headed downstairs. The tavern was empty—there were no guests tonight, and Angen had locked up the main entrance. The moonlight shining through the windows cast eerie shadows over the furniture and carvings. In this half-darkness, even with his extraordinary night vision, Sheik could've sworn he saw some of the carvings move. _Silly me_ , he thought. _I'm just nervous..._

He went out the backdoor, making sure to close it firmly behind him and headed for the small storage shed that had become an improvised stable for Shun. It was freezing outside, his breath coming out as smoke, making him wish he had put on something more than just trousers and a shirt. Light shone out from within the shed, and Sheik knocked gently on the door and opened it, stepping inside the warmth.

"You're remarkably early," Jeryd said, looking up at him from his game of cards. "Isn't Angen supposed to relieve me?"

"I couldn't sleep," Sheik said, glancing at the sleeping Shun. Angen had made a sort of booth for her and packed it full of hay to keep her warm. He had done his best to clean and bandage her wounds, and her condition hadn't worsened after that, so that was probably a good sign. "How is she?" he asked.

"She hasn't woken up after you left," Jeryd said, shuffling his cards. "And since she's standing, I can only assume that she's not getting worse. But then again, I am not an expert on horses, so maybe I'm wrong and she's on the brink of dying..."

"Sounds rather pessimistic," Sheik said, frowning. If Shun died...he didn't know what he'd do. What would Epona and Maladict do? Come to think of it, where _were_ Epona and Maladict? He couldn't imagine for a second that they'd split up from their daughter willingly...had they been attacked by trolls too?

"Pessimistic?" Jeryd said, sounding surprised. "More realistic than anything, I think. I simply look at the situation or problem before me, take stock of my knowledge of it and the skills required to solve it. I don't know much about horses, and therefore I don't know if sleeping upright is a good thing for them to do while wounded like that." He looked up from his cards again. "I was under the impression that Sheikah also thought in those terms."

"We do," Sheik said. "But I try to be optimistic when my friends are concerned." Link's face appeared in his mind's eye before he could stop himself. "Surely humans have a similar mindset when their loved ones are in peril?"

"I wouldn't know, to be honest," Jeryd said, his tone a little sour. "I don't have any loved ones. Not anymore, anyway."

"What do you mean? Surely you have friends or family...?" Sheik trailed off. Jeryd was getting agitated, his entire body stiffening.

"My family was killed in the last civil war," Jeryd said, dealing out cards for himself. "And the only 'friends' I've ever had were only trying to take advantage of me. So no, I don't have any friends or family."

Sheik was taken slightly aback. He hadn't seen Jeryd like this before. The young man was usually quite cheerful, all things considered, and he always seemed to have a less-than-adequately-hidden smile on his face. But right now he was sullen, serious and apparently quite angry about something.

"I'm sorry," the Sheikah said, not knowing quite how to react.

"Not your fault, don't apologise," Jeryd said, continuing to play his game. He seemed to be trying to get all the colours and faces to match up. He looked back up at Sheik. "Could you please sit down?" he asked. "It makes me nervous when people just stand around like that."

"Sorry," Sheik said again, wondering why this particular thing would make a clerk nervous. _But then, I know that he's not a clerk, don't I?_ he thought.

"Do you want to play?" Jeryd asked, gathering up the cards after apparently failing miserably at the game. "How about War?"

"I don't know the rules," Sheik said. He'd never been very good with cards, and any confidence he'd had with them had been crushed by Tao, who was either very skilled with them or just had the most massive case of beginner's luck Sheik had ever seen.

"It's quite easy," Jeryd said. "We shuffle the cards; divide the deck in two and we each take a part. Then we draw one card each and match them up against each other. The one with the highest numerical value wins and gets both cards. The one with the biggest pile once we run out of cards is the winner. Got it?"

"I guess," Sheik said. "Though it doesn't seem to be a game based on skill—more like luck and chance."

"I'm not really in the mood for anything that requires me to use my brain right now," Jeryd said. "Too much effort."

"A lazy mind is a wasted mind," Sheik said, echoing what Impa had told him whenever he had claimed to be too tired to solve the puzzles she gave him from time to time.

"True," Jeryd conceded. "But right now, I don't care." He shuffled the cards, divided the deck in two and gave Sheik one half. "Right, are we ready?"

"I suppose," Sheik said.

"Then I declare war!" Jeryd said and drew a card.

Sheik found himself enjoying the game despite its simplistic nature. He was so used to having to think of strategies in just about everything he did that relying on luck alone—despite the fact that he did not believe in it—was quite...relaxing, really. It also helped that his _luck_ seemed to be better than Jeryd's, who kept cursing under his breath whenever he lost a draw. But he too seemed to be more relaxed than before.

"I was wondering if I could ask you a question," Sheik said as he drew a card.

"Go ahead," Jeryd said, grimacing when he lost yet again. "I've been pestering you for days; I guess it's only fair that you get to ask me some in return."

"You said you lost your family in the war," Sheik said carefully, trying to spot signs of the human clamming up.

"Yes?" Jeryd said without looking up.

"How old were you then?"

"Not really sure...eight, nine, ten...somewhere around there."

"What happened?"

Jeryd grumbled. "General Agon happened," he said sourly. "Convinced the other soldiers that our village was filled with rebel sympathisers and had it burned. They raped and slaughtered the people and left only a handful of survivors...I was one of them. I was paraded around the countryside for a few months, beaten and displayed as an example of what would happen to those who fought against the king. And when the war was over...they let me go."

Sheik stared at the human, wishing he'd never asked. "How could they do such a thing to a child?" he asked. He was reminded of what had happened to Tao, and felt a spike of fury going through him.

"War does strange things to people, I guess," Jeryd said. They drew cards again, and he grinned as he beat Sheik's card by a single point. "I didn't dwell on it."

"What did you do after that?"

"Frankly, my memory's sort of blurry in that particular timeframe," Jeryd said. "In broad terms, I remember roaming the countryside for a little while before eventually ending up in Lumina City. I lived on the streets, stealing and doing whatever I could to survive. And then I was taken in by a... less than reputable organisation."

"Who?" Sheik asked.

Jeryd looked at him with a serious expression. "I think you already know. You've seen me fight."

Sheik nodded, his suspicions confirmed once and for all. "You're an assassin."

"Not quite, but close enough," Jeryd said. "Among several other things, I am indeed trained as an assassin. But I haven't been activated yet."

"Activated?"

"I have yet to receive any assignments from the masters. And before you jump to conclusions, I did not poison the king." He fixed Sheik with a serious stare. "I had _nothing_ to do with Robar's death."

Sheik remained silent for a few seconds, thinking carefully before speaking. "Let's say that I believe you. Why did you help me escape?"

"It was a very...spur-of-the-moment decision of mine," Jeryd said, scratching his neck, seemingly embarrassed. "Truthfully, I don't know. It ruined everything I have worked for, the cover and personality I created for myself. A councillor's clerk is privy to many things, which would have come in handy should I ever be chosen for an assignment...but I threw it all away just to help you and the Hero of Time to escape...why did I do that?"

Sheik stared at him. _What did he mean by 'not quite but close enough'?_ he wondered.

"I guess I was just too big an admirer of you and your race to allow them to imprison you," Jeryd said after a moment of deliberation. "During my training, all the boys and girls were taught to idolise the Sheikah and think of them as role models. I guess I took it a little too far."

"Will you get in trouble?"

"Aren't I already?"

"No, I meant with your...superiors, or whatever you call them."

"Masters," Jeryd said and looked thoughtful for a second. "And I don't think so. As long as I don't break the tenets—which I haven't yet—then I'm supposedly in the clear. But I guess being a wanted criminal turns it into a sort of 'out of the frying pan and into the fire'-type of situation." He looked directly into Sheik's eyes. "Which I don't regret for a second." With that said, he flipped over his final card, revealing the ace of spades, which easily beat Sheik's two of hearts. "I win."

Sheik stared at the disproportionate piles of cards. Hadn't he been winning? _How the hell did this happen?_ he wondered.

He gathered up the cards with the intent to shuffle them, but quickly realised that he needed to learn it all over again as several cards slipped through the space where his fingers were supposed to be. Doing his best to ignore it, he spoke, "So...dare I ask what kind of organisation you work for?" he said.

"Do you truly want to know?" Jeryd asked as he took the deck of cards from Sheik and reshuffled them.

"Well, yes," Sheik said. "If an organisation worships the Sheikah, I'm very interested in knowing what they do. Is it an assassin's guild?"

"Hell no," Jeryd said a little abruptly. He cleared his throat embarrassedly. "I mean, yes, and no."

"That...doesn't really answer the question," Sheik said, raising an eyebrow.

"I'm trying to figure out a way to explain it you without me breaking the tenets," Jeryd said and remained silent for a minute, and then drew breath. "I suppose you could say we're a jack-of-all-trades organisation. We do all kinds of...activities that are not necessarily on the right side of the law. For pay, of course."

"Naturally," Sheik deadpanned. "Modelled after the Sheikah, I presume?"

"Some of it, yes...particularly the assassination parts."

"Wonderful," Sheik said drily. _Just what I need...a bunch of people playing Sheikah. Good thing we never wrote anything down and relied on word of mouth when it came to teaching our young..._ He paused slightly, wondering why he'd thought that.

"We mean no disrespect," Jeryd said hurriedly, afraid he'd offended Sheik. "We simply admire your ways and techniques so much that we want to pay tribute! Not that we can do much besides emulating your fighting styles since information on anything else is so obscure."

"Non-existent, more like," Sheik said, perhaps a bit more snappish than he'd intended, judging by the look of shame on Jeryd's face. "That is the exact reason we never let any outsiders into our society—we didn't want our secrets to become public knowledge." He motioned for Jeryd to begin dealing out cards again. "It's a matter of pride and tradition..."

"I understand," Jeryd said. "And I'm sorry."

"So...can I trust you?"

"What do you mean?"

Sheik made sure that they were both staring into each other's eyes before continuing. "I need to know if I can trust you not to stab me in the back or slit my throat. You helped me escape, yes, but that could have been out of some ulterior motive. As soon as Shun and I are well enough to travel, I'm going to go look for the Hero. Can you guarantee that you will not impede my progress?"

Jeryd looked surprised, but nodded. "Yeah, I can guarantee that." He smiled. "Because I'm going to help you."

Sheik shook his head. "I don't understand. _Why_ do you want to help me?"

"Same reason I got you out of the castle dungeons," Jeryd said, still smiling. "I simply admire you too much."

_Good grief!_

* * *

"Well, I'll be damned," Angen said as he entered the makeshift stable, where Sheik was stroking Shun's muzzle. "She's practically healed!"

Sheik smiled as he continued petting Shun. There could be no doubt that this was Epona's offspring. Not even three days, and Shun was almost as good as new. She would have a few scars, but other than that she didn't seem to even notice that she'd been grievously injured.

"It's all thanks to her lineage," Sheik said. "Her father is strong and fast, and her mother...I'm convinced that there's some sort of magic in her blood. She heals like this as well."

"Magic, eh?" Angen said, hesitantly stroking Shun's neck.

Sheik looked at him closely, having noticed a very obvious flinch in Angen when Sheik had said the word "magic". _Ah, he's one of those,_ he thought, wondering how the innkeeper would have reacted to one of Link's sword spins or—heavens forbid—Vorpehus' attempt and success at blowing up a mountain.

"There's no need to be nervous," he said. "It's the good kind of magic."

"Er...right," said Angen, still hesitant. "Pardon me, but I haven't really had any experiences with magic that you could call _good_..."

"I thought magic wasn't practiced in Lumina," Sheik said. "It's hated, isn't it?"

"It is," Angen nodded. "Not because of its nature, but because of the nature of man. Having so much power...to be able to control the elements and rule over light and darkness—it is corrupting. The Enlightened One, as I'm sure you've heard, used it to wage war on the Goddesses...and lost. And then Lumina was punished...apocalyptically, you might say. It was decreed that the practice of magic was to be outlawed, and the punishment for breaking the ban was death."

"Sounds a bit extreme," Sheik muttered.

"It had to be, or else someone would probably take up the Enlightened One's mantle and carry on his work." Angen looked uncomfortable, but he seemed to be warming up to Shun again as she stared into his eyes. "But I guess the sort of magic that gave life to this beautiful being isn't so bad..." he said and patted her muzzle.

Sheik smiled to himself. He opened his mouth to ask a question, but became aware of the very faint sound of hooves on wood, approaching fast. Angen noticed it as well, his head snapping to look out the shed door.

"Riders," Sheik said, analysing the sound. "Armoured soldiers, judging by the weight. No idea how many."

"Get back into the inn and hide on the second floor," Angen said, stepping outside. "Make sure Jeryd does the same."

Sheik nodded and ran back into the inn. _It was bound to happen sooner or later,_ he thought. _Search parties must have been dispatched all over the kingdom._ He found Jeryd snoring quietly in his room and quickly woke him up, explaining the situation.

"So what do we do?" Jeryd said, suppressing a yawn and maintaining a surprisingly calm attitude towards the problem.

"Angen will probably get rid of them," Sheik said, "but be ready to run like hell just in case."

"Right."

"And we'll hide up here."

"Goes without saying."

"We can't risk being spotted."

"Naturally."

This was why they found themselves hiding in the backroom behind the bar thirty seconds later, just as Angen came back inside accompanied by five heavily armed soldiers. Sheik and Jeryd peeked out from the door, which was slightly open—just a crack. The leader of the soldiers was laughing, his arm around Angen's shoulders.

"Ah, it's good to see you again, my friend," the soldier said. "It's been far too long, hasn't it?"

"I wouldn't know, Gaz," Angen said, sounding less than happy about seeing his supposed friend again. "Fifteen years just fly by when you're not around. And it hasn't been nearly long enough."

"Always the joker, this one," Gaz said, elbowing Angen not-so-innocently in the ribs. He put his helmet down on one of the long tables and looked around. "I've heard of this inn quite a few times, but I didn't think for a second that it was yours."

"Despite it having my name in large letters on the sign?" Angen asked drily.

Gaz snorted. "Yours isn't exactly a rare name. And I've been busy."

"Wonder what could have occupied you for such a long time."

"None of your business," Gaz said and clapped his hands together loudly. "Right, to _my_ business!" He held out a hand and one of his soldiers immediately placed four rolls of paper in it. "We are searching for—"

"The king's assassin and his accomplice," Angen said, interrupting him. "Yes, believe it or not, but I can stay in the loop despite the remoteness of my home."

Gaz snorted. "News must be slow, then. You can add two more people to that list." He unrolled the posters and showed each one of them to Angen. "This is the assassin, and this is his accomplice." Gaz said.

Sheik felt his heart skip a beat. _Accomplice? Is he talking about Link? Or Jeryd?_ He glanced over at the human, who seemed to be thinking the same thing. Jeryd shrugged.

"And the two new ones?" Angen drawled, feigning disinterest perfectly.

"Here."

"...is this some sort of a joke?" Angen said, his voice serious.

Gaz grinned. "'fraid not."

"But this is the captain of the royal guard!"

"Indeed," Gaz said happily. "He tried to stage a coup a little while ago—it failed miserably, of course, thanks to General Agon's swift and merciless response. The entire royal guard was in on it, and they were wiped out accordingly. But the man himself got away, the coward."

"And this one?"

"He was in the royal guard as well, but we believe him to be a spy."

"A spy? For whom?"

"That's what we intend to find out when we capture him."

Angen sighed as he rolled the posters up again and tried to hand them back, but Gaz stopped him with a shake of his head.

"No, keep them. Hang them up in your tavern, please. With any luck, some of your customers will have seen them."

"Right."

"And now we'd like to take a look around your inn, if we may, just to make sure they're not hiding here," Gaz said, rubbing his hands together as if he was looking forward to a treat.

"So, you immediately assume me to be a traitor, do you?" Angen said sourly, heading for the bar. His eyes met Sheik's just as he reached it, and a momentary look of annoyance crossed his face, but he quickly covered it up with disinterest again. He turned back to the soldiers and leaned against the bar. "That's just like you, Gaz..."

"Well, you _have_ shown yourself to be unreliable before, _sarge_ ," Gaz said pointedly. "Luck is the only reason you're still alive. You may have escaped the butcher's block once, but if you were to be discovered harbouring dangerous fugitives...well, I don't think you're _that_ lucky."

"Is that a threat?" Angen said. Sheik could practically _feel_ the anger suddenly rolling off the innkeeper. "I don't take kindly to those, you know."

"Not a threat, no," Gaz said. "Just a...warning. Now, will you let us search your inn, or will I have to arrest you for obstructing the king's men?"

"Go ahead," Angen said, gathering his hair into a ponytail and tying it up. "You won't find anything or anyone." As if to emphasise how little he cared, he unrolled one of the posters again and studied it. Sheik was disappointed to see Jeryd's face on the poster rather than Link's. It meant that the Hero hadn't escaped that night and was probably in some ghastly dungeon somewhere.

"Thank you, you are _too_ kind," Gaz said sarcastically and gestured for his men to start searching. He himself went directly for the backroom, which alarmed the two hiding in there greatly. But, just as Gaz made to open the door completely, Angen made a startled noise.

"I've seen this one!" the innkeeper exclaimed, showing the poster to Gaz, who perked up.

"Where?" he demanded.

"Two days ago," Angen said excitedly. "He was with a companion, but I didn't get a good look at his face because he was all covered up in robes. He even had a face-veil! They stayed a night and then moved on." He looked up at Gaz. "You could probably still catch them if you're quick enough!"

"What direction?" Gaz demanded.

"North."

"Right, we're going north!" Gaz exclaimed, and his men immediately scrambled out of the inn. Gaz made to follow, but threw Angen one last meaningful glance and said, "If I find out that you've been lying to me..." He left the sentence hanging and disappeared. Soon after, they heard the riders mounting up and quickly moving away, the sound eventually fading away.

"Don't move," Angen said quietly, as if talking to himself. He reached behind the bar and pulled out the club and then searched the inn thoroughly before returning to the bar and opening the backroom door fully. "You can come out now," he said. "I just had to make sure they were truly gone and didn't leave anyone behind to snoop."

"Thanks," Jeryd said, grinning at the older man. "You're a great liar, by the way."

"It's one of those things you learn while being a sergeant."

Sheik picked up the wanted posters and unrolled them. He wasn't surprised at how little his picture looked like him. Really, the only thing that was accurate about the drawing was his eye region. A little notice on the side pointed out very firmly that his eyes were _**RED**_ and that he had _**POINTY**_ ears. He scoffed and put it down. Jeryd's drawing actually looked like him, much to the human's chagrin. Sheik then looked at the other two. He recognised the royal guard captain as the man who had been the announcer at the party at the castle, but the other one...he'd never seen that one. There was no last name, only "Sid". He was bald, had numerous scars on his face, a nose that looked like it had been broken more than once and hard eyes. He also had the most curious beard—a little strip on his chin.

He looked at the captain's face again. "Rial Vortan," he said quietly. "You know this one?" he asked Angen.

"Yeah," the man answered and took the poster. "In the last stages of the war, I was stationed close to the capital, in the basic training camp. He'd just got promoted to corporal—surprising for his young age—but had been injured and had to attended to by a medic. I was the lucky one. We got to know each other and we stayed in touch for a while after the war ended, but it became sporadic once he joined the royal guard. Haven't spoken to him for a few years, actually, but I always knew he'd do well for himself."

"Do you really think he tried to stage a coup?" Jeryd asked. "I've met him on a couple of occasions and he didn't strike me as someone who would betray his own king..."

"No, I don't think he did," Angen said, his eyes glaring at the paper. "He was very devoted to the princ—king, even as a regular guard, and I can't imagine anything that would turn him against him. No, I think the captain has fallen victim to the same conspiracy that befell you two." He looked at them. "I think someone is trying to take control of Lumina."

"Who?" Sheik said. "Agon?"

"Wouldn't surprise me," Angen replied. He shook his head. "But I'd rather not spend the rest of the day speculating about this. We need to be ready for when Gaz and his men come back tomorrow."

"How do you know they'll come back?" Jeryd asked.

"Let's just say that I know Gaz a lot better than he thinks I do."

* * *

Sheik and Jeryd were sitting at the bar later that night, playing War. Sheik's forehead wrinkled as he noticed that his pile was—once again—much smaller than Jeryd's. The man was simply unbeatable at this game, which was bizarre since Jeryd kept reassuring him that there wasn't anything else to the game but drawing cards. Sheik could only conclude that the human was cheating somehow.

"Cheating? Me?" Jeryd asked innocently. "How could I possibly be cheating?"

"I don't know," Sheik said, eyeing him suspiciously. "But there is no way you can win that many times in a row."

"Maybe I'm just luckier than you."

"There's no such thing as luck—it's just a word people can either blame for their misfortune or claim to have lots of when things go their way."

Jeryd looked confused. "You have got to be the most miserable kid I've ever met," he said.

"So they tell me," Sheik replied. He drew a card and was unable to keep the grin off his face as he beat Jeryd's card. _Small victories, great joys,_ he thought.

Angen appeared behind the bar and began to clean some glasses. "Your hoofed friend is doing fine," he said. "She's sleeping soundly."

"Thank you," Sheik said. "I don't know what I would have done if I lost her..."

"Couldn't just let her die, could I?" Angen gave him a small smile. "Any friend of yours is a friend of mine."

"Aw, how sweet," Jeryd said sarcastically, which earned him a wet cloth to the face from the innkeeper. "Gah, right in my eye!"

Sheik chuckled at the display and Angen soon joined in.

"That's right, laugh at my pain! Just you wait, the next time you're asleep—"

Sheik slapped his hand over Jeryd's mouth, cocking his ears. After a while, he said, "More riders. Trying to be quiet this time."

"Back room," Angen said as he brought out his club once again. Sheik didn't want to know just how hard the man could hit someone with it, especially with those muscles. "There's a trapdoor to the cellar behind the beer barrels. Get down there and don't come back up until I give the signal, understood?"

"What's the signal?" Jeryd asked.

"I'll knock on the floor three times with my club."

The cellar was dark and dusty, showing clear signs of not having been visited by anyone in some time, much less a broom or washcloth. Old crates filled with who knows what lined the walls and sacks of rotten flour haphazardly covered the floor. Insects of every kind skittered across every surface. Jeryd covered his nose and suppressed a sneeze.

"This is nasty...doesn't he ever clean this place?" he asked.

"That's what you choose to worry about right now?" Sheik asked, making his way further into the cellar. Light from the tavern above shone through the cracks in the floorboards, and they both heard Angen's anxious footsteps as he paced across the floor. The approaching riders shed all pretence of stealth now and came to a noisy halt outside the inn. There were fewer of them than before, Sheik noticed.

Someone knocked on the door, and Angen suddenly mumbled loud enough for Jeryd and Sheik to hear him. "Gaz would never knock—this is someone else. Stay out of sight."

They heard the door open, and Angen's surprised intake of breath. "Rial?" he asked.

"Angen," the familiar voice of the announcer said. "It's good to see you again. Can we come in?"

"Certainly," Angen said. Several sets of footsteps came inside the tavern. They too were wearing armour. "What are you doing here? You're being chased by Gaz and his men, they—"

"I know, I know," Rial interrupted. "We saw them leaving your inn earlier today. They're lying, Angen, I would never—"

"Of course not," Angen said. "I know you didn't try to take the throne. What happened?"

"It was Agon," Rial said bitterly, pacing back and forth. "He's involved in some sort of conspiracy with Councillor Rehm and Countess Marlotta. Sid and I listened in on one of their little meetings, but I couldn't discern their plans from it, and so I confronted Agon with it...the bastard wouldn't tell me."

"Did you go to the king with it?" Angen asked.

"No, and that was the fatal mistake. I thought I'd have more time to gather actual evidence and accuse them...but Agon acted quicker and launched his attack the same night. He pinned the attack on myself and my men, and we were forced to fight for our lives and escape...we're all that's left of the royal guard..."

"Hm, this is bad," Angen said slowly. "I'm sorry about your men."

"I'll kill Agon for what he's done!" Rial exclaimed.

"Calm down," Angen said. "Take a seat, all of you. You must be exhausted."

Several minutes went by as Angen got the guards something to drink before seating apparently sitting down next to Rial. Both Sheik and Jeryd carefully moved until they were directly underneath them, listening in.

"Thank you, Sergeant," Rial said gratefully.

"No need," Angen replied. "And don't call me that. I haven't been a sergeant since the war."

"You'll always be a sergeant to me."

"Fair enough. Listen, Rial, it's good to see you and know that you're okay, but why did you come here?"

"We need somewhere to hide for a few days, get our bearings and figure out what we're going to do."

"I'm sorry, but that's just not possible," Angen replied regretfully.

"What? Why not?"

"You know exactly why. You're wanted by the entire kingdom, and if I'm caught hiding you and your men..."

"But certainly you can do so for just a few days—"

"I'm sorry, but the inn's already been searched once, and I know that Gaz could be back at any time tomorrow to do it again."

Angen was lying through his teeth about the inn having been searched part, Sheik knew.

"But—"

"End of discussion!"

"I thought we were friends!"

"We are, but I don't want to get involved with this, Rial, please understand that. It's because we're friends that I didn't turn you away the second I saw you, but letting you stay here is too dangerous, both for me _and_ you. I'll give you supplies, but that's it."

Rial didn't say anything for a few minutes, and then sighed. "Alright...we'll take the supplies and go. Thank you."

"Wait here and I'll go get them."

The warmth that had filled Rial's voice up until then was definitely gone by the time he and Angen bid their goodbyes and he left with his men. The innkeeper waited for a few minutes before rapping his club on the floor, signalling that it was safe to come out.

"I don't understand," Jeryd said the second he saw Angen. "You'll happily help _us_ hide but you turn away an old friend?"

"Two people are easier to hide than nine," Angen said simply. He closed the doors and locked them. "He knows how to take care of himself." It was like he was trying to reassure himself he was doing the right thing. "I'm going to bed."

They watched him go, standing quietly in the middle of the tavern. Muddy boot prints on the floor showed where the men had walking and standing. Jeryd looked uncomfortable for a second before he yawned and scratched his neck. "You know, that doesn't sound like a bad idea, actually," he said and headed for the stairs. "Good night."

"Good night," Sheik said absentmindedly, still staring at the approximate spot where Rial had been sitting. _Regicide, framing, cover-ups and now_ attempted _regicide and betrayals._ _What the hell have we gotten ourselves into?_ he wondered.

* * *

He woke up abruptly to the sound of glass smashing and the smell of smoke. Sheik vaulted himself out of bed, grabbing a dagger from his pack as he did so and looked out the window. The inn was on fire! Flames were already licking at the facade. Several dark shapes were standing just out of the light's reach. One of them stepped into the light, however, and Sheik recognised Gaz's bearded face immediately.

"Wakey-wakey, Sarge!" he shouted at the top of his lungs. "Time to come clean!"

One of the soldiers lobbed another rock at one of the first floor windows, smashing it.

Sheik's door opened, and Jeryd stood there, panting. He was just in his nightshirt as well and had his stuff bundled under his arm. "We've got to go!" he exclaimed.

"Couldn't agree more," Sheik replied and grabbed his pack, making sure to stuff his lyre into it. There was no time for trousers, he realised and followed Jeryd into the hall, where Angen waited, wielding his club. He was fully dressed.

"Gaz came back quicker than I thought," the large man said apologetically. "And he doesn't sound happy. We'll go out the back way!"

They went down the stairs and passed by the door to the tavern, just in time to see another window get broken. Something was then lobbed inside—a bottle! It smashed open on the floor and a wall of flames immediately erupted around it, engulfing much of the room—a fire bomb!

"That son of a bitch!" Angen roared, smashing his club into the wall with anger.

"Come on, let's go," Jeryd said as they hurried to the backdoor. They were starting to cough, smoke quickly filling the entire building. The flames were spreading fast—too fast. The human made to open the door, but Sheik stopped him.

"They've probably surrounded the entire building—they'll be ready for us. We'll have to fight our way out!"

"Alright," Jeryd said and drew his bejewelled dagger. "Wish I had something less...ostentatious, though."

"Take one of mine," Sheik said and gave Jeryd one of his daggers.

"Perfectly balanced," Jeryd said, looking at it in awe.

"Don't lose it!"

"Stop," Angen suddenly said and got in their way. "They don't know for sure that you're here yet. Gaz is probably just trying to smoke you out."

"Well, he's bloody succeeding, isn't he?" Jeryd exclaimed.

"Partially," Angen said. "Listen, I'll go out first and pick a fight—you two will take advantage of the confusion and get the hell out of here in the meantime."

"What about you?" Sheik asked.

"I can handle myself," he replied and grinned. "Give me ten seconds to get warmed up, eh?" With that said he kicked the door off its hinges and charged out into the night, roaring like a maniac. Sheik had been right—there were soldiers waiting outside. Angen barged into them, not giving them time to react as he smashed his club into them, easily breaking and crushing bones.

Sheik and Jeryd counted down and, when the soldiers seemed suitably occupied, they charged out as well, heading in the opposite direction of Angen, right towards the shed where Shun waited. But they'd miscalculated. Another line of soldiers—ten in all—stood between them and freedom, and they were advancing fast.

Baring his teeth, Sheik readied his dagger. "Guess we're fighting after all," he said to Jeryd, who was doing the same.

"It'll be an honour to fight at your side," the human replied before he lunged at their attackers. He ducked under a sword blow and swiftly cut the wielder's throat in a single, fluid motion, impressing Sheik.

 _He's good,_ Sheik thought before focusing on the soldiers that were converging on him. Their faces were hidden by the visors of their helmets, and some were wearing plate armour.

Sheik singled out the ones who looked the weakest and decided to start with them. He feinted and went for a spearman whose weapon was wavering in the air. Sheik stepped aside from the clumsy blow and stabbed the man in the heart. As the spearman fell gasping to his knees, Sheik was surprised at how difficult it had been to stab through the weak leather armour. _I guess I'm still not back to full strength yet,_ he thought and saw that the remaining four were still coming towards him. Another spearman, more confident than the previous one, attacked, and Sheik was barely able to dodge it. He couldn't block either since it'd leave him completely open.

 _Behind!_ He quickly turned around to see one of the soldiers charging at him, sword raised high. _Clever bugger!_ Sheik side-stepped, grinning. _But I'm cleverer._ The soldier screamed in pain as he impaled himself on his comrade's spear. Sheik took advantage of the confusion and quickly sliced the spearman's throat. _Three down._

The only two left were the ones wearing plate armour. A quick look behind him confirmed that Jeryd and Angen were still holding their own.

 _Plate armour,_ he thought. _No openings except for the joints. Wonderful..._

It didn't help that the soldiers wielded large, two-handed swords either, which gave them a range far greater than the average-length ones. And they knew how to work as a team, it seemed, as they both fanned out on either side of Sheik, pressing closer. And then they attacked, and Sheik's world was suddenly tumbling hither and thither as he tried to dodge the blows coming alternatively from the soldiers. The two-handed swords made them slower by far, but they made up for it by attacking in turn, giving Sheik no window of opportunity to strike back.

One of the swords suddenly clipped his shoulder—not enough to draw blood—which put him off-balance. He tried to do a backflip to put some distance between himself his enemies, but they plodded on mercilessly, attacking again and again. Sheik gritted his teeth, knowing that there was no way he could win if he allowed things to continue like this. He prepared himself for a potentially suicidal attack, hoping that the soldiers would be too surprised to react, but just as he made to attack them, a horse whinnied. Sheik recognised the sound and snapped his head to look at the shed. _Shun!_ he thought.

He reacted too late. The flat side of one of the two-handed swords smacked into the back of his head and bore him to the ground, where he lay dazed and confused for a few seconds. Suddenly his world was filled with hands, arms, feet and legs. Someone was kicking him, and his pack and weapons were immediately torn out of his hands. He was pulled to his knees and dragged by his arms to the front of the inn, where his hands were tied behind his back. Angen and Jeryd were there also. Angen was bleeding from a cut on his forehead, and Jeryd's nose was a bloody mess.

"Too many," Jeryd said, while Angen just made an annoyed grunt as he watched his inn being completely engulfed by flames.

Sheik kept glancing at the shed. Shun was being pulled out of the shed by a rope tied around her neck, but she wasn't making it easy for the soldiers. One got too close and felt her wrath by way of her hooves hitting him right in the gut.

"Control that damn horse!" someone shouted.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?" Gaz said as he appeared before them, marching back and forth and looking at each of them. Even his thick beard managed to look arrogant. "An assassin, his accomplice and the traitor who harboured them both. Gods, I love it when I'm right!" He grinned widely. "This'll be a feather in my cap and no mistake about it."

"Finally conquered your fear of the dark, have you?" Angen asked loudly, glaring at him. "I remember the time you pissed your breeches when you were chosen for night patrol during the war—"

"Shut up, traitor!" Gaz yelled and kicked Angen in the stomach. "Filthy lies won't help you here!"

"Big man, aren't you?" Jeryd asked, spitting out some blood that had run into his mouth. "It's easy to kick someone while they're tied down, isn't it?" It earned him a kick of his own, to the chest this time. He landed on his back, coughing.

"It certainly is," Gaz said with glee in his voice. He stopped in front of Sheik, glaring at him. "What about you? No smart-arse comments to add? Hm?" Sheik remained silent, and Gaz grinned. "Tongue-tied, eh? I would be too if I were outsmarted by a subtle plan like this."

Sheik couldn't resist. "Outsmarted? Subtle?" He glanced over at the burning building. "This is about as unsubtle and unintelligent as a plan could possibly get, and I—"

Kick number three caught him under the chin made him see stars, both real and imaginary, as he fell backwards.

"Think I'm stupid, eh?" Gaz said as he hauled Sheik back on his knees. "We'll see how smart your mouth is when your head is on the butcher's block!"

"Dragging us all the way back to the city, eh?" Angen asked, still heaving a little bit. "Didn't know you were that hungry for theatre..."

"These two are going back to the city," Gaz said and pointed at Jeryd and Sheik. "You, however, my dear friend, won't even be acknowledged. You will die on this very spot, and your body will burn along with your pathetic little inn."

"You bastard!" Angen growled and tried to lunge at Gaz, but was held back by the strong-armed soldiers. "I'll kill you!"

"Nah, I don't think so," Gaz said. He looked over to where Sheik and the others' things had been piled up. Weapons, clothing and supplies had already been taken. Gaz picked something up and turned to them—and Sheik had to suppress a gasp. He was holding his lyre! "Hm, this is high-quality stuff," Gaz said as he plucked a few strings. "Hard to find workmanship of this quality these days." He looked at Sheik. "Yours? Judging by the way you're glaring at me right now, it is. Oh, don't worry; you'll get it back...once I'm done with it."

He smiled evilly and threw the lyre on the ground and, making sure that Sheik was watching, stomped on it several times. The fragile wood splintered and the strings snapped. Laughing, Gaz then kicked the ruined remains of the once-beautiful instrument towards Sheik, who only stared in silence at what had been one of his most precious possessions in the world. Anger welled up in him, and a desire to _**tear his throat out**_ manifested itself in his mind. How he wanted to _**poke his eyes out and break his neck**_!

He shook his head. Those hadn't been _his_ thoughts. He looked up at Gaz, who was clearly expecting an answer. "Thank you for doing that," Sheik said slowly. "Now I won't feel bad when I see you _die_."

"Big words, little boy." Gaz stomped his feet on the ground. "Right, kill the traitor, and make sure _they_ see it!"

Sheik and Jeryd were positioned so that they could see Angen clearly. Gaz watched with a triumphant grin on his face as a soldier drew his sword and prepared to strike Angen at the neck. He raised his weapon, a look of deep concentration crossing his visage and breathed in. Muscles tensed and the sword began to move down.

**THUNK!**

An arrowhead emerged from the executioner's mouth, and his body went slack as the sword fell from his hands and _he_ fell to the ground, stone dead.

**THUNK!  
THUNK!**

Another pair of soldiers fell dead to the ground with arrows sticking out of them. The remaining soldiers scrambled to defend themselves, but five more were felled by arrows before they could organise themselves.

"Stand fast!" Gaz shouted just as another arrow hit the soldier next to him.

"Attack!"

Seven shapes emerged from the darkness close to the bridge, all wielding swords and other weaponry. Three of them discarded the bows that had been firing. There were eight soldiers left on Gaz's side, including himself, and Sheik saw fear in his eyes as he ordered his men forward. The two lines clashed, but the battle only lasted briefly as Gaz's men were cut down one by one by the newcomers. He himself tried to attack the leader of the group, but he was quickly brought to the ground and incapacitated.

Sheik couldn't get a good look at their faces, but Angen was grimacing.

"You again?" he asked. "Though you'd be over the seven hills by now."

"What can I say, I don't like it when my _friends_ are in danger," Rial's voice said as he came into the light. Sheik definitely remembered his face now. "And I decided that we should hang back a little, just in case Gaz here decided to pay a nightly visit."

"Let me go, you traitorous son of a bitch!" the bearded man screamed, struggling against the men holding him.

"I wouldn't be the first t'talk about bein' traitorous, my dear friend," the bald man on the last wanted poster said as he appeared beside Gaz. "You're workin' for the most evil man t'have walked the face of the earth, and you call _him_ traitorous? Sid ought t'teach you a few manners..."

"I say we let Angen decide what to do with him," Rial said and cut the older man free and handed him his sword. "I'm sorry I didn't get here earlier," he said quietly, but loud enough for Sheik to hear him.

"I'm sorry I didn't let you stay," Angen said just as quietly. Rial nodded and took a few steps back. Angen pointed at Gaz with the sword. "Down," he said, and Gaz was forced to his knees. "How does it feel to be on the other end, Gaz? How does it feel to know that I am holding your fate in my hands?"

"Fuck you!" Gaz snarled.

"How eloquent," Angen said and raised the sword. "Hey, Gaz? I _told_ you I'd kill you." He brought the blade down swiftly, and Gaz's body hit the ground. His head rolled a bit further away.

Sheik stared at the headless body, and then stared at Angen, who didn't even seem fazed. He noticed the Sheikah looking at him, and shrugged. "I never said that I was a good man," he said, as if that justified the execution. "Revenge is a powerful motivator." He handed the sword back to Rial. "Thank you for saving my life, Captain."

"My pleasure," Rial said, sheathing his sword. "But it's just Rial now, since I highly doubt I'm still part of the military."

"You're still the cap'n, Cap'n," Sid said firmly.

"Hm," Rial said as he slowly walked over to Jeryd and Sheik, who were still tied up. "I didn't expect to find you gift-wrapped for me, assassin," he said to Sheik, "nor your accomplice." He put a hand on the hilt of his sword. "I ought to kill you both for your crimes." He relaxed. "But then...these past few days' events have cast a shadow of doubt over my conviction that you were responsible for King Robar's death." He crouched down in front of Sheik and stared into his eyes.

"I'm innocent," Sheik said, unwavering.

"Then why did you escape?"

"Because no one would have believed me. Someone planted the poison on me and they tried to beat a confession out of me."

Rial hesitated. "You did not confess?"

"No."

The captain looked worried. "Then we have a very big potential mess on our hands once your princess receives the ransom letter."

"Ransom letter?"

Rial sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I hate politics," he muttered. "Right, so apparently a ransom letter was dispatched to your princess the same night you were captured. You had apparently confessed and someone hoped to gain quite a bit of money in the subsequent negotiation for your return."

"The princess would never agree to such a demand—and I'd rather die before she did!"

"Such spirit for someone so young," Rial said quietly. "I'm still not sure if I believe you're innocent, however."

"He is," Jeryd said. "That's why I helped him escape."

"Your words have no meaning to me, clerk," Rial said sharply. "I have no doubt about _your_ guilt. Innocent or not, he was still a prisoner, and you helped him. That is a crime and punishable by death."

"Rial, give it a rest," Angen said, touching his shoulder. "I can vouch for the Sheikah, and you can't blame the clerk for preventing unlawful torture and a pointless prison sentence, can you?"

"You guarantee for them both?" Rial asked.

"I do."

"Then release them," Rial said and turned to the burning inn. "Angen, may I speak to you in private for a minute?"

"Of course."

Sheik still felt a bit woozy as he rose to his feet, so he accepted Jeryd's support. "Are you alright?" he asked the human, who grinned through the blood covering his face.

"Never better," he said. "Nose isn't broken—probably just tore something in there."

"Shun," Sheik said, turning to look at the shed. She was still there, but had been tied to it, and she was unsuccessfully trying to tear herself loose. He regained his balance and immediately strode over to her and cut her free with a dead soldier's sword. "I'm here," he said calmly. "Don't worry." She snorted and allowed him to pet her. "You're okay..."

Jeryd looked around at the scattered bodies and the building. "I think we owe Angen a new inn," he said.

"I'm the Earl of Hyrule," Sheik said, stroking Shun. "If I find the Hero and we can get out of this kingdom, I'll buy him one."

"I'm sorry about your lyre."

Sheik paused, trying not to think about the broken instrument. "It's just an inanimate object," he said. "It can be replaced."

"But you loved it!"

"And now I can find another one to love." Sheik couldn't even convince himself of that. He knew that a replacement wouldn't be difficult to find, but playing it would never be the same. That was the lyre he had used to teach Link the temple songs. It was the lyre Link had kept safe and returned to him. It was the lyre _he_ had made for him...and now it was gone, nothing more than a pile of firewood and sad coils of string.

 _No, I will not cry because of an instrument!_ he told himself sharply. _And I will definitely not do so in front of these men!_

"Shun is okay, that's all that matters for the moment," he continued as he straightened up and looked at Jeryd. "And we are both fit to travel."

"True, but between you and me," Jeryd said and lowered his voice. "You might want to consider putting on some trousers, first." He looked pointedly at Sheik's bare legs. The nightshirt was travelling dangerously upwards. Sheik yanked it down, blushing. "Besides," Jeryd continued, "I don't think the good captain and Angen are going to let us go just like that." He looked at the group standing a little further away. "Technically, we are his prisoners."

Sheik felt his blood beginning to boil again, just like it had when Gaz had destroyed the lyre. "If they stand in my way," he said nastily, " **I'll kill them**."

Jeryd's eyes widened in surprise and he took a step back. "Whoa, easy! That doesn't sound like you at all!"

Sheik blinked. "What?" _I just said that I wouldn't let them stand in my way. I'll_ _ **DESTROY THEM IF THEY DO!**_ He shook his head. _What's wrong with me? Those aren't my thoughts..._

"Are you okay?" Jeryd asked. "Maybe you should sit down. That blow to your head might have done some damage..."

"I'm fine, I'm fine," Sheik said. "I just...I'm in a bit of a bad mood."

"So am I, but I'm not threatening to bite the heads off our saviours," Jeryd said, sounding unconvinced.

"It's been a very stressful day."

"Well—"

"No, no, no! Absolutely not!"

The outburst from Rial made them both look towards the group. Angen looked annoyed.

"I'm just saying that she is our best bet right now," the ex-innkeeper said. "I'm pretty sure she would sympathise with you and offer help."

"Yeah, you think so?" Rial asked. "And what if she just decides to cut my head off for not interfering with her trial?"

"If you'd interfered she would probably have been executed, so she should be grateful!" Angen tried to smile. "There is nowhere else we can go, captain. Maybe we won't make it all the way there, but at least we'll have tried, right? And who knows what we can do with her on our side?"

Rial looked annoyed, but nodded begrudgingly. "You're right...okay, fine, we'll go there, but don't expect me to like it for a second!" He looked at Jeryd and Sheik. "Right, you two! Saddle up and get ready for the road! We're going north! I want to keep an eye on both of you!"

"I'm not going anywhere with you," Sheik said defiantly. "I have someone to look for."

"You will—"Rial began.

"Kid, you owe me for getting my inn burned down," Angen said, smoothly stepping in front of Rial. "Accompany us north until we reach our destination, and you're free to do as you please, like searching for the Hero of Time, for example."

"That's pretty cheap," Jeryd muttered. "You're not going to say yes, are you?"

"I've no choice," Sheik said bitterly. "Honour compels me to pay him back somehow for saving my life, and if that is how he wants me to repay him, then that is what I shall do." He looked at Jeryd. "I won't be happy about it, however."

"I sure hope you won't," Jeryd said. "At least we'll suffer jointly, eh?"

"Right," Sheik said.

* * *

They set out just as the top floor of the inn collapsed. A swarm of embers rose from the ruins, floating through the air like fireflies and casting reflections in the water. The bodies had been left behind, though Gaz's remains had been thrown on the fire.

Sheik and Jeryd had gotten dressed and were riding between Rial and Angen, apparently to make sure that they didn't escape. Not that Sheik was going to. He ached to go looking for Link, but he knew that wherever the Hero was, he could take care of himself. As soon as they reached their destination, Sheik would race to be at Link's side. And Jeryd wouldn't be far behind, which was, to his surprise, a great comfort.

 _Just a little longer, Link,_ he thought. _Just a little longer..._

* * *

**Soul Remnants  
Chapter 19**

* * *

Victor's fingers clutched at the armrests of his father's throne. He had yet to come to terms that it now belonged to him, and it did not feel right to sit in it. But protocol was protocol, or so he was told. Rehm was very big on it, anyway.

His fingers were completely white, and he ground his teeth as he listened to yet another dissatisfied noble wailing on and on about some minor annoyance concerning soldiers marching through his lands. It ruined his crops, the noble said. It was a valid complaint, had it not been for the fact that Victor knew that said noble did not have any farms or cultivable soil on his lands.

It was just another indication of just how badly things were going for Lumina. Of course, the nobility always wanted more money and would try anything to obtain it, including trying to swindle it out of their ruler, but they usually went with more subtle methods than this. Taking a deep breath, Victor loosened his grip on the throne and ran his fingers over the wood, trying to distract himself. However, when the petulant baron took a step onto the dais on which his throne stood, something snapped in the back of his head.

"...and frankly, I feel that I must demand compensation for my loss in revenue from selling the wheat and—"

"Be quiet!" Victor shouted, glaring at the man. "Baron Sern, I am quite aware of my troop movements through your lands."

After a second's hesitation, the baron opened his mouth again. "And that is causing much damage to—"

"I am also aware of the agreement you signed just last year concerning that particular matter," Victor interrupted. "It stipulated that the king's troops were to be granted passage anywhere in the kingdom, including the nobles' lands. As such, you have no right to complain. I am also more than adequately informed about your lack of farmsteads. I do wonder why you feel it is your right to collect compensation for non-existent crops."

He leaned back in his seat, heart thundering. He had never spoken to anyone like that before. It felt...good. The look on the baron's face as his mouth hung open was quite a prize as well. After half a minute of silence, Victor decided that the baron must have run out of things to say and motioned for his guards to escort him back among the members of the court.

They weren't _his_ guards, though. They were Agon's. The original Royal Guard had all been slaughtered on the night of Rial's betrayal.

Rial...

He felt like he had been stabbed in the heart whenever he thought about the captain, the man who had known him since he was a boy, the man who had stood by him all those years, the man who had supported him ever since the night of his father's assassination...the man who had betrayed him.

He still couldn't believe it. Rial hadn't seemed like the type. He was the only man Victor had ever met that he could safely say was one hundred percent loyal to the throne. Or so he had thought, anyway.

His fingers found one of the deep gouges that had been cut into the throne by one of the traitors' halberds. It had felt so surreal that night.

Victor had just finished granting audiences to court members and was reading through the transcript of his latest conversation as the people left the throne room. Only he and the two guards remained in the throne room by the time he finished reading and announced that he was retiring for the night. That's when it had happened. Both guards had suddenly turned towards him and raised their weapons, swinging them at his head. Only his reflexes (sharpened by Rial's tough training, ironically enough) saved his life at that moment as he dived out of the throne. The halberds had caused quite a bit of damage to the fragile wood. Victor had then called out for help, at which point more royal guards had poured into the throne room, all of them focusing on Victor alone with malice in their eyes.

He was sure his time had come right then, though he couldn't help but wonder _why_. It wasn't like Victor thought of himself as innocent.

 _I know that I will burn in hell for what I have done,_ he thought.

But he had hoped to have enough time to correct _some_ of his father's mistakes, at least. The guards had closed in on him, drawing their weapons and pointing them at him. He had been determined to die like a man, though, and remained standing.

Just as the leader of this particular group of guards had raised his sword to kill him, however, a battle cry had echoed through the throne room, and several soldiers bearing the insignia of General Agon had stormed the room. They shouted orders to defend the king to each other and quickly cut their way through the traitor guards, forming a protective circle around Victor. They finished off the remaining guards and took Victor to Rehm and Agon, who were waiting with more troops in the main hall.

There was a conspiracy, Rehm had informed him, and Agon had just barely uncovered it in time to realise what was happening and dispatch his troops to save him. He also suggested moving Victor to the empty library, which was an easily defendable location.

"My troops and I are ready to die for you, Your Majesty," the general had announced before guiding Victor and Rehm to the library. There was fighting everywhere in the castle. The royal guards tried to regroup, but Agon's troops wouldn't let them, and the traitors were killed where they stood. Only one group of traitors made it as far as the library...and Rial had been leading them.

At first, Victor didn't believe that his closest friend and ally had been behind everything, but seeing him like that, covered in blood that wasn't his own and wearing a mask of pure fury at being thwarted...it left him shocked and unresponsive for the rest of the night. After that...well, he had been in a sort of daze. It had been broken now, though, by the stupid baron and his stupid attempt at extorting him!

He ran his index finger along the edge of a gouge, wondering how much it would cost to repair it. Probably a fortune, just like everything else. He needed to find a way to refill the coffers, and that would—

"Your Majesty," Rehm whispered into his ear, having appeared on the side of the throne. "Are you feeling well?"

"Hm? What?" Victor asked, staring at the councillor.

"I asked if you were feeling well, Your Majesty," Rehm repeated. "You have been staring into space for the past twenty minutes."

"Oh, yes, I'm fine," Victor said and gave Rehm the fakest smile he could muster. The old man had been following him constantly after the attack, doting on him like he was a toddler, as if he was afraid that Victor would crumble any second. It was condescending, but Victor couldn't blame the old man either. "Just...tired, that's all."

General Agon was looking at him with concern from his seat on one side of the throne room, where he could keep a close eye on everything that happened in there.

"We can reschedule the remaining appointments for tomorrow if you would like to retire," Rehm said kindly. "You mustn't overexert yourself so soon after such a traumatic experience."

"No, no, I will meet them now," Victor said, waving his hands. "I feel fine, honest. I appreciate the concern, though."

"As you wish, Your Majesty," Rehm said, bowing and turning to the court. "His Majesty will now see Countess Marlotta of Urne!"

Marlotta...now there was a person Victor _knew_ he couldn't trust. The way she had gotten herself engaged and married to the late count was suspicious in itself, but when said count dies in a horrific accident a few years later and she inherits everything, warning bells tended to be set off. She had yet to have any children, however, and so far she didn't seem to have her eyes set on the throne, which was a relief.

The countess walked up to the dais and stopped a few feet away, curtsying deeply. "Your Majesty," she said.

It took Victor a few moments to compose himself after seeing what the woman was wearing. It looked like a dead duck, for heaven's sake! He nodded. "Countess. What matter do you wish to discuss?"

"Your Majesty," Marlotta said and curtsied again. "As I am sure you are aware, I am still fighting against rebel insurgents on my lands. It appears they have hired mercenaries to fight for them."

"So I have heard," Victor said, nodding.

"While I have been successful in fending them off until now, I do not believe my men will last much longer. They are tired, Your Majesty, and we are running out of supplies. More and more are dying every day. They need reinforcements."

"Haven't General Agon already dispatched several platoons of his men to Urne?" Victor asked, looking at the general, who nodded as he took a sip of wine.

"Most of them did not make it, Your Majesty," Marlotta said sadly. Agon's head snapped to look at her with surprise on his face, nearly choking on his drink.

"What do you mean, countess?"

"The rebels ambushed them on the roads, Your Majesty," Marlotta explained. "Much in the same way they ambushed the tax collectors."

"Why was I not informed of this?" Agon exploded from his seat.

"I was told only three days ago myself, general," Marlotta said with an acidic tone. "Which is why I came here with such haste."

"Why did you not come to me immediately?"

"I felt it more important to inform His Majesty before you, and—"

"How dare you—"

"Silence!" Rehm snapped, his voice booming in the room. "Petty bickering is not welcome in the King's presence! Settle your differences elsewhere!"

"Thank you, councillor," Victor said, wondering how such an old man could command such a presence with his voice alone. "And I will take this matter into consideration," he said to Marlotta. "Please give Councillor Rehm a thorough report before you retire for the night."

"As you wish, Your Majesty," Marlotta said, curtsying a third time and retreating amongst the court members.

As Victor took a sip of wine, he noticed Rehm giving him a displeased look, certainly aimed at his breach of protocol in dismissing Marlotta so soon, which he ignored. He knew exactly how the next half hour would have played out if he'd allowed the countess and Agon to continue arguing like little children—nothing would have been accomplished. He found the gouge in the wood again, noticing it that it was quite deep. He could almost fit his entire hand in there...

"Excuse me, Your Majesty," Rehm whispered at his side again. "But there is an urgent matter I must take up with the countess."

"Very well, you may go," Victor said, not looking at him.

Rehm bowed deeply and retreated after Marlotta, looking rather distressed. One of the guards had been handed the list of audiences, but Victor tuned out his voice as he continued investigating the hole in the wood.

His fingertips brushed against something soft. His eyes widened slightly. It didn't feel like fabric or upholstery. He was sure he looked ridiculous, sitting there with a goblet of wine in one hand and the other halfway inside the throne, but he needed to find out what was inside. It almost felt like...paper. He took the time to nod to the next noble who curtsied and began reading a speech she had prepared before he refocused on retrieving the object. He hissed quietly as he felt splinters digging into his hand, but he kept at it until he managed to trap the paper between his index finger and thumb, carefully pulling it out.

It was an envelope. There was writing on it.

**To my son**

Victor recognised his father's handwriting immediately.

Everything around him fell away. All fell silent. The edges of his vision darkened so that his entire focus was on the envelope and the elegant writing in black ink upon it. The envelope seemed to be at least six months old judging by the slightly faded white, but it didn't have as many creases and folds as one would expect of something that had been sat upon for such a long time. Which meant that the envelope had been placed there not too long ago. Probably just before Robar had been killed.

Victor's breath hitched. His father had written him a letter a long time ago...what did it say? His hands trembled.

"—listening? Excuse me, I—"

"Your Majesty?" the guard said and came to his side, worried eyes looking him over. "Are you well?" He noticed the envelope and reached for it—

"Don't touch it!" Victor exclaimed, grabbing the envelope and clutching it tightly. Swallowing, he realised what he had just done, and saw that the entire room had fallen silent with every member of the court staring at him. "Out," he said. "Out! Get everyone out of here!"

The guard stared at him in silence for a few seconds before nodding. "Very well. His Majesty has decided to end this audience session. Everyone please clear the throne room." He remained standing as people began to shuffle out of the doors, arms crossed.

"The same goes for you," he said to the guards flanking his throne. They looked to Agon for guidance, who waved for them to leave as well.

The massive doors were closed, leaving Victor all alone in the big room. He had no idea how long he sat just staring at the envelope. By the time he slowly opened it, the skies outside had darkened considerably. The letter was not long, barely filling a page. The writing was unsteady, unlike the writing on the envelope.

**To my only son, Victor.**

**If you are reading this letter, then I am dead and you have found it inside the throne. It has been placed there on the order of a loyal servant who shall remain unnamed for their protection.**

**There are so many things I want to say to you, my son. I could wax poetic for pages on how proud of you I am and how strong a king I know you shall be. Stronger than your father and much stronger than your grandfather. You have inherited your mother's kindness and spirit, which makes you far more suitable for the throne than I.**

**However, I am not writing this letter to shamelessly praise you, though I know and wish I had done so more often while I was still alive.**

**I am writing this letter to warn you, my son. One of the things I have learned in my time as king is that more often than not, those you consider your friends are actually your enemies.**

Victor took a moment to look up, deciding that his father was indeed right on that point.

**I have known Councillor Rehm since I was a boy, and always looked up to him as a diplomat and leader, even after I ascended to the throne after my father's death. He has been by my side all these years, always ready with a solution for whatever problem has plagued me. He was with me the day you were born, he was there when your mother passed away, and he was there when I was nearly skewered to death by a traitorous soldier during the last civil war. He saved me that day. He and I have shared every moment of joy, sadness and pain in my life.**

**I know now, however, that it has all been a ruse. I am slipping away, my son. I am losing control of myself. You yourself have most likely noticed this, as I have tended to berate you and shout at you whenever you have approached me as of late, and for that I am deeply sorry, and while it is at best a meagre comfort, I need you to know that it was not intentional. Whenever I see you, something takes over—a primal rage that leaves my body screaming in anger while my mind howls in despair, anguished over my body's actions.**

**It is like I am under some sort of spell—and I believe I know the source: Rehm. I told him about what is happening to me, to which he responded by asking me questions about the kingdom and, more specifically, Prison's Peak. He urged me to reopen the mines there, guaranteeing that it would do wonders for our economy. I said no, that I was obligated by my royal duties to keep it closed. For the first time in my life, I saw Rehm explode with anger and leave the room.**

**After that, I felt my control of my own actions slip further and further away from my grasp, and Rehm has continued to urge me to open the mines, and I have continued to say no. It is getting worse. Whatever is happening to me, I am certain he is behind it.**

**Do not trust Rehm, Victor, do** _**not** _ **trust him. I fear that he is seeking to break the sacred covenant with Goddesses and release the Enlightened One from his prison, and that** _**must not happen!** _ **If he is released, he will seek to finish what he started and unleash yet another cataclysm upon the world. It has been my foremost duty to keep him imprisoned, and now, regrettably, it is yours.**

Victor blinked. Surely his father had not bought into the superstitious nonsense about the Enlightened One? He believed in the existence of the Goddesses—there was more than enough proof of that, but that an all-powerful wizard lay imprisoned under the mountain, still alive after a thousand years? He had always thought it was a fairy tale.

Then again, Rehm had mentioned the Enlightened One when he had convinced Victor to kill his father... He shook his head and continued reading.

**Had it been in my power, I would have had Rehm thrown in the dungeons long ago, but no one is above the law, not even the king, and to accuse someone of grievous crimes without a shred of proof is the quickest way to ensure one's own trip to the gallows. It is therefore up to you to resist Rehm's suggestions. He will try to convince you with every imaginable argument, but I think you will perform admirably.**

**Which brings me to my final warning. If I am dead, then it is probably not from natural causes. Be careful, Rehm might try to assassinate you as well.**

**Gather your allies closely around you. General Mirn is a loyal friend and will always stand by your side, and so will, I suspect, your bodyguard, Captain Vortan. Keep those two close, and you will be safe.**

**Whatever my last spoken words to you were, my son, know that I will always love you and that I am infinitely proud of you.**

**King Robar XI**

Victor stared at the letter, fingers clutching desperately at the last message his father had left for him. Those were the words of the father he had once known—not the one that had masqueraded as the king the months before his assassination, not the one that had spoken so aggressively on how to best engage their imaginary enemies with the mighty airships. His father...

"...and I killed you," Victor said, breath hitching in his throat. "It wasn't even your fault, and I killed you for it!" He screamed and rose from the throne, kicking over the small table piled with fruit next to it, sending grapes flying like they'd been shot out of a cannon. He screamed, expelling all the frustration, anger and sadness that had been steadily building up inside of him after the fateful night of his father's death into one desperate, anguished roar.

Then the tears came, and he felt even worse. On top of everything, on top of all the chaos and confusion he had caused, he couldn't even be enough of a man to deal with his shame in an adult manner!

He sank to his knees, still gripping the letter tightly between his fingers. "Father...I'm so sorry," he whispered, his throat raw. A tear fell onto the paper, instantly smearing some of the ink. He read through the letter again and again, wondering how disappointed Robar would have been if he'd seen his son like this, if he'd known that his own son had had him assassinated on the behest of the man he'd once thought of as his best friend in the world.

Pathetic. The entire situation was pathetic, and it was all Victor's fault.

Then it struck him. He looked at the letter again, blinking away the tears.

**I am infinitely proud of you.**

"I'm not worthy of your praise, Father," he whispered, wiping the tears away with the sleeve of his uniform. With his heart beating, he stood up, staring at the portrait of Robar on the wall. All the problems he'd caused...he'd find a way to solve them. He'd find a way to stabilise Lumina and make it great again. He would rectify every single mistake he had made. Eyes hardening, he took a deep breath and said loudly: "But I will earn it back!"

He carefully folded the letter and put it in his pocket. Rehm couldn't ever find out about it. He wiped away the remainder of the wetness on his cheeks and went back to the throne, sitting down and leaning back. There was a lot to do, and not nearly enough time—and he was alone. Rehm was dangerous, as were Agon and Marlotta, for they seemed to be his closest allies. The last person Victor had trusted had been run out of the castle.

Was Rial truly behind the attack?

"Impossible," he muttered. A lot of things had happened too fast that night. Too many details had been covered up. What could Rial have hoped to gain from killing Victor? The throne? The people wouldn't have accepted it, not even with the state the kingdom was in. Did he do it on someone's orders? No, Victor couldn't imagine Rial doing such a thing.

A frame-up, then. "Yes, that's it...and I know who did it." Victor looked out over the empty throne room. It was time to put his personal feelings aside and take a long, hard look at everything, including himself. He couldn't continue to buckle and fall every time something negative happened, especially not when the blame for it was squarely upon his shoulders. No, it was time for action.

"Step one," he said, "find allies."

Mirn was out of the question. He was busy assisting Hyrule with rebuilding their country, and it would take him months to get back, at which point it could very well be too late, and Rial...well, he was out for obvious reasons. He'd have to send someone to find him—someone who wasn't a subordinate of Agon's, of course. But that was it—that was the length of the list. He groaned. Surely there was someone else, someone he could persuade...

The king's head was buzzing with thoughts when he went to bed that night. The weeks ahead would be busy indeed. And most likely filled with many failures. But it was, he reasoned, a step in the right direction.

* * *

**K,**

**It turns out that our dear employers have come to a decision regarding Blondie Number Two. I intercepted a letter from the countess to her physician saying that he was to be poisoned to death. Naturally, I've taken the liberty of modifying the orders, putting Blondie on a steady diet of red potion that has completely healed his wounds. Of course, the physician will notice that something is wrong pretty quickly, so I will move him when the time is right, which means we have to accelerate our plan. And by "our", I mean "your". I don't know what the hell you're up to, but you had better be prepared for unforeseen complications…which I know is impossible, but you know what I mean! Will meet you at the agreed upon rendezvous point in one week…and you had better have a damn good speech prepared for Blondie if you don't want him to cut your head off the second he sees you.**

**Love, E.**

**PS: I demand a rematch. You know what I'm talking about.**

K dropped the letter into the fire, scratching his chin. New developments were, as a rule, interesting to him. They gave him a chance to put his mind to use, to adapt and strategise. But only when said developments made sense. These didn't. They were just confusing. It was like the conspirators couldn't agree on what exactly they were trying to achieve.

"What the hell is going on here?" he asked himself.

* * *

"Link. Link. Wake up."

The words were whispered into his ears, tender as a lover's. Link rolled over and opened his eyes, blinking in confusion when he found Elenwe's face a few inches from his. She looked worried. A small oil lantern burned with a low flame on the nightstand, barely illuminating the bed area.

"What time is it?" he asked, rubbing his eyes.

"Way past your bedtime, I can tell you that much," the Gerudo said, casting a glance towards the closed bedroom door. "We need to get you out of here immediately."

Link suddenly noticed that she had a stiletto in her hand, and it was covered in blood. He sat up abruptly, scooting away from her. "What are you talking about? What's going on?"

"Shhhh!" Elenwe put held a finger in front of her lips. "Do you want to alert every damn guard in the building?" she hissed. "Just do as I say."

"Hell no," Link hissed back, wondering if calling the guards would be a good idea. Not that he couldn't fight back, of course—his leg was fully healed now. The only evidence of an injury that remained was a strip of pinker-than-average skin where the bolt had hit him. He just felt a bit apprehensive about possibly being caught fighting a member of the countess' staff—there would be room for misunderstandings. "Not until you explain to me what's going on, why you've got a knife covered in blood and why I need to get out of here!" He deliberately raised his voice, which caused the Gerudo to cast another worried glance at the door.

"Alright, alright, I'll explain," she hissed. "Just...stop shouting." She sighed and put the stiletto away, leaving a bloody handprint on the apron of her maid's uniform. "The countess hasn't been honest with you, Link," she said quietly. "She was deliberately slowing down your healing process in order to keep you here."

"What?" Link couldn't believe it. "Why would she do that? She seems like such a nice lady..."

"Nice lady?" Elenwe snorted. "Link, she's one of the conspirators behind King Robar's murder. She's responsible for getting your lover framed, and I wouldn't be surprised if it turns out that the supposed rebel uprising further south is of her own design, either."

Link took a few seconds to process this new information. He liked to think of himself as a good judge of character, and nothing about the countess had struck him as untrustworthy and downright homicidal. "Why would she save me in the first place, then, and treat me nicely?" he asked.

"Bargaining chip, most likely," she answered, shaking her head. "Though for what, I've no idea. Probably wanted to cut some sort of deal with your princess." They heard a thump outside the door, and the Gerudo immediately flew off the bed and silently positioned herself by the door, stiletto at the ready.

"What—"Link tried, but a deathly glare from the Gerudo's golden eyes silenced him.

Over a minute passed by, the tension slowly subsiding. Elenwe relaxed and put the stiletto away again. "As I said, bargaining chip. She had her physician make some sort of potion that slowed down your body's ability to heal itself, which has kept you out of commission for much longer than you should have been."

"How do you know that?" Link asked.

"Because I swapped the potions myself after I identified the problem," she said proudly. "Don't you remember how it started to taste differently that one night?"

"Oh yeah," Link said slowly. "What were you feeding me?"

"Red potion, of course," she said matter-of-factly. "Specially smuggled from Hyrule."

"No, that can't be right. Red potion tastes like everything unpleasant in the world mixed into one horrible drink."

"I sweetened it." Elenwe went for Link's clothes, which lay discarded on the floor. "Get dressed, we're moving out."

"You still haven't explained to me why I have to go," Link said. "The countess isn't here, remember? Besides, her plan failed, I'm up and about, see?" He threw off the bed covers and showed her his healthy leg. "What's she going to do, shoot me?"

"No, she's going to poison you to death," Elenwe said annoyed. "Intercepted a letter to the physician saying you were no longer worth the effort."

"And...the blood?"

"The physician's," she answered. "Made sure that bastard can't poison anyone ever again."

"Who _are_ you?" Link asked, confused.

"I'm not a maid, if that's what you're wondering." Elenwe threw him a glance. "But I'm on your side, and that should be enough for now. The second we're a safe distance away from this place, I promise I will tell you more. Deal?"

Link thought about it for a second, and then nodded. "Deal. But no funny business."

She stared incredulously at him for a few seconds before nodding. "Okay, no funny business. Now let's go!"

Link quickly got changed and strapped on his weapons and shield. Now there was a weight he'd been missing. He drew his sword and gave it a few practice swings. It was amazing just how much his confidence grew as long as he had a sword in his hand.

"Are you done?" Elenwe asked. "Not that I mind heroic posing as a rule, but this isn't exactly the time for it." She went for the door and opened it slightly, peeking through the crack. She drew breath and quickly closed it, backing away. "Soldiers. Two of 'em, armed," she whispered harshly to Link before retreating behind a cupboard. "The light!"

Link extinguished the oil lamp and moved away from the bed, crouching in the shadows and wishing his equipment wasn't so noisy.

The door was opened quietly, and the silhouette of two armed men appeared in the doorway, framed by the light from the hallway as they stepped inside. "Close the door, you idiot!" one of them whispered harshly.

"Sorry," the other said apologetically and did as he was told. "D'you think he's dead?"

"He'd better be," the first replied. "The countess won't like it if we stain the sheets."

Link moved towards the door, circling behind the two guards, his hand on the hilt of his sword. Elenwe's story had some grains of truth to it, it seemed. He tried to find the Gerudo, but she had completely disappeared in the darkness. He could barely see what he was doing himself, in fact, and was worried he'd stumble over something any minute.

"Check him," the first guard hissed.

"You do it," the other said defiantly. "I took care of that village mayor last month."

"Oh for f...fine!" The first guard stalked over to the bed, and Link heard the sound of sheets forcibly tossed aside. "You awake, you bastard?" the guard asked. "It's time to—what the...?"

"What?"

"He's not here!"

"What are you talking about?"

"What could I possibly mean by that, huh? He's not here, you blithering idiot! Hang on, there's a lantern..." He began fiddling with the lamp on the nightstand, and Link felt that it was now time to make a move.

He crept up behind the second guard and kicked him in the back of his knee. The guard buckled with a surprised yelp, and Link soon had his sword's blade at his throat, pressing slightly down on the skin to keep him calm. "Don't try anything," he said loudly. "Or your buddy gets it!"

The first guard sighed in resignation. "Should've known," he said and finally got the lantern lit. He looked at Link and his friend. "Okay, let's not act rashly here. Let him go, and I promise you won't be harmed."

Link growled. "How stupid do you think I am?"

"I was hoping you were as stupid as that bastard," the guard said, pointing at the one Link was holding hostage. He drew his sword and looked positively bored. "I hope you realise there's no way out of this place. There are guards everywhere, and they're all under strict orders to keep you from leaving this mansion alive. I don't know how you survived the poison, but I can guarantee that you won't recover from a hundred swords hacking you to pieces."

"Which is why we're taking the tunnels," Elenwe said loudly as she came up behind the guard and stabbed her stiletto into his throat. The man gave a surprised gulp, dropping his sword, which clattered on the floor. Elenwe ripped the stiletto out of his throat and stabbed him in the chest, kicking his legs out from underneath him. He crashed to the floor with a loud bang and lay still, making small choking sounds that grew weaker and weaker. Elenwe looked at Link, eyeing the hostage. "Finish him so we can get the hell out of here."

Link paused. "Finish him...?" he asked.

"If we don't kill him he'll alert the entire mansion," she said, rolling the first guard over and checking his pulse. "And then we'll both get killed."

It made sense, of course, but... "Can't we just knock him out, I mean—"

"He knows too much, and there's no telling how long he'll be out for." She finished checking the dead guard, looked at Link and the other guard and rolled her eyes. "Never killed in cold blood before, huh?"

"Yes I have," Link snapped, perhaps a bit too quickly. "It's just...they were sleeping back then," he said, remembering the men whose throats he'd cut at Lake Hylia. That was the night he'd met Vorpheus for the first time...that had been an interesting acquaintance.

"I see," Elenwe said, looking pityingly at him for a few seconds before clicking her tongue. "Fine, I'll do it," she said in a resigned tone and hurled the stiletto right into the second guard's eye. He remained upright for a few seconds; as if his body had trouble processing the fact that it was now dead before slumping over, with Link's grip on his armour slackening.

"Wha...how..." Link stared at the blank face of the guard. The stiletto had sunk right down the hilt, which stuck grotesquely out of the man's right eye. Elenwe came over and ripped it out, wiping the gore off on the guard's clothes.

"Never hesitate," Elenwe said, patting him on the shoulder. "The second you do, you've lost. Now come on, follow me." She thrust his pack into his hands and went for the door, opening it and peeking into the hallway. "It's clear. The idiots probably thought you'd kicked the bucket already—didn't even bother having someone wait outside. The tunnels aren't far from here."

"Tunnels?" Link asked, still staring at the body on the floor. He was young, probably around Link's age.

"All nobles have their own routes of escape should they come under siege," the Gerudo said quietly, pulling Link into the hallway, away from the bodies. "The countess' happens to be through her bedchambers. Not sure where they lead, but anywhere is better than here, right?"

Link followed her slowly along the hallway. He'd only seen that kind of ruthlessness when it came to killing in one individual—Sheik. He'd almost forgotten how efficient and emotionlessly Sheik would go about his task, how much it scared Link sometimes to see the empty expression on his lover's face whenever he was forced to kill someone. It was the expression of someone who was far too used to it. Elenwe had it too.

As they stalked through the mansion, evading patrolling guards and wandering servants, he couldn't help but wonder why he was allowing her to lead him. For all he knew, she could have been leading him from one frying pan to another. But she _had_ saved him...and why would she save him only to kill him later?

He didn't like it, but he supposed he had to trust her for now.

They had ascended three stories now, and they finally reached the countess' bedchambers. There was a problem, however.

"Crap," Elenwe whispered, pushing Link and herself into a small alcove. "Aina..."

"Who?"

"Look. By the door."

Link looked. A woman was standing outside the door to Marlotta's chambers. She was wearing the same outfit as Elenwe, though hers had an addition in the form of a gold pendant around her neck. She looked like she was in her thirties, perhaps, and had a strict and serious face. Her nose could have been used as a spear, Link thought.

"It's a woman," Link said to Elenwe. "A maid."

"Look again, you idiot," Elenwe hissed, pointing at the woman's side. Link gulped. A long, curved sword in a sheath hung there. "That's the countess' most trusted aide, Aina," Elenwe explained. "She's rarely around in the mansion, but keeps the rest of the staff in a near-constant state of terror, even when she's hundreds of miles away. They say she's a guild assassin and has personally killed hundreds of people."

"A rumour?" Link asked.

"Maybe...but she knows how to fight," Elenwe answered. "And that's the important part. It seems she's anticipated something like this happening."

"Then why hasn't she brought any guards?"

"Hell if I know..."

"Elenwe, Hero of Time," Aina said, looking at the alcove, her voice melodious and playful, a sharp contrast to her face. "Why are you hiding over there? I can see you both, you know."

"Crap," Elenwe whispered again. "It was worth a shot." Shrugging, she emerged from the alcove, closely followed by Link. "Better be ready for a fight, Hero, but if my plan works, we'll be outta here in minutes," she muttered. Then she smiled widely at Aina. "Matron, your eyes are as keen as your beauty is great," she said. "I am impressed."

"As am I," Aina said, grinning joylessly. "Impressed that you have both so heartlessly tossed aside the countess' generosity and hospitality by murdering her personal physician and two of her most trusted guards...seems rather rude to me." She drew her sword. It shone brightly in the lamplight. "It appears that I must teach you both a lesson."

Elenwe began fiddling with the hem of her skirt. "I d-don't know what you are t-talking about, matron...the h-hero and I w-were just taking a walk—"Her hands disappeared further and further up her skirt. Her fake stuttering didn't even convince Link.

"Do you think I'm an idiot?" Aina asked. "The countess may not have seen through your lies, but I did."

"I d-don't think y-you're an idiot, m-matron," Elenwe said, smiling. Link heard a barely audible clicking sound beneath her skirt. "But I do think you're slow on the uptake!" One of Elenwe's hands pulled out some kind of device, which she aimed at Aina. Another click and a bolt shot out of it and struck Aina in the chest, sending her crashing to the floor and screaming in pain.

"Guards! Guards!" she shouted, her sword forgotten as she clutched the bolt sticking out of her.

"Come on, Hero!" Elenwe shouted as she kicked open the door to the bedchambers and rushed inside. "Barricade the door!"

Link did as he was told, pulling a heavy dresser in front of it. "It's not going to hold them for long," he said.

"Doesn't matter, we won't be here when they get through it," Elenwe said. She was standing by the countess' impressively large bookshelf and pulling at random volumes. "Come on, come on, which one is it?" she said impatiently.

Something crashed into the door, and Link did his best to push back. Aina's screams could still be heard outside. "Might wanna hurry it up!" he said.

"I'm trying to!" Elenwe bit back. She cursed and began throwing books out of the shelf as she went along. "She told me it was in the bookshelf, damn it!" With a growl of annoyance she tore at one final volume, which resisted and let out a loud creak as something began moving under their feet. At the other end of the room, a section of wall swung inwards to reveal a narrow staircase leading down. Elenwe looked at Link with a triumphant expression. "Found it!"

Link was going to congratulate her on a job well done when something incredibly heavy crashed into the door with such force that he and the dresser were flung back from it. A hole had been punched into the solid wood, and soldiers were looking inside. "One more, lads, one more!" someone shouted, and they pulled back their ram, preparing another strike.

"Link, come on!" Elenwe dragged him to his feet and pulled him with her into the hidden passage, pushing a button on the other side that made the wall swing back, sealing the entrance. "Let's go!"

"What was that thing?" Link asked as they quickly went down the stairs.

"What, this?" the Gerudo asked, brandishing the metallic framework. "It's a crossbow, duh!"

"I've never seen one made of metal before...or that small," Link said.

"That's because it' a very recent invention. My partner made it. It's not meant for punching through armour, so it doesn't have to be as strong, big and heavy as a normal crossbow, and it folds together so it's easy to disguise." She patted it and folded it, replacing it under her skirt. "Just strap it to the side of your leg and you're golden."

"Good to know. Very...clever," Link said, unsure of whether he meant it sincerely or not.

"We've got to hurry," Elenwe said. "They're bound to find out which book opens the entrance soon, and Aina's probably dispatched soldiers to the location where the tunnel ends. We don't want to be bogged down."

"You know what I miss?" Link said as they reached the bottom of the stairs. "A time where I wasn't constantly being chased and attacked!"

"Been chased a lot, huh?"

"Ever since I was ten!"

They ran for well over an hour by Link's estimate. At some point, the soldiers had managed to open the tunnel and follow them, but they seemed to have trouble fitting their armour through the tunnel due to its narrowness. Link and Elenwe heard the constant shouting and screaming of the guards behind them, but they never seemed to be able to catch up with them.

They eventually reached an iron ladder leading straight up. "You first," Link said. Elenwe hesitated, but began to climb. The soldiers' voices were getting louder now. Footsteps were approaching quickly.

"Damn, this thing is heavy!" Elenwe shouted. She was lifting what seemed to be a circular iron lid at the top of the ladder. She grunted and made a final heave, and it slid aside, making an unholy racket. "Come on, Link!"

"Right." Link turned around and put his hands on the rungs. Something slammed into the wall beside him. A crossbow bolt. He had never climbed a ladder as fast as he did right then, scrambling upwards like his legs were on fire. Elenwe grabbed his hand and pulled him up when he reached the top, and then slid the lid back on. One final bolt flew up from the tunnel, barely missing her cheek.

Link looked around, hoping to spot something to weigh down the lid. They were in a forest, in the middle of a clearing of sorts. He noticed a statue of some lady or other on a pedestal that was overgrown with moss.

"Help me with this!" he yelled and began to push it towards the lid. Elenwe joined him, and together they made the statue fall over, breaking into several pieces that landed on top of the lid, effectively sealing it shut. Someone banged on in from inside the tunnel, shouting.

"Good luck opening it from _that_ side," Elenwe said, grinning.

"Okay, what now?" Link asked, looking around. There wasn't much to see apart from the fain tree line in the darkness.

"We get the hell out of here before more soldiers come. Listen," Elenwe said. There was a faint rumbling sound, barely audible. "Horsemen. They're coming." She looked around again. "I've no idea where the hell we are, but we can't stay here. We'll have to move for a while until I get my bearings."

"Will you answer my questions now?" Link asked as they headed for the trees.

"As long as we're not in danger of being heard, sure," the Gerudo said. "Hang on." She stopped, fiddled with her clothes and eventually ripped the whole skirt off the outfit, revealing a pair of _very_ short shorts underneath. She unstrapped the collapsible crossbow from her leg and stowed it in a large pocket on her shirt. "Brrr," she said, teeth chattering. "Wish I'd thought of bringing a pair of pants before we left. But it can't be helped, I guess. A skirt would just be in the way, especially a poofy one like that."

"I think I've got a spare pair somewhere," Link said as he began to rummage through his pack.

"All due respect, Hero, but I don't think your pants would fit me," Elenwe said with a smile. "I'd drown in them."

"Yeah, but not in Sheik's," Link said happily and pulled out a pair of trousers he knew belonged to the Sheikah. "Can't have you freezing to death while we're talking, can we?"

"Dare I ask why you have your lover's pants in your pack?" Elenwe asked. She pulled on the trousers, eyes widening. "Damn, I knew he wasn't very big, but _petite_?"

"I know," Link said, shaking his head. "He's always been like that, apparently. Anyway, I have his pants because I won them off him, fair and square." He grinned.

"So, what, he's not allowed to wear pants when you're around, or something?" she asked. She hopped over a fallen tree.

"Depends on the company," Link said. "There was this one time in this village—

"Forget that I asked," the Gerudo said. She cocked her ears again. "They're getting closer. We'd better pick up the pace."

While they ran through the woods, practically blind and more than likely to stumble and fall over an errant tree stump, Link began to compile a list of questions in his head. He still wasn't sure if he trusted Elenwe completely, but she was his best bet on surviving for now. Who knew, maybe she'd help him find Sheik afterwards? He could only hope...

* * *

**Soul Remnants  
Chapter 20**

* * *

"You okay?"

Sheik blinked and looked to his side. Jeryd was looking at him. "What?" he asked.

"You've been staring at the same spot for half an hour," Jeryd said. "You seemed pretty deep in thought…was just wondering if you're okay."

"I'm fine," Sheik replied, smiling a little. "I was just thinking."

"About what, if I may ask?" Jeryd said as he seated himself beside the Sheikah, shielding his eyes from the sun with his hand.

They were in a small clearing a few hundred feet off a small road that would supposedly lead them to wherever they were going—which Angen and the others refused to elaborate on. They only moved during the night, for the king's men patrolled the roads during the day. It resulted in very slow going, and Sheik was starting to feel frustrated with their pace—even more frustrated than he'd been during his recovery.

"I don't think you even need three guesses," Sheik said.

"The Hero."

"Yes...but not just him." Sheik sighed. "I'm worried about Epona and Maladict as well. And Kaiza."

"Kaiza?" Jeryd looked confused.

"My falcon...or, rather, the princess' falcon that she has lent to me." Sheik looked up to the sky. "I've been trying to call her, but she hasn't answered."

"Is that why you've been whistling?" Jeryd asked. "Because the captain thinks that you're trying to attract the attention of soldiers in order to get him and his men caught."

"Of course he does," Sheik said, casting a glance towards the sleeping Rial. He was sitting against a large oak, snoring quite loudly for someone who insisted on them being stealthy. "Because the soldiers I attract _certainly_ won't execute me on the spot when they come. The man is probably the most paranoid individual I've ever met. He's even worse than my aunt!"

Jeryd looked at the captain as well. "I agree, he does seem a bit...high-strung. Can't really blame him, though, if his story is true. It's a low blow, being accused of trying to kill the man you're supposed to protect. And seeing you, the boy he believes killed the _other_ man he was supposed to protect...it has to be pretty rough."

"True, but he does not need to be such an utter pilock about it..."

Jeryd smiled. "You're funny when you're annoyed, you know that? You get all high-and-mighty, and you talk snootily."

Sheik raised his eyebrows. "Do I, now? I resent such allegations—"

"See?"

"I was playing along," Sheik said, sighing again. "I figured a trained, worldly and elegant assassin such as yourself would realise that, but I suppose even humans have their limits..."

"Oh, the sarcasm," Jeryd said, clutching his chest dramatically, as if he'd been stabbed. "It is as if a thousand white-hot daggers have been sunk into my chest! How will I _ever_ recover?"

Sheik couldn't contain a grin. "You're an oaf."

"And you're a snob. We both know which is worse."

They laughed a little; both trying to keep their voices down in cases someone on the road heard them and came to investigate. Jeryd put a hand on Sheik's shoulders and squeezed slightly.

"I'm sure they're all fine," he said. "You just need to be patient."

"I know," Sheik replied, appreciating the support. He scoffed. "It's funny," he said.

"What is?"

"Patience used to be one of my virtues, but after meeting the Hero...it's as if it's evaporated. Every day, hour, minute and second that I'm away from him is like torture, far worse than any physical pain I've ever been exposed to. I'd gladly take another night at the hands of Hatra than to ever be separated from Link like this again." He lay back in the grass, ignoring the slight dampness from last night's rain. "I must sound so pathetic..."

"No, you don't," Jeryd said. He stood up, brushing leaves from his behind. "If more people loved each other like you two do...maybe the world would be a better place. It's my turn to take watch. Try and get some sleep, we're moving again in a couple of hours, after sunset."

Sheik looked at Jeryd as he relieved one of Rial's soldiers and struck up a conversation with Angen by the edge of the clearing. He hadn't missed the tone in Jeryd's voice when he'd spoken. Longing. But for whom? He closed his eyes and tried to find a comfortable position. _I'll need to investigate this,_ he thought just before he fell asleep.

* * *

Sheik had a feeling that their procession was an interesting sight. In the front, a ridiculously keyed up royal guard captain in bloodstained armour rode closely followed by an equally tense innkeeper who'd been gently vibrating with a smouldering rage ever since his inn had been burned down. Behind him rode a ratty-looking man with a far too well-groomed patch of a beard who always seemed to have his eyes on everything all at once. Then came one of Rial's guards, followed by Sheik, who kept glancing back in order to make sure that Jeryd hadn't fallen off his horse, which the human was clinging to with every fibre of his being. After them rode the rest of Rial's men.

"I don't think she appreciates having her ears twisted like that," Sheik said after Jeryd nearly took another tumble off his mount's back. The man scowled at him, easing his grip on the poor horse's ears ever so slightly.

"Well excuse me for not wanting to fall and break my neck," Jeryd growled back. "I can't believe you talked me into this!"

"Talked you into it?" Sheik said, raising an eyebrow. "As I recall, you invited yourself along. It's not my fault that you're afraid of horses."

"I'm not afraid of _horses_!" Jeryd hisses. "I'm afraid of falling _off_ them!" At that moment, his horse decided to snort loudly, which made the human emit a high-pitched whine as he tried to get as far away from her head as possible while simultaneously wrapping his arms around her neck in a death-grip. Some of the men in the back laughed quietly to themselves, and Jeryd's blush could even be seen by the others. "Okay, maybe I'm a _little_ scared of horses...why do they have to make so many sounds?"

"Because they're alive?" Sid said from two places ahead. "It's genr'lly a feature of life, them sounds..."

"Wasn't asking for _your_ opinion," Jeryd muttered.

"Hey, shut up back there," Rial whisper-shouted from the front. "Do you _want_ us to get caught?"

"Doubt we'll get caught on this road," Angen said, his voice low and angry, like it had been ever since he'd killed the man who'd torched his inn. "Few know about it, fewer still use it. Used to be troll country."

"We've encountered and barely been able to hide from two patrols along this road already," Rial said, "I'd rather we kept the noise to a minimum. _Especially_ if there are trolls about."

"I have a question that I'd like answered before we go silent again," Sheik said, knowing he was pushing his luck. The captain hated his guts and only tolerated him because Angen was there. "Where are we going, exactly?"

"That is none of your business, assassin," Rial said simply and turned his head back to the road ahead. "Now, everyone shut the hell up!"

"It is my bloody business since I'm going there," Sheik whispered to himself, annoyed by the dismissal.

"Just let it go," Jeryd said quietly. "He's an ass."

"I'd still like to know if I'm walking into a place where they'll kill me the second they see me." Sheik turned his head to look at Jeryd again, and rolled his eyes. "Get your feet back into the stirrups or you're just _begging_ to have an accident."

"Quiet back there!"

 _Huh, fine!_ He thought. _Maybe I should just disappear the next time we make camp. It doesn't seem like the good captain is too familiar with this area, and Angen probably wouldn't sell me out, regardless of what he's said...but I do owe him my life...and I did give my word...damn it. What, nothing to add? Good._

They rode on for another hour or so, emerging from the trees and into a large, stony field. An old sign pointed to an abandoned quarry, but the path was overgrown by plants, indicating that it had not been used for a long time, not even by the occasional rider. Rial halted them and began consulting a map together with Angen.

Sheik looked around the field. Here and there grew a tree, but several of them had been broken in half, seemingly by the wind. The air smelled of wet grass, soil and...what was it? It was sweet, yet repellent at the same time. Jeryd came up alongside him, also looking around. There was no trace of his earlier fear of horses. His face was completely serious.

"Smell that?" he asked quietly.

"Mhm," Sheik answered. "What do you think it is? Dead animal?"

"A great number of them, if that's the case." He narrowed his eyes and stared at the winding path towards the quarry, which disappeared behind a small hill. "Might be poachers."

"Let's hope." There was something else that was bothering Sheik as well. His head felt heavy and empty at the same time. It was the sensation that filled you when someone had just unleashed a powerful spell or done something that discharged an ungodly amount of magical energies...but it usually passed within seconds. Here, it didn't ebb at all. It encompassed the entire field, by the feel of it. There was a massive concentration of magic here, unlike the rest of the kingdom where he'd hardly felt any.

He looked around yet again, hoping to spot the source. There was an odd stone in the distance, barely visible in the moonlight, even to him. It looked overgrown by moss. Sheik looked at Rial and Angen, who were still deeply focused on the map, and urged his mount towards the stone. Jeryd and Shun followed him closely, but silently.

"And where d'ye think ye're goin'?" Sid asked as he sidled up next to them.

"Just having a look around," Sheik said.

"Then you don't mind me taggin' along?"

"Be our guest," Jeryd said, glaring at the man, who only smiled innocently back.

They were in the middle of the field now and coming up on the stone...which turned out to be more of an obelisk. Its sides and edges were cut with precision. Sheik dismounted, nearly falling to the ground as the magical energy nearly overwhelmed him. It was pulsing here, and the source was definitely the obelisk. The base of the obelisk was covered in moss, which he began to pull away, revealing letters that had been cut into the stone. It was not a language he recognised. The letters seemed to glow slightly in sync with the pulse.

"What...what is this?" he asked no one in particular.

"Is something wrong?" Jeryd asked. He didn't seem bothered by the magic at all, nor did Sid, who was looking at the obelisk with the same disinterest one would offer while watching grass grow.

"You can't feel it?" Sheik asked.

"Feel what?"

"The magic!"

"Magic?"

"Might want to keep yer mouth shut about that, boy," Sid said, suddenly perking up. "The cap'n ain't the biggest fan, y'see..."

"You can't feel the pressure?" Sheik asked again. "This...thing is filled to the brim with it!"

The horses certainly did. They were fidgeting and throwing their heads nervously. Even Shun, who usually didn't let environments like this affect her.

"I can't feel anything," Jeryd said as he dismounted as well. "But I can tell you what this thing is. It's a Node."

"Oh god, here we go," Sid muttered while rolling his eyes.

"A thousand years ago," Jeryd continued, ignoring the groans from Sid, "the Enlightened One had these constructed all over Lumina before he declared war on the Goddesses." He touched the base and ran a finger along the edge of a letter. "It is said that he poured much of his power into these in order to rip the Sacred Realm apart and expose the Goddesses to the world, anchoring them to this plane of existence. That was how he was going to destroy them—draw them into our world and trap them here."

"How would that help, exactly?" Sheik asked, trying to keep himself focused on Jeryd, but it was difficult. "They'd still be gods and immortal..."

"I suppose he had a plan that never came to fruition," Jeryd said, shrugging. "If you believe that nonsense, of course."

Sid snorted. "Only wee children do."

"What, magic?"

"Nah, the Enlightened One."

"Whether the story is true or not, this thing is so full of magic that I'm surprised it hasn't exploded from the instability," Sheik said, stepping away from the obelisk. His head was spinning, and he tripped over his own feet as he tried to get back to his horse. Jeryd caught him.

"Sheik, what's wrong?" he asked.

"I'm fine, just a little dizzy...I just need to put some distance between myself and it and I'll be fine."

Jeryd helped Sheik back into his saddle and kept him steady with a hand on his shoulder as they rode away from the obelisk. The further they got from it, the better Sheik felt. By the time they got back to the others, he was feeling better.

 _It's like being close to Vorpheus again,_ he thought, _only a thousand times more powerful._

"Right, I think I've found us a shortcut," Rial announced upon their return, exchanging nods with Sid as if they had confirmed something. "We'll cut through the quarry and go along a more isolated path that will take us all the way up to the fortress. Shouldn't be more than a few days' march."

"Fortress?" Jeryd asked. "Are you talking about Æsir Fortress? Is that where we're going?"

"That is correct," Rial said, folding the map together. "They won't be happy to see us, I can guarantee that."

"Am I missing something?" Sheik asked.

"It's a long story," Jeryd said. "There's a lot of bad blood between the troops stationed there and...well, the rest of the kingdom, really."

"A long story that we do not have the time to hear," Angen said. "The sooner we get out of here the better. I don't like that smell."

"Me neither," said Rial. "We're moving out!"

* * *

The smell only got more and more intense as they moved through the quarry. It was definitely the scent of something dead, or possibly dying, and it made everyone nervous. The horses were visibly distressed, eyes rolling in all directions, as if trying to spot a threat.

They rode past old steam engines of some sort that had been used to power the quarry equipment. They had long since rusted.

"I don't get it," Jeryd said quietly, seemingly to himself. "If this used to be troll country, why build a quarry here? Was it worth the risk?"

"Maybe that's what drove the trolls away?" Sheik suggested.

They moved past an old mineshaft that had been blocked by a larger boulder. A large path went past several more, every single one sealed up tight.

 _Guess they didn't just cut up rocks here,_ Sheik thought. "Why seal them up?" he whispered to Jeryd.

"Safety?" he offered, shrugging.

The heavy silence that had covered them was suddenly lifted as Angen's horse reared violently, tossed him off and sped ahead, disappearing behind a pile of crushed stone. One of the guards helped Angen up. He rubbed his back and cursed quietly. "The hell was that about?" he asked loudly.

"It's this place," Rial said. "It's put everyone on edge, even the horses. Jonah, get it back, will you?" he asked another of his men, who saluted and set off after the runaway. "You didn't break anything, did you? Your hip?" he asked Angen.

"I'm not that old, kid," the innkeeper said sourly.

"You're getting there."

"Very funny."

They waited for ten minutes, after which Jonah returned empty-handed. "Sorry, Captain," he said apologetically. "It got away. It's like it vanished from the face of earth."

"There's gotta be a billion paths leading away from here," Angen said. "There's no way we'll be able to find it before dawn."

"We'll have to leave it, then," Rial said, offering a hand to Angen and helping him up into the saddle behind him. "We can't waste any more time."

They had ridden for no more than fifteen minutes when they suddenly heard a loud whinny coming from somewhere in the quarry, followed by a monstrous roar and the thumping sounds of heavy footsteps. The horse whinnied again, the pitch growing higher and higher before it was cut off abruptly.

"Oh, no..." Jeryd whispered.

"What, what?" Sheik asked.

There was another roar, closer this time. The ground shook as the thumping came closer, and the horses were starting to panic.

"That, my friend, is a troll!" Angen yelled, holding onto Rial for dear life as the captain's horse began to fight against its master.

With the third roar, whatever composure their mounts had left vanished, and all of them set off in different directions, desperate to get away from the creature whose footsteps were coming ever closer. They bucked and tossed, throwing their riders off their backs one by one. Sheik managed to stay in his saddle for quite some time before he too was forced to yield to gravity unless he wanted his head taken clean off by an old engine. He hit the ground, landing on his arm. He groaned as he stood up, just in time to see the monster appear from behind a cliff wall.

It was ugly. Tall as three men standing on each other's shoulders, it was vaguely humanoid, but misshapen, with asymmetric musculature and covered with grey, mottled skin that seemed more reminiscent of rock than anything else. One arm was long and terminated in long, crooked fingers with sharp nails. The other was thick and strong with a club-like fist, in which the carcass of Angen's horse was clutched, its head missing. Its legs were of different lengths and it hobbled along on them. It stooped like an old woman, a massive hump on its back. But the worst was the head. Or heads. It had three of them, but only the one in the middle seemed to possess eyes. Its mouths, filled with rotting teeth that could better be described as stalagmites and stalactites, were covered in blood, and its noses were wriggling as it sniffed the air, the beady eyes quickly focusing on the group of tossed riders.

Its eyes fell on Sheik, and it stared. Sheik stared back. The troll drew a deep breath and let out another horrifying roar that seemed to pierce his very being. It tossed aside the horse carcass and bounded towards the riders, who were quickly dissolving into a state of panic.

"Troll! Troll!" someone shouted.

"Stand fast! Kill it!" someone else added.

"With what?" another asked. "We don't have spears!"

"Use your sword!"

"This fucking toothpick?"

"Don't just stand there!"

Sheik's hand went for his daggers, but his fingers found nothing. His weapons had been in his horse's saddlebags. Cursing, he looked around for something, anything that he could use as a weapon.

The troll reached one of Rial's men. Growling, it lashed out with the massive club fist, which the man ducked under and rolled to his feet. Screaming, he charged the monster and started hacking away at its legs. The attacks didn't even draw blood, and the troll stood there for a few seconds, watching the man in apparent confusion, probably wondering what the little ant was trying to do. Then it roared angrily and lashed out with the club fist again. It struck the guard right in the chest and sent him flying over a pile of rubble.

Jeryd appear at Sheik's side, clutching the dagger Sheik had given him. "I don't think this is a fight we can win," he said.

"Hey, hey, over here! You big ugly bastard!" Rial called, waving his arms in an attempt to distract the creature while Angen and another guard went to retrieve the fallen one. It fell for the trick and went after the captain, who ran away and ducked between a pair of steam engines, crawling out on the other side, leaving the troll to wonder where its prey had gone.

Sheik watched the monster scratching its multiple heads in confusion. "Tell me," he asked. "How high would you say its intelligence is?"

"Very low, if any," Jeryd said. "They're thick as doorknobs, really."

"Ah, good, because I believe I have a plan—"

The troll seemed to spot Sheik again, its eyes focusing on him as it roared and charged towards them.

"Tell me later!" Jeryd shouted as he ran for it.

"Deal!" Sheik replied as he went the other way, squeezing himself into a narrow passage between two massive iron carts. _Oh, this was not smart,_ he thought as he pushed himself through. _If it hits these things while I'm still in here, I'll be crushed!_

The troll seemed to have the same idea as it struck out at the carts, slamming two of the ends together, nearly crushing his right arm into mush.

He barely emerged in time—the two carts were slammed together by the troll, which spotted him immediately and bellowed, showering him in bloody spit that stank of death and decay. _No time to gag, have to move!_ He stumbled to his feet and turned to continue running, but found himself facing a cliff wall. It was completely smooth, and Sheik knew he wouldn't find a grip. He felt movement behind him and ducked, barely avoiding the long-nailed hand as it swiped at him. The club hand came out of nowhere and nearly swept him off his legs, the only thing keeping him from becoming an anonymous pool of pulp on the ground being his reflexes.

**THUD!**

The troll jerked and let out a howl, its hands clutching the back of its centre head. An arrow shaft stuck out from it, but it didn't seem to do anything but enraging the creature. Sid was standing with his bow, looking decidedly disappointed that his attack hadn't worked. Sheik heard him curse loudly as the creature went after him instead. Another guard—Jonah—tried to shove his sword into the troll's groin, but it kicked him aside and impaled him on a fence.

Now it had cornered Sid, and things didn't look good. Sheik frowned. His plan, which had been hastily formed and had relied on many assumptions, was useless. He'd thought that the creature would be slow as well as stupid, but it was much faster than its bulk suggested.

"A little help?" Sid shouted.

Sheik had no idea what to do. Nevertheless, he ran for Jonah's impaled body and retrieved the man's sword. He made the mistake of trying to hold it in his left hand, but it was liable to slip out of his grip than to be of any actual use. He switched to his right , which wasn't his strongest arm at the moment. The sword wasn't very well balanced either, but it was better than nothing.

Rial and another guard came charging from the side, hacking uselessly away at its legs. It had about as much effect as the other attacks, but once again it distracted the troll, but the other guard wasn't fast enough to avoid the massive fingers that wrapped around him and lifted him clear off the ground. He screamed as the creature brought him close to its middle face, regarding him with the same confused expression as before, and then it opened its mouth and bit his head clean off.

Sheik felt sick. The headless body was tossed aside like a ragdoll. Rial didn't move, looking like he was paralyzed with fear. Then he began to shake, and a look of rage came across his face. He howled with anger and attacked the creature anew, furious at the loss of his men.

"That bloody idiot," Sheik muttered. "Going to get himself killed like that." He adjusted his grip on Jonah's sword and ran towards the troll, wondering what the hell he was going to do. _I hate improvising!_ He glanced towards Sid and saw that Jeryd had joined him, wielding another bow. _Where did he get that?_

"Argh!"

The troll had knocked Rial off his feet, and the captain was trying to crawl away as the troll came closer and closer, looking positively thrilled at the idea of a new plaything. Sheik ran faster, desperately trying to come up with a plan. Surely there was something he could use!

Attacking the legs was useless, that much he had learned. He supposed that's why the guards had lamented the lack of spears. Clearly the upper body where one should attack, but how to get up there?

An old overturned mining cart lay close to the creature. It wasn't very tall, but it would have to do. _This is either going to go really well, or really bad,_ he thought as he prepared to jump.

"Let go, you son of a bitch!" Rial screamed. The troll was trying to grab his legs, for some reason. There was nowhere to run now...

Sheik reached the cart and jumped. He barely touched it, before bouncing up and landing right on top of the creature's impressive hump. It didn't seem to notice he was there. Wasting no time, Sheik stabbed Jonah's sword into its back, the blade cutting through the flesh with ease. That caught the troll's attention and it howled in pain while waving its arms around in an attempt to remove the irritating pest on its back. Sheik held on for dear life as it spun around, blood spilling from the wound. It didn't seem to have any other effect than pissing it off, however, and if something didn't happen soon he'd slip and fall off.

"Oi, ugly!"

"Eat this!"

**THUD!  
THUD!**

Two arrows struck the troll in the right and left heads respectively. It howled again, but stopped spinning in order to fumble clumsily at the shafts. It bent forward, as if being closer to the ground would make things better, exposing its fleshy neck. The skin there wasn't half as rough as on the rest of its body. Sheik saw his chance and withdrew Jonah's blade from its back.

"The middle head, assassin! The middle head!" Rial shouted.

Sheik grunted as he sunk the sword into the troll's neck, twisting it as much as he could before jumping off, still clutching the blade as it cut its way through skin, muscle and bone. He hit the ground with another pained grunt, the sword clattering to the ground beside him. The troll, its middle head hanging on by a thin thread of skin, lurched around for a few seconds before collapsing on top of a steam engine. It drew one last breath, and then it lay still.

The battlefield remained silent for a few seconds, and then every sighed in relief. The troll was dead.

Jeryd and Sid stood whooping on the pile of rubble they'd been shooting from, shouting their congratulations. Sheik stood up and stared at the huge body, shuddering. _That was probably one of the stupidest things I have ever done,_ he thought.

"It's only the middle one that's actually a real head," Rial said, appearing behind him. He was brushing off his armour. The Sheikah didn't answer. "The other two are for decoration, for attracting females...damn ugly thing..." He reached out a hand to Sheik, who looked at it questioningly. "You saved my life just now," he explained. "You could easily have let me die, but you didn't. I'm still not sure whether you killed the king or not, but between Angen vouching for you and...this...well, I guess I trust you not to kill me in my sleep."

"Heart-warming," Sheik said.

"I hope you appreciate how hard this is for me," Rial said, still holding his hand out. "I...uh...thank you for saving my life."

Sheik considered being difficult for the hell of it, but let himself smile a little and shake the captain's hand anyway. "You're welcome. I can only hope that you will return the favour later."

"Maybe I will," Rial said, smiling sadly. "We're still quite far away from Æsir Fortress. It's a dangerous road, and I've lost two of my best fighters tonight. Poor Jonah and Darid..."

"What about Jeryd?" Sheik asked. "Do you trust him?"

"I haven't made up my mind about him yet, but Sid seems to trust him, so..." He noticed the look Sheik was giving him. "Give me a break," he said. "I'm sure you wouldn't be so quick to trust someone of your own kingdom if they were declared to be traitors."

Sheik had to concede to that. "True, but Angen vouches for him as well. Remember that."

"Trust me, I will. Speaking of Angen..."

"I'm right here," the innkeeper said as he appeared from behind the pile of rubble where the first troll victim had been dragged. He was covered in blood, but it didn't seem to be his own. He shook his head sadly. "Your man didn't make it," he said. "His chest was caved in. There was nothing I could do but ease his passing."

"I understand," Rial said, shaking his head. "Thank you for trying..." He growled quietly. "If it hadn't been for that bastard we would never have been here...damn him...Rehm will pay for this."

Sheik looked at the bodies of the fallen royal guards. They had all died because of this Rehm's manipulations...it was hard to prevent sympathetic anger welling up within him. If Rehm was behind the framing of Rial, than it wasn't too difficult to imagine him having a finger in the plot that had him from Link too. If Rehm was behind everything...

"Don't worry," he said. "Rehm will pay. I can guarantee that."


	3. Chapter 3

* * *

**Soul Remnants  
Chapter 21**

* * *

Link was uncomfortable. Currently, he was lying on his stomach in the underbrush with Elenwe's hand on the back of his head, nearly pressing his face into the cold, wet soil—though it could now be more accurately described as "mud". It had rained during the day, and he'd been able to keep himself relatively dry so far, but that had all been ruined when the Gerudo decided that keeping an eye on the road would be a good idea. The second they'd emerged from the tree line, a large and heavily armed patrol had thundered past on their mighty steeds. Elenwe must have acted on instinct, for there seemed to be little to no thought behind her actions as she swept Link's feet from underneath him and shoved him to the ground. There was not much grace behind the way she flopped down next to him half a second later either. He tried to protest against the rough treatment, but that had resulted in the aforementioned hand keeping his head down.

"Do you want them to see us?" she hissed. The thundering sound of the horses' hoofs started to die away, but she didn't let go of Link's head before it had disappeared altogether. She looked apologetically at the Hero as he wiped mud off his chin. "Sorry, pure instinct on my part."

"Been avoiding a lot of patrols, have you?" Link asked none-too-happily.

"My fair share and then some," she said in a way that seemed to suggest this was a regular occurrence. "You don't live my kind of life without making a few enemies in every kingdom."

"Wonderful," Link muttered. He looked down at his clothes as they stood up, surveying the state of his them. He'd gone down wearing green, and he was now wearing brown. Elenwe wasn't better off, but she didn't seem too bothered by it. Probably because the pants she was wearing weren't hers. "Let me know the next time you plan on doing that, though, so I'll know when to freeze to death."

"Now now, blondie, remember that I did save your life," the Gerudo said, waggling her finger. "You think I'd have wasted a perfectly good bottle of red potion on you if I wanted to drown you in the mud out here?"

"I wouldn't know," Link said. He tried to wipe down his clothes as best he could, but he already knew it was a lost cause. "I've never been able to figure out assassins in general. Even Sheik has his moments where he doesn't make any sense at all."

"Comes with the job, I think," Elenwe said as she stepped out onto the road. It was cobbled, and travelling along it would definitely be easier than stumbling through the woods. "We're too exposed out here if we're on foot," she said to herself. "But we would be making time…" She looked in the direction the patrol had gone, biting a fingernail. "Say, Hero," she said slowly, "how good are you at tripping up horses?"

Link looked at her slowly. "I think I know what you're talking about, and I don't think I like it…"

"It's going to take us at least a few days to get where we're going on foot, but if we had horses…well, we'd save a _lot_ of time."

"I don't know," said Link. "It's pretty risky…"

"Okay, let me put it like this," Elenwe said slowly, her eyes focusing on him with frightening intensity. "If we have to spend days trudging through mud and miscellaneous animal droppings when we _could_ be soaring along the highway on a pair of beautiful steeds with the wind in our hair and our hearts full of dreams, then I shall become _very difficult_ to live with."

Link gulped. "O-okay…"

She smiled brilliantly and patted his head. "Good boy! Now, all we have to do is wait for another patrol! We gotta hide!" She cackled maniacally and dove into the nearest bush, her legs flailing in the air for a few seconds before disappearing. Seconds later, her head popped out and looked at him expectantly. "Well?"

"Well what?" Link asked.

"You think you're going to be able cause chaos and mayhem among enemy troops if you're standing in the middle of the damn road? You're liable to get your head lopped off like that."

The Hero sighed and crawled inside the bush, inwardly cursing his luck the entire way. "How long are we going to wait here?" he asked as a stray leaf poked him in the eye.

"Until another patrol comes by."

"How long is that?"

"Could be minutes, could be hours."

"How…fun."

"We can play a game if you'd like."

"What kind of game?"

"'Stab the Hero for Talking Too Much'?"

"Shutting up now."

"Good."

"…hearts full of dreams, huh?"

"I can be poetic if I want to, damn it!"

* * *

"You know—"

"Shut up!"

"I can't help but notice that we've been sitting for two hours now, and not a single patrol has passed by." Link glanced over at Elenwe, whose current disposition could have been compared to a lemon. It had started to rain again after the first hour had passed, and it didn't seem to be stopping any time soon. "Seems kind of a waste, sitting here…"

If looks could kill, Link would have been disintegrated the second the Gerudo turned her head to look at him. "Do you have a better plan?" she asked icily.

"We could walk," Link offered.

"Not acceptable."

"We could have put so much distance behind us if we had just—"

"I am not walking one step further, okay?" Elenwe said. "These pants are so damn tight! They chafe really, really bad!"

"I don't see how—wait, what?" Link stared at her incredulously. "They chafe?"

"Yeah, they do," she replied gloweringly. "They're too tight. How skinny is Sheik anyway?"

Link thought about it for a second. "Way too skinny."

"Uh-huh..."

They sat in silence for a few minutes, listening to the pitter-patter sound of raindrops falling around them. Link usually enjoyed this sound. It calmed him down and made him feel peaceful. It was the sound of the world washing away the filth, grime and dust that built up, the sound of a new, blank page being turned over. The smell of nature became so much more pronounced and vivid. While Hylian of blood, Link would always be a Kokiri at heart, and his love for the forest and its inhabitants could never be diminished or weakened.

But right now, he was bloody miserable. He had escaped an (supposedly) insane countess' estate thanks to a Gerudo who very much reminded him of another certain redhead back in Hyrule, and she was also promising to help him find Sheik. But that wasn't happening. Because they weren't moving. They were just sitting in a bush, soaked to the bone and with chattering teeth. It was getting dark, and the fact that he was hungry wasn't helping matters at all.

Just as he was about to say something to break the awkward silence, the sound of hoofs walking over cobbles and the creaking of a wagon could be heard just over the rain. The two in the bush nodded at each other and kept their hands on their weapons as they slowly crawled out of the bush in order to get a better look at the travellers.

"A damn hay cart," Elenwe whispered as she peeked out from behind a tree. "Horses look strong, though. Fast. Just gotta ditch the wagon."

"People?" Link asked, already getting a bad feeling about it.

"One man. Two kids," Elenwe answered. "He doesn't look like much of a fighter, and the little ones...well, I doubt they're carrying knives under those dresses."

Link pushed Elenwe aside and looked out on the road himself. A rickety-looking wagon loaded high with hay of some kind was slowly making its way towards them. A tarpaulin had been put up over the driver's seat to protect the driver and passengers from the rain. All three of them were shivering and huddled together, trying to keep warm. The Gerudo was right about the animals pulling the wagon. They appeared well-rested and had no trouble whatsoever pulling the heavy load up the slight incline. The driver didn't appear to be armed in any way.

"Not even a damn bow. Right, those are ours," Elenwe said, reaching for her collapsible crossbow. Link's hand on hers stopped her.

"Wait, we can't just _steal_ their horses," he said.

"Why ever the hell not?" Elenwe asked.

"We...well...it...we just can't, okay?"

"You had no problems with the plan when it concerned armed patrols," Elenwe growled.

"Exactly, because they can defend themselves!" Link hissed. "These people can't!"

"Geez, you act like I'm going to slaughter them like cattle," the Gerudo said, rolling her eyes. "I'm just going to scare 'em a little so they'll give up without a fight. Now let me get my crossbow—"

"No crossbows!" Link said harshly. "We're not taking their horses!"

"Do you _want_ to find your boyfriend, Hero?" Elenwe asked. "Because right now, every declaration of love you've ever made appears to have been pure bullshit! What happened to 'I'll do whatever it takes', huh?"

"I don't think Sheik would appreciate me robbing defenceless farmers to get to him," Link said uncertainly. "I mean..."

"Think, schmink," Elenwe said. "It's for a good cause. Besides, we'll tie the horses up somewhere they can get them later. It's a victimless crime. In fact, it's not a crime at all—we'll just _borrow_ them."

"I don't know..."

"You can agree or disagree all you want, Hero, but I'm going out there and taking the damn horses!" She gave him no time to react as she stepped out from behind the tree and walked into the middle of the road. She stood absolutely still, crossbow still collapsed in one hand and a bolt in the other. Link cursed inwardly and followed her, standing next to her.

"Fine, but no weapons!" he hissed. "Deal?"

"What if he attacks?"

"He won't."

"Do you know him personally? No? Then you can't know."

"Elenwe!"

"Okay, fine! Deal! Geez..."

The driver had noticed them now and was slowing down the wagon. The two girls drew even closer to him as they approached. He halted the horses when they were about ten feet from Link and Elenwe. He then cleared his throat and said, "Is this a robbery?" He sounded resigned, like this was a regular occurrence. "'Cause I ain't got any gold! Not anymore, anyway, thanks to your friends further down the valley!"

Elenwe looked at Link, who nodded in resignation. She smiled. "It is, in fact, a robbery, my good man!" she replied. "But we're not interested in gold or other valuables!"

The driver looked surprised. "Then what're you interested in?"

"Take one lucky guess!" the Gerudo said, still grinning.

The man appeared to think for a few seconds, glanced at the two girls clinging silently to him, and appeared to suffer a mild heart attack on the spot. "N-no, please! Anything but m-my g-girls! I'll do anything, I-I swear!"

"The hell?" Elenwe said, looking at Link. "Is he really that stupid?"

"Don't look at me, this is _your_ robbery," Link said, feeling bad for the driver.

"Look, you daft old bugger," Elenwe said, approaching the horses. "I don't give a shit about your kids! I only want your damn horses, get it?" To make her point, she began to undo their harnesses. "I'm not looking to hurt anyone or anything. We need the horses and we're going to take 'em. Don't try anything funny and we won't hurt you."

"But...but how I will get this hay to the market?" the man asked, still clutching the girls tightly.

"I dunno," Elenwe said, shrugging. "How about carrying it yourself?"

When both horses were free of the harnesses, she motioned Link over. "Looks like it'll be bareback riding for us," she said happily, ignoring the dismal-looking family behind her. "You can take the boy one. He looks frisky."

Link looked guiltily at the three on the wagon as he prepared to swing himself onto the back of the chestnut-coloured equine. Something cracked within him, and he walked over to the wagon, fumbling through his pack. The man and the two girls tensed up as he approached, their eyes drawn to the hilt of his sword sticking up from his behind his back. "I'm really sorry about this," the Hero said as his fingers found what he was looking for. He withdrew his purse and tipped out several rupees into his hand. Five red ones. The last of the rupees he and Sheik had been given by Zelda before they left Hyrule.

"I'm not sure how much the horses are worth," he said as he held them out to the man, who took them nervously. "But this should cover our use of them. We'll tie them up somewhere along the road so you can find them later. I'm terribly sorry about this."

As they trotted away from the wagon, Elenwe glanced back at the hapless victims of their robbery. "You're such a do-gooder, you know that?" she asked.

"Comes with the job, I think," Link said, keeping his eyes on the road ahead. "Can't be a hero without doing good things."

"Despite the fact that you just robbed some poor peasant and his daughters of their only means of transportation," the Gerudo added.

"I gave him money," Link said, not sounding too convinced.

"You gave him rupees, which aren't accepted as currency here," Elenwe said.

"They're still precious stones," Link said. "He can trade for them. Besides, we're just borrowing the horses, as you say."

"I was only saying that to get you to cooperate, I mean—"

"We are only _borrowing_ them," Link repeated forcefully, glaring at Elenwe, who looked annoyed.

"Fine," she spat, "but I'm holding _you_ accountable for the chafing when we have to walk again."

"Gladly," Link spat back.

They increased the speed of their steeds to a full gallop and thundered down the road. Link blinked the rain out of his eyes, barely able to see where he was going. Oh, he thought sarcastically, this is going to be fun...

* * *

"These rebels need to suffer the long arm of the law!" harrumphed the fat nobleman, his mouth invisible and hidden in his massive beard and moustache combo, his considerable gut jiggling with every syllable, wine spilling from his glass with every hand gesture. "Suffer not the criminal scum, I always say! Off with their heads!"

The statement was met with guffaws of approval from the other nobles gathered around him, most of them already swaying slightly where they stood because it was about midday and heavens forbid that a nobleman wasn't at least tipsy by the time came to admire the floral clock (which had withered and died long ago, but the point still stands). Victor counted himself lucky that none of them had passed out yet.

He smiled at the ranting nobleman while quietly sipping at his own wine. He had no idea why he was even at this party. Sure, it was held in his castle, and he was throwing it, but why did he absolutely _have_ to _attend_? It wasn't as if he had any specific purpose other than greeting and smiling at the nobles who did their utmost to crawl up his derrière, as it were, and grease their own palms. He was used to it from his time as prince, but it seemed even less consequential now that he was king. He just had no interest in entertaining these people. It had been Rehm's idea, of course, in order to strengthen the bond between ruler and subjects ( _noble_ subjects) and Victor was going to humour him for now, if only to make the man believe he wasn't aware of the underlying conspiracy or whatever it was.

So he'd descended the stairs, shook hands and kissed the cheeks of pompousness and bantered meaninglessly about politics that really didn't interest anyone at all. He'd spent time with hopeful suitors, graciously turning them down, slightly terrified of the old women who were winking at him from behind pillars and the buffet table. And then he'd somehow gotten involved with this group of perfectly rotund gentlemen who just happened to be some of the more powerful nobles in Lumina, and he'd seen a possibility of gaining some allies. He had no doubts about them swearing allegiance to him immediately. He was the king, of course. But he also knew that these nobles were men of opportunity who would switch alliances the second it became apparent that their side could possibly lose, which was why Victor needed to form more than just superficial friendships. Which meant that he had to get to know the nobles. Become their friend. Happy day.

He tried to be diplomatic. "I'm sure that if someone would only hear out the rebels we could work out our differences," he said carefully, feeling the dread of attention as every eye in the circle focused on him. "I mean, their cause is understandable…"

"Your Majesty, they are nothing but flea-ridden ingrates who have never done an honest day's work in their entire lives and scoff at the idea of peace when there is murdering and plundering to be had," said the first nobleman. "There is no negotiation to be had with those people, and their cause is but an empty bag of hot air."

"I wouldn't know," Victor said nervously, already feeling his arguments deflating. "I mean, Lumina is in a pretty dire economical condition at the moment. Unemployment is steadily rising, trade has decreased greatly, profits from mining have dwindled to a mere trickle and we are deep in debt to our foreign allies…unrest is only to be expected, and I understand them, personally."

"Unrest, yes," the nobleman said, "but outright rebellion? Unacceptable. You are young, Your Majesty, and you are still idealistic, but take it from someone who has seen more than twice as many winters as you—there can be no peace between us and these people. They must be punished, and punished severely."

Several of the other nobles were holding their breaths, horrified at the disrespect in the first noble's words. Victor stared at him for a few seconds, wondering if he should reprimand him or not. He didn't want to make an enemy of this man...but he saw no potential friendship with him either. It was quite clear that the other nobles in the circle agreed with this one, so there were no allies to be had here. He smiled politely and nodded.

"Perhaps that is true," he said diplomatically, "but I would rather not declare open war on my own people. Enjoy the party, gentlemen."

He beat a hasty retreat towards the gardens, where the trees' leaves were taking on a distinct brown-red colour now that it was autumn. He passed by several groups of talking guests, aiming for a bench under a large oak close to a wall. He sat on it and drew a pair of deep breaths. He'd spent hours preparing himself for this, but the second he'd engaged himself in the conversation he'd felt like the rug had been pulled out from under his feet.

"Guess I'm just not that much of a debater," he muttered to himself and pulled at his sash. He hated it. It looked stupid. And the amount of medals on his uniform didn't help either. He was sure that the combined weight of them was equal to that of a full suit of armour. How much money had been pissed away on them, he wondered. He looked at the people gathered in the garden, all of them drinking and talking about irrelevant and useless subjects. If questioned on it, they'd reveal themselves to be absolutely ignorant on the state of the kingdom apart from the fact that there was a minor uprising down south, as opposed to the fully-fledged rebellion that was threatening to spill all across the kingdom. What a fool he'd been to even consider looking for allies here. Depressed, he stared down at his boots. "What was I thinking?" he asked himself loudly.

A small, almost inaudible cough in front of him drew his attention, and he lifted his eyes from his boots to the face of the young man standing in front of him. He was dressed like a minor noble, and he looked familiar. He had a black eye, and there was something to the smile that…

_Ah..._

"Leonard?" Victor asked, finally recognising the boy whose oppressive mother had tried to, for the lack of a better word, set them up. But something was different. He looked…older, despite the fact that only a few months had passed since they'd met. "Is that you?"

"I didn't think you would not recognise me, Your Majesty," he said, smiling and bowing.

"I didn't, at first," Victor said, standing up. "The black eye threw me off a little bit. What happened to you?"

"Disagreement with my mother," Leonard replied. "Or, rather, my mother's lover."

There was distinct lack of a capital M in the word "mother" this time around, and the youth seemed far less tense than he had back then.

At Victor's confused stare, Leonard smiled a bit wider. "I suppose I should explain," he said. "What you said to me the night we met, about our parents not controlling us…well, I took it perhaps a bit literally."

This was a promising story, Victor decided. "And?" he asked.

"Well…remember the…the one I talked about? The one I was…interested in?"

"Yes, I do."

"I…sort of…entered into a relationship with him a few weeks ago."

Victor blinked. "Really?"

Leonard nodded. "Yes, and mother found out about us last week."

"I suppose she wasn't very thrilled about it."

"Not at all," the youth said in a chipper tone. "In fact, she sent her new lover to set me straight, as it were…he even hit me, which is the cause of this." He pointed at the bruise under his eye. "But I stood up to them both, and I have never felt better in my entire life, and I have you to thank for that!"

"I'm glad I could help," Victor said slowly, hardly believing that this was the same peevish young man who'd barely been able to greet him at the soiree. "But what happened then? I mean, your mother and her…er…lover could not have been happy about that…"

"Well, she doesn't approve of the relationship in any way…but she approved of her lover hitting me even less, so she ended it with him immediately, and she hasn't mentioned it afterwards, so I suppose I am somewhat in the clear as long as I do not flaunt it in her face."

"So, everything worked out to a certain degree, then?" Victor asked. "That's great…I think. So, er, do I get to meet the lucky, uh…"

"Oh, no, he did not come with me," Leonard said, shaking his head. "He doesn't like gatherings like these very much…and he doesn't really fit in among the guests here."

"Don't tell anyone, but neither do I," said Victor, only half-joking. "Anyway, you look great, Leonard. You seem very happy."

"I _am_ happy," Leonard said. "And I owe you a huge debt for that. If there is anything I can do for you, Your Majesty, just say the word."

 _Big words from a small noble,_ Victor thought, looking at the teenager. _But he is probably the only sincere person I've spoken to all day._ He was about to say thanks but no thanks when an idea suddenly formed in his head. "Tell me," he said, "does your mother have much influence among the nobles?"

Leonard raised an eyebrow. "I'd say so. Among the minor ones, certainly, I'm not so sure about the others…why?"

"I may require her assistance with something. And yours probably, too." Victor said, noticing a guard quickly approaching them, a sealed letter in his hand. "We will discuss it later. Meet me here in an hour or so."

"Certainly, Your Majesty."

"Thank you." Victor met the guard halfway across the gardens. He was out of breath, handing him the letter.

"Urgent message from…the south, Your…Majesty," he wheezed.

"Thank you," Victor said, slightly perturbed. "Please, have a seat and something to drink before you keel over, man." The guard nodded, gave a weak attempt at a salute and went back into the castle. Victor recognised the royal seal that he had given the observer he had sent down to Urne to keep an eye on things and opened the envelope, quickly scanning the letter inside. His eyes widened, and he crumpled the paper as he clenched his fist. He needed to talk to Rehm. _Now_!

* * *

The guards sheepishly stepped aside as Victor stormed through the door to the council chambers, where Rehm was currently holding a meeting with the other councillors. The door slammed loudly against the wall, forcing everyone to look at the fuming king standing in the doorway, his eyes searching the room for the geriatric bastard.

"What," growled Victor, "is the meaning of this?" he demanded, holding the crumpled letter up high for everyone to see.

Rehm looked confused, face frozen mid-sentence. His brain shifted gears quickly enough for him to close his mouth before Victor continued.

"I just received this letter from my observer in Urne," he said, marching up to Rehm and throwing the letter on the table in front of him. "Explain yourself!"

The council leader had the decency to look peevish as he slowly picked up the letter, straightened it and read it. A look of shock came across his face. "This…this is…" he said.

"Three villages!" Victor shouted. "Three villages burned to the ground! Hundreds dead! Civilians! At the hands of Agon's troops! _My_ troops!" He ripped the letter from Rehm's hand and pointed to the line that featured the council leader's name. "On _your_ authorisation! How dare you to assume that you speak for me? How dare you order an attack in my place? How _dare_ you?" He could barely hear himself for the throbbing sound in his ears. His face was red with fury, and his throat hurt with the strain of shouting.

Most of the council members were busy trying to look at everything but the two (most failed), except Ise, who was openly enjoying the sight of Rehm getting chewed out with a brilliant grin on her face. Had Victor looked at her, she would probably have given him a thumbs-up.

"Your Majesty, please ca—"Rehm tried.

"Do you have _any_ idea what'll happen now?" Victor roared. "Any hope we had of negotiating with the rebels—gone! What could you _possibly_ have to say for yourself?"

"Your Majesty," Rehm said, taking a deep breath. "Please, I did not authorise this."

Victor paused, panting. "What?"

"I did not authorise this," Rehm repeated. "Believe me, Your Majesty, I am just as shocked and appalled by this as you are." He glanced at the council members. "I dispatched the orders for General Agon that you dictated to me—to continue resisting the attacks by the rebels, but not to push any further into their territory until further notice." He took the letter out of Victor's unresisting hand, reading it through once more. "Your observer notes that Agon declared he had my authorisation to commence the attack—"

"Massacre," Victor corrected him.

"—to commence the massacre," Rehm said, "yet I did no such thing. I want peace as much as you do, Your Majesty, and I know better than most that swords do little to promote an atmosphere conducive to that purpose. I was just about to call for a vote on forming a committee to meet with the rebel leaders, which everyone around this table can confirm." The other councillors nodded, even Ise. He sighed, throwing the letter onto the table. "It appears the good general has gone rogue, which, in hindsight, should not have surprised us so much. He always was an utter bastard." Again the councillors agreed, somewhat begrudgingly.

"But rest assured, Your Majesty," Rehm continued, voice growing icy, "that I will not rest until the general has been arrested and brought before you to be judged for this…this treason! He will not find shelter anywhere in the kingdom. He will find no friends. I will _personally_ hunt him down if I have to, Your Majesty, and I will even carry out the sentence myself for having my name besmirched by this travesty! _That_ I promise you!"

The councillors applauded, obviously impressed with the passion in the old man's voice. Victor could only stare at the members in shock.

"I…I…yes, you do that," the king managed to say. "You…you had better catch him and bring him before me within a month, or I will go out and get him myself."

"Your bravery is much admired, Your Majesty, but please leave this criminal to me," Rehm said smoothly. "He will be punished, of that I assure you." He wiped his brow with the sleeve of his robe, looking flustered. "Now, we were in the middle of a meeting, Your Majesty. Would you like to sit in? It has been so long since we were graced with your lustrous presence."

"Er, no, thank you, Councillor," Victor said. "I have…a party to attend to."

"Very well, Your Majesty."

"Good day, councillors."

The members stood up to acknowledge him leaving, the guards outside still looking sheepish as they closed the door behind him. Victor managed to keep his face straight until he rounded a corner, at which point he sagged against the wall, heart beating wildly.

 _Damn,_ he thought. _I had him, I_ had _him!_ He sank unhappily to the floor, glaring at nothing in particular. _If only the others hadn't been there. If only he hadn't been such a damn smooth talker!_ He shook his head. _But no matter,_ he thought and stood up again. _I'll just get him some other time. He's bound to slip up again sooner or later._ _I chose the wrong moment this time, but next time…I won't let any more of my people die._

He found Leonard in the garden and took him to a secluded corner. The boy looked curious.

"I need your help," Victor said. "And we have to keep it discreet."

"Of course! Anything, Your Majesty," Leonard said, excited.

"Right, you must keep what I'm about to tell you an absolute secret…"

* * *

**Soul Remnants  
Chapter 22**

* * *

What should have been a peaceful evening filled with the voices and laughter of happy soldiers enjoying themselves by their campfires, regaling each other with tales from the battlefield, was quickly ruined by the deafening roar of eight huge steam engines struggling to gently ease the massive hull of _The Chimera_ down to a height where ropes could be tossed over the sides and tied to several trees around the landing site. _The Chimera_ was only built for docking at specially designed berths, one of which had been constructed at the castle in Lumina City, and trying to improvise one in the middle of a forest was proving to be quite difficult. The engineers had been hard at work constructing a sort of landing tower for the important passenger on board. They'd received word of his arrival only two hours before, and that left far too little time to build anything extravagant. As such, they were only able to construct a tall, unsteady wooden platform by the time the ship had arrived. The pilots of the airship were currently trying to find the optimal height from where they could drop their gangplank.

The steam billowed from the engines, shrouding the forest in a thick fog that, while it nevertheless quickly dissipated, made it difficult for the soldiers to navigate among the trees. Many a yelp, muttered curse and pained yell were heard from men and women who crashed into thick trunks around the camp.

Suddenly, the cacophony of the engines were cut short, and the constant hissing and spitting of steam ended as the pilots found their equilibrium—the perfect amount of hydrogen being pumped into the gas bag inside the rigid structure, popularly referred to as "the balloon" by the crew, to keep it from either rising or sinking. The ship fell completely silent. The only sounds that could be heard now were the voices of the soldiers on the ground and the ship's crew as they went about their duties. The final rope was tied around a tree to keep the ship from shifting too much, and the gangplank was dropped.

General Agon stood on top of the platform, barely avoiding being hit by the plank, and stared at the rails, waiting for the mad old bastard to show himself. He shifted uncomfortably. He hadn't had a chance to take off his armour yet, and the damn platform was really unstable. One wrong move and he would tumble down at least thirty feet before hitting the ground. The airship hadn't been able to descend to tree height, which was why the platform was so ungodly high.

"Ah, General Agon, it is a pleasure to see you again," Rehm said as he suddenly appeared on the gangplank, clearing it surprisingly fast for such an old man. Within seconds, he was standing face to face with the general, who immediately began to feel uncomfortable, as he usually did whenever he was alone with the councillor. "I must say, your camp is difficult to find from such a height."

"Yes, it must have appeared as an insignificant speck to you up there," Agon replied, knowing full well that Rehm was lying. _The Chimera_ had come in low and stealthy. They were fighting a war, after all, and they could not risk the enemy seeing the king's newest toy. With the fires burning brightly, Agon had a feeling his camp was as unmistakable as that idiotic pile of hair on top of Rehm's own head. "Please, councillor, come with me," he said and gestured towards the steep set of stairs that would lead them to the ground. "We can speak more privately in—"

"Here is just fine, general," Rehm said. "My visit will be short and sweet. The hydrogen supply is running low and the captain insists that we refuel in Urne."

Agon, confused but refusing to reveal himself to be so, nodded. "Very well, then. I must admit, councillor, that I am surprised by both your visit and the fact that His Majesty lent you his airship."

"His Majesty practically forced it upon me," Rehm said, his voice sounding bitter. "He saw my task as something of a priority and insisted that I take it."

"And what task would this be?" Agon asked.

"Your arrest, of course," Rehm said, handing him an envelope with the royal seal upon it. "You got careless, general."

Agon took the envelope, opened it, read the letter inside and grunted. "Hmph, I didn't expect word of the burnings to reach the capital that quickly."

"A job well done, I'd like to add," Rehm said.

"Who notified him of this?" Agon said, ignoring the compliment. He'd taken no pleasure in burning those villages. It had been Rehm's idea, anyway. It was supposed to spread the murmurs of discontent even further across the kingdom, but it was easy for the councillor to say things like that with such ease—after all, he didn't have to see the flames, or hear the screams.

"His observer, apparently," Rehm replied, biting a nail with apparent disinterest.

"Impossible," Agon said. "I made sure to have him killed during a skirmish with the rebels over a month ago." He remembered seeing the man's headless corpse rolling down a hill and into a river, dead by the hands of a fellow soldier. He never saw it coming, and neither head nor body were recovered.

"Obviously, he has appointed someone else," Rehm said, rolling his eyes. "And based on what happened to the previous one, the new observer has probably disguised himself as a common soldier. Very clever, makes him difficult to find."

"Hmph," Agon grunted again, making a mental note to have his men search for anyone who didn't belong in his brigade. "So, what are you going to do?" he asked.

"About?" the old man asked.

"About me," Agon said, feeling irritation creeping up on him, overpowering the discomfort from before. "Surely you didn't come all the way down here just to warn me that I'm a wanted criminal?"

"In fact, I did." Rehm grinned. "No one else knows about this. You are a difficult man to find, Agon. It will take me weeks, if not months to find you down here. You are constantly on the move, and once you deal with the royal spy in your ranks, I might as well be trying to find a needle in a haystack."

Agon was surprised. "I can only assume that this...magnanimous warning comes with a price? To be paid to the Enlightened One, perhaps?"

"Oh, indeed it does, general," Rehm said. "I will keep it short—you will dispose of the spy and continue your activities down here. Money will be funnelled to the mercenaries as well. They are doing good work."

Agon briefly considered asking where the money was coming from, but decided not to. As long as _he_ continued to get paid, he was happy to stay ignorant on that particular matter.

"However, there's another matter that you must see to immediately," Rehm continued. "You will take part of your army and immediately head north for Æsir Fortress."

Agon's eyes widened. "You don't mean—"

"I do, general," Rehm interrupted him. "The old bat has been given far too much leeway, and the fact that she is still alive just proves how much of a sap Robar was. She is a traitor to Lumina and must be dealt with immediately."

"Why now?" Agon asked.

"I have reason to believe that our missing...er...guests...are heading there right now. An inn belonging to a known conspirator was found burned to the ground along with the bodies of several of the king's men. The conspirator must be taking them to her." He paused. "It is a long shot, I agree, but look at it as an opportunity to remove yet another thorn from our paws. With her gone, you will be the only veteran general left in the whole kingdom, what with Mirn being in Hyrule and all."

"It is a tall order, councillor, with all due respect," Agon said, shaking his head, but not disliking the idea of being the senior commanding officer of every military unit in the land. "If she is informed of what is going on, she will only fortify her position. Removing her will be...difficult."

"Then I suggest you get going before she _is_ informed, general," Rehm said, turning around. "No mistakes this time, if you please."

"My men will be forced to march day and night on empty stomachs and with heavy loads," Agon blurted out. "We can't possibly take her on by ourselves in that condition. We will need support." He wondered why he even bothered. He knew Rehm rarely took pity on anyone—the kindly old man act was just that, an act. That is why he was surprised when the geriatric bastard quickly turned around again, smiling.

"Oh, believe me, general; you will have all the support you need. I expect Æsir Fortress to be in our hands by the end of the month, understand?" With that said, he turned around ascended the gangplank, still surprisingly fast for someone his age.

Agon growled to himself. The old man was losing his grip on the situation. Everything was spiralling out of control!

"You promised this would over quick, Rehm!" he exclaimed. "You promised it would be peaceful! I'm tired of killing my own countrymen!"

Rehm only kept his serene smile on his face. "Great sacrifices must be made for the sake of progress, my friend. That is a lesson you should take to heart. Please excuse me, general; I need to deal with a certain countess and her embarrassing loss of a prime hostage. I suggest you get off that rickety death trap of yours before we take off—or else you're liable to fall and break your neck. Good night, general."

Agon hurried off the platform as _The Chimera_ 's engines were fired up. Once again steam was spewed in all directions and several men untying the ropes beneath the ship were knocked off their feet by the blasts of air. More hydrogen was pumped into the gas bag, and _The Chimera_ slowly rose, rising faster and faster. Agon looked on as the ship headed back in the direction it had come from, wishing he had never gotten involved with councillor or the countess. It was simply turning into a big mess, and he was starting to doubt whether or not he'd be alive by the end of it. He'd wanted a change in the way the kingdom was run, a new king who knew what would be best for Lumina. That and a sizeable increase in his salary, of course. And perhaps some land, maybe even a title. He had been promised all that.

He shook his head and headed for his tent, where several senior officers were waiting. They seemed surprised by the councillor's absence, but immediately snapped to attention. Agon looked at them carefully, weighing their strengths and weaknesses up against each other. He then mentally divided the groups in two.

"You, you, you and you," he said, pointing at one of the colonels and three lieutenants. "Prepare your men for a fast march. We're heading north. Pack only what you need of food and weapons. The rest of you keep up what you're doing here. If you're short on men, borrow them from the mercenaries."

None of them asked any questions—they simply did as they were ordered to do, just like Agon liked it. He looked at a highly detailed map of Lumina on the table, quickly finding the fortress he was to take. If they got there before the Sheikah and the others, the bitch wouldn't know what hit her.

* * *

The sun was rising in the east—a welcome addition to the otherwise freezing cold morning—as Sheik and the others slowly rode up the rocky hill. It was surrounded on both sides by steep cliffs, creating a natural corridor. A mighty river had once flowed here, according to Angen, but it and the lake that fed it had run dry after the Enlightened One waged his war on the Goddesses.

"Not far, now," Angen told the greatly diminished party. "Just over this hilltop."

The troll attack had cut the group short, and only he, Rial, Sheik, Jeryd and Sid were left. The other royal guards had not been given a proper funeral, the reason being that the other trolls (they had been in the middle of a nest) would simply dig the bodies up and eat them, no matter how far away they were buried. Once a troll has picked up the scent of blood, it rarely gives up the chase until it has something it can sink its teeth into. It weighed heavily on Rial's mind, and he had made a promise to have statues of the men built once this idiotic coup was over. Perhaps he would have them built next to Rehm's, Agon's and Marlotta's drawn and hung corpses. It would certainly make a point.

"Can't wait," Jeryd muttered. "My arse is sore and I can't feel my legs. I hate horses..."

Sheik couldn't help but grin. Jeryd the Assistant was calm, composed and dignified, but Jeryd the Traveller was short-tempered, easily-annoyed and whiny. It was such a stark contrast that it was practically comedic. The human shot him a dark look after spotting the grin, which only made it wider. Sheik gave him a half-sincere apologetic shrug. _It's not my fault you act like a child who has just been told that it's his bedtime,_ he thought.

"Cap'n," Sid said loudly, "what's the plan after this?"

"I don't know, Sid," Rial answered, sighing. "I'm not even sure if we're going to be welcome here. There's a lot of bad blood between us, after all. And even then, I wouldn't know where to start."

"Pessimism isn't going to help," Angen butted in. "And talking about this is only going to worsen our moods. Let's wait with celebrations or lamentations until _after_ we've talked to them, all right?"

"As you wish," Rial said. "You'll probably receive a hero's welcome anyway."

"What, for clubbing Agon in the face?"

"Something like that."

They fell silent after the exchange. Sheik couldn't help but notice that, as they came closer and closer to their destination, a wall of bitterness seemed to come up between Angen and Rial, and he wondered why. They had seemed like the best of friends that night when Rial had showed up at the inn. He could only conclude that they were both connected to someone in Æsir Fortress, perhaps romantically, and that could be very dangerous. He kept his mouth shut, though, knowing he was in way over his head these days. Not that it mattered, really, since he was going to leave this place behind the second they arrived at the fortress and start his search for Link.

_Link..._

He wondered what the Hero would say when he saw his mutilated hand. He looked at said hand, curling the remaining fingers, noting the lack of two digits. The Hero would probably be furious at himself for not being there to help Sheik, and Sheik would vainly try to make him stop blaming himself in an ever repeating circle. It was a comfort and an annoyance at the same time.

"Ah, here we are," Angen said as they reached the top of the hill.

"That's Æsir Fortress?" Sheik asked in disbelief.

"Regrettably, yes," Rial said, coming up beside him.

"The least defensible spot in the kingdom...no wonder why they were stationed here," Angen continued. "Not like they're ever going to be called out for anything, though."

The hilltop terminated in a steep decline into a huge, dried-out lakebed. The clay at the bottom was filled with cracks, and huge stones littered the area. The lakebed itself was surrounded by steep cliffs, impossible to climb even for the most experienced of mountaineers. And nestled against one of the walls was Æsir Fortress, though Sheik would not categorise the loose collection of wooden buildings surrounded by palisades as a fortress. Tents and even smaller buildings littered the ground around the walls, and dust was kicked up by hundreds of soldiers marching or training in the area.

"All you'd need to finish these guys off is a few hundred soldiers where we are standing right now to block the only way out and a another few hundred archers on the cliff walls, firing downward," Rial said. "What do you think the chances are of this being a contingency plan?"

"I'd rather not say," Angen replied.

They made to ride down into the lakebed—

"Halt! Friend or foe?" someone shouted as several archers and spearmen appeared from behind a pair of rocks, their arrows trained on the group.

Sheik could immediately tell that these men were not to be underestimated. Their fortress was a joke, but it was easy to tell that they were veterans. Their eyes were cold and hard, their grips on their weapons strong and steady, their stances perfect from years of fighting. They were all in their forties, it seemed, and some of them had scars on their faces. He felt his hand instinctively going for a dagger, but stopped himself. One wrong move and he'd have an arrow in his chest before he could even utter a syllable.

"What do you think?" Angen said drily. "Do we look like someone who'd attack you? I know this place is useless as a defensive spot, but come on..."

The men relaxed a little, seeing the logic in what the innkeeper had said, but continued eyeing them with suspicion. "Then state your name and business, quickly!" the apparent leader said. He was wearing a brown leather tunic without any emblems whatsoever on it, and a grey cloak hung off his shoulders.

"My name is Rial Vortan, captain of the Royal Guard," Rial said. "We have come to seek refuge from the enemies of the kingdom! I wish to speak with your commanding officer immediately."

The men had all shared a glance at the sound of Rial's name, but their leader remained unimpressed. "Last I heard, the captain of the royal guard was announced to be a traitor after an attempted assassination of the king," he said. "If anyone is an enemy of the kingdom, it is he."

"I am innocent," Rial said with all the conviction he could muster. "The king has been fooled by his most trusted advisor. We all were."

"Even if what you say is true, _captain_ ," the man said, "I find it strange that you would seek refuge among those who have been labelled traitors and murderers by everyone else."

"Desperate times call for desperate measures."

"And what do you intend to do here?"

Rial ran out of patience. "You know damn well why I am here, you fool, so stop playing games and take me to your general immediately!"

The soldier appeared unfazed by Rial's outburst, but he nodded. "Very well, but you will hand over your weapons to my men. You will also dismount and follow me on foot. One move out of step, and you are all dead men." His eyes landed on Sheik and widened slightly, but said nothing.

The party agreed and let the soldiers take their weapons and got off their horses. Jeryd nearly fell over as his legs refused to cooperate, but Sheik helped to steady him. "Thanks," the embarrassed human muttered under his breath.

They were led across the lakebed by a few of the spearmen and their leader. As they passed by the other soldiers, they stopped to look at the new arrivals in complete silence. The sounds of sparring and shouting died down all over the lakebed. It was almost eerie. Sheik noticed that there was not a man or woman under the age of thirty among them, and they all shared the same cold eyes. These soldiers had definitely fought in wars before.

"You're lucky you came at dawn," the leader said suddenly. "Any earlier, and we'd have shot you on sight."

"Why?" Angen asked.

"We don't take any chances."

"That's not much a reason," Jeryd said.

"But a reason all the same, boy."

They reached the wooden wall, and the leader gave some sort of signal to the men on the ramparts, and they shouted for the gates to be unbarred. Up close, Sheik saw that despite its flimsy appearance, the wall was quite strong. Not enough to keep an army out forever, of course, especially not if they had catapults, but strong enough to withstand an infantry attack. The gate swung open, and they entered the "keep", as it were.

The buildings here seemed a bit larger than they had from the entrance to the lakebed, but they were still not very impressive, mostly single-story affairs. Essential and otherwise important personnel were kept here, it seemed. Engineers, butchers, cooks, blacksmiths and officers seemed to occupy most of the buildings. The largest one was two stories high and even had a chimney, and a pair of soldiers dressed in completely black armour stood guard outside the door. The banners covering the wall were black as midnight too. Rial seemed to shake his head at them, for some reason.

The soldiers guarding the door crossed their halberds as they approached. "State your business," one of them said.

"Captain Vortan of the royal guard wishes to see the general," the soldier leading them said. "Says it's urgent, too."

The armoured soldier nodded and went inside and came back a few minutes later. "The general wishes to see Captain Vortan, the medic and the Sheikah."

Sheik blinked. He had no doubts that he'd been recognised by the whole army because of his appearance, but he hadn't expected the general to wish to see him. Truth be told, he had expected to be arrested on sight for his supposed murder of the old king.

The medic, Angen, didn't seem perturbed however.

Jeryd gave Sheik another concerned look, which he waved away. "If they wanted me dead, I would have been killed by the lakebed entrance," he reasoned.

"Probably very true," Sid agreed.

The inside of the building was dark. The window shutters were closed, and a few oil lanterns had been lit here and there. The armoured soldier waved them through the entrance hall and through an antechamber. He stopped in front of a pair of doors and lifted his visor, glaring at them.

"You will be respectful," he said. "One out of place sound, and you will answer to my little friend." He caressed his halberd as he spoke. He then knocked on the door, and a female voice answered.

"Enter."

The soldier opened the doors and stood aside, letting Rial, Angen and Sheik enter. He then closed the doors behind them.

The room was big. A large table stood slightly to one side, covered in maps and books. The only light came from a roaring fire in the fireplace. A large armchair was placed in front of it, and someone was sitting in it. Silence reigned for a few minutes. Sheik glanced over at Rial and saw that the man was extremely tense, looking ready for a fight.

"Loyalty," said the female voice suddenly, "is a fickle thing." The voice came from the armchair. "Promises sealed with handshakes, undying fealty offered by taking a knee and holding a fist to one's heart, everlasting friendship forged in the heat of battle. It is beautiful, but fickle. Everyone has their breaking point, the moment where all sense of camaraderie is forgotten and only the ugly selfishness remains. I like to think of myself as an expert in that area, having betrayed and been betrayed so many times."

"Don't start with the poetic claptrap," Rial said, voice trembling slightly. "You brought all this on yourself. No one forced you to pick the wrong side."

"I did not choose sides, captain," the voice replied. "The choice was taken from me when I realised what was happening. Had you been there, you would have understood. But then again," the voice's owner rose from the chair and slowly turned around, "I think you finally know what it is like to be me. It's a horrible feeling, is it not, nephew?"

 _There's number one,_ Sheik thought, slightly surprised by this revelation.

"Don't call me that," Rial growled. "We're not family!"

"Just because you swore me off a decade ago does not mean that we do not share blood, Rial." She sighed. "But I can see that your opinion will not change easily. We will talk more about this later." She looked at Angen. "Now there's a sight for sore eyes." Her voice sounded happy. "How are you doing, Angen?"

"Been better," Angen grunted. "Lost my inn."

"I heard," the woman said. "Such a pity, I heard it was a beautiful building."

"You knew?"

"I have eyes and ears all over the kingdom, Angen. Don't tell me you were surprised."

"You always had a talent for finding out things, whether you were meant to or not."

"That's how I got you into my tent, wasn't it?" She sounded smug.

 _And there's number two,_ Sheik thought. _The dots are connected._

Angen didn't reply, only maintained eye contact with her. Her eyes shifted and finally landed on Sheik, and he saw the corners of her mouth turning slightly upwards.

"And there is our mystery guest," she said. "Ard, please open the windows. I would like to look at him in proper light."

A shadow detached itself from a corner of the room. It surprised the guests, even Sheik. The figure moved to one of the shuttered windows and opened them, letting the light of dawn inside the room. It was lithe and dressed in tight-fitting clothes in various shades of grey. Ard's figure suggested female, but a slight bulge between their legs suggested male. The face was covered by a cloth mask save for a small strip out from which a pair of dark eyes gazed.

But it wasn't Ard's gender that Sheik focused on. It was their stealth. _I didn't even sense him...or her! I should have heard breathing, or noticed the irregular shape in the corner, but I didn't..._

"Ard's presence surprises you, Sheik of the Sheikah," the woman said, smiling apologetically. "He usually does that to people, but I didn't expect him to get the drop on _you_."

 _Hm, male._ He ignored the embarrassing slip-up.

Now that the room had brightened considerably, Sheik could finally get a good look at her face. It was easy to see that she and Rial were related. They shared the same facial structure (although hers had more lines and signs of age), but her eyes were a chilly blue rather than the brilliant green of her nephew's. Her hair was just as black as his, though with streaks of grey here and there. She was wearing the simple clothes of an off-duty soldier. Her stance suggested that she was more than familiar with combat, loose yet rigid enough to fend off a sudden attack.

"Forgive me, I have not introduced myself," she said and stepped forward, reaching out a hand. "I am General Drena Riveth of His Majesty's Royal Army. Oh, and Rial's aunt. You can call me Drena, if you want."

Sheik shook her hand. "I'd introduce myself, but you already seem to know the essentials."

"Indeed I do," she said brightly. "I like to keep tabs on people who cause trouble around here, and you are currently in the top five. Not only did you kill the old king but you also escaped from the dungeons, which is apparently a very difficult thing to do."

"I'd just like to clear something up—"Sheik began.

"Don't worry, I believe in due process and the whole 'innocent until proven guilty' thing," she said. "Besides, there are far too many pieces in this puzzle that don't fit, so I doubt I'll ever be forced to take you in."

"I...I suppose I should thank you, then," Sheik said, baffled by the woman.

"No thanks needed, though I would like to speak to you in private later this evening," the general said. "I have a few questions I would like answered, one of them being about the current location of your friend, the Hero of Time."

 _What interest does she have in Link?_ Sheik wondered. "I'm afraid I do not know where the Hero is," he answered truthfully. "We were separated soon after my escape. And as much as I would like to stay till evening, I must take my leave immediately and search for him."

"Oh, but you cannot possibly leave in that condition," she said. "Look at you, you're all skin and bones, and those clothes look like they're about to fall apart! Please, stay here for a little while to recover your strength."

"I appreciate the offer, General Riveth, but—"

"Sheik is only here because I forced him, general," Angen interrupted. "If he wishes to leave, then I suggest you let him. I have wasted enough of his time."

"Then he will join us for breakfast," Riveth said. "Surely another hour will not hurt?"

Sheik was actually quite hungry, but knew that if he stayed any longer he might be tempted to extend the rest period and was about to protest, but his stomach decided sell him out at that exact moment and let out such a loud growl that he felt his cheeks heat up in a blush before it ended. Angen and Rial snickered while Riveth simply grinned.

"Hah, another betrayal and we haven't even eaten yet. Ah, such is life."

* * *

It was after breakfast, and Sheik was sitting on the rampart, staring out at the lakebed. The soldiers out there never seemed to run out of energy, sparring and exercising as if they were preparing for a never-ending war. Though with the way things were going, Sheik wouldn't have been surprised if one broke out.

He turned his head and looked at General Riveth's house. Ard was still standing by a window and staring straight at him. Sheik shuddered and looked away. There was something about the...assassin? Spy? Bodyguard? He didn't know what Ard's purpose was, but he definitely felt unnerved around him, which was why he had excused himself from breakfast after having his fill. He heard someone grunting as they climbed the ladder behind him.

"There you are," Jeryd said. "You disappeared so soon after breakfast; I thought you'd already left."

"Not yet," Sheik said. "I need to plan my route and get some information about the most likely places to search for him first."

"Our route, you mean," Jeryd said. Sheik opened his mouth, but Jeryd beat him to it. "Don't even think about saying no, Sheik. I promised I'd help you, and help you I shall." The smug look on his face made Sheik want to slap him.

"Then do you have any suggestions?" Sheik asked, realising there was no point in arguing with the human. He'd simply have to slip away in the quiet of night when Jeryd was asleep, or something like that.

"Apart from the major cities? I don't know," Jeryd said, shrugging. "I don't think Urne is a very likely place for him to be, though—all hell is breaking loose down there, apparently."

"Knowing Link, he'd blunder into the situation and get himself hopelessly entangled," Sheik said, a small smile on his lips. "He never takes the time to get a proper view on everything before getting himself involved."

"Do excuse me, your royal highness, but you don't really seem to have that much of an overview of the situation yourself," Jeryd said, grinning.

"What do you mean?" Sheik asked.

"Well, look at the captain and Angen's situation here—you could easily have escaped from both of them the second you were healthy enough to walk, yet you didn't. You could have run away after the troll attack—none of them would've been able to stop you. And yet, here you are." He gestured towards the lakebed. "Whether you want it or not, you're involved."

"Well, I'm leaving now, aren't I?"

"Actually, I don't think you're going to. I think you're too curious about everything that's happening to just abandon all interest and search for the Hero." Jeryd grinned. "I'm right, aren't I?"

Sheik grunted. "While it is true that I am interested in the outcome of all this, I know better than to join a war on a side that is apparently widely considered to be littered with traitors and backstabbers. Why is that, anyway? What did General Riveth do to deserve being stationed here?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Jeryd asked. "She fought against the king during the civil war."

"I thought all the traitor officers were executed."

"Most of them were. Riveth wasn't axed because...well, it's hard to tell for sure, but rumours say she was... _involved_ with the old king. He spared her out of affection, apparently."

"Then why did she fight against him?"

"Who knows? Humans are difficult to read, and most of the things we do never make sense in hindsight." Jeryd cleared his throat. "But I shouldn't be telling you this. Not while we're still in this camp, anyway."

"Afraid someone might be listening?" Sheik asked.

"I _know_ someone is listening," Jeryd said, jerking his head in the direction of Riveth's house. "The masked one. Kept staring at me all the way through breakfast."

"Ard?"

"Is that its name? Huh..."

"Apparently, it is a he."

"Really? Would've guessed a girl, myself."

Both of them went quiet for a minute before Sheik said, "He unnerves you too, doesn't he?"

"Like Death itself was eyeing me from afar," Jeryd said, shuddering. "I don't know who or what he is, but he's bad news, all the same."

"Said the assassin," Sheik narrated.

"That's rich coming from you," Jeryd replied, grinning. "So, when are we leaving?"

"As soon as I get a good look at a map, and then I can...can..."

"Sheik?"

The Sheikah had paused and was staring at a small speck in the sky. It was approaching faster and faster, emitting a shrill cry as it zeroed in on him. Sheik smiled, relief filling his entire being as he held out his arm. Kaiza cried again and spread her wings, slowing down until her talons were in grip range and settled down on her master's arm. Her feathers were ruffled, and she was filthy.

"Is that...?" Jeryd asked.

"I'd like you to meet Kaiza," Sheik said warmly. "One of my oldest friends." He stroked her head, chuckling when the falcon nipped at his fingers with her beak. "How are you doing, girl? Where have you been? You look tired...been flying day and night again, haven't you?"

"I think there's a message for you," Jeryd said and pointed at a piece of paper wrapped around her leg. He was smiling, apparently enjoying watching Sheik being affectionate.

Sheik took the piece of paper and unrolled it. "Hold her for a minute, will you?" he asked and held out the arm Kaiza was perched on. Jeryd held out his own, looking slightly nervous as the sharp talons dug into his arm. "She won't harm you. Unless you give her reason to." Sheik recognised the handwriting immediately and went completely quiet as he read the letter.

_**Sheik,** _

_**I have received the most disturbing of news. A rider from Lumina arrived bearing a message from the prince, claiming you poisoned and murdered his father during a festival of some kind and that you have been imprisoned. He also has the audacity to demand a ransom for your release!** _

_**I do know what has happened in Lumina, Sheik, but I do know that I am worried about the both of you. Please, write me back as soon as you get this message! Be careful, little brother.** _

_**Zelda.** _

_Ransom?_ Sheik thought. _This is getting more and more confusing..._

"Something wrong?" Jeryd asked.

"Everything, it seems," Sheik replied. He needed something to write with...

* * *

"Welcome to our humble abode," Elenwe said as she opened the door to the dilapidated house.

They had arrived in a city called Utum, though the Gerudo eloquently referred to it as "The biggest shithole in the world." It had once been a major trading hub in Lumina, but the highways had rendered it obsolete, sending the whole place into economic regression. It was now known as the criminal capital in the kingdom, which was probably why Elenwe and her partner had chosen to set up business here—no prying eyes from any sort of authorities.

It was late in the evening now, and it was dark. There were no torches in the streets, and it felt like they were being watched from every single window in the neighbourhood. In the distance, they could hear rambunctious laughter and shouting from one of the numerous taverns in the city.

"Wipe your feet, please."

The inside of the house was dark and cold. Most of the windows were boarded up. The air smelled of dust and mould, and Link felt like it coated his tongue every time he took a breath. He was about take a step inside the hall, but a hand on his chest stopped him. Elenwe gave him a pointed look, and then moved her gaze downwards. Link had been about to set off a tripwire.

"One more step and you'd be dead," the Gerudo said with a smile and stepped over the wire. "Close the door and lock it. I'll get us some light."

"Any more traps?" Link asked, feeling paranoid.

"Yes, but I'll deactivate them. Just close the door, will you?" Link did as he was told, not really understanding how Elenwe would be able to do anything in the pitch black darkness. He heard her moving about in the hall, a series of clicks and a match box being opened. "Oh, come on, you stupid little..." she muttered. Then there was a spark, and a small flame erupted in front of her face. She lit an oil lantern and turned it up. "Sorry about that," she said. "It's not very wise to draw attention in this place."

Link said nothing. He wasn't sure how to feel about anything anymore. He had robbed someone of their horses (though they had left said horses at a crossroads close to Utum), and he hadn't been able to shake off the mental image of the poor man and his daughters sitting miserably on their wagon as they sped off along the road. Was it worth it, sacrificing his principles just to be able to get some help?

"Follow me," Elenwe said as she headed for the staircase. "We don't use the downstairs—all sorts of nasty bugs and rats down here." The staircase led up to a single door. Light shone out from under the crack. "A few tips before we go in," Elenwe said, turning to look at Link. "Don't stare at his scars—he hates it when people do that. Don't mention Sheik, and above all, don't overreact!"

"Overreact?" Link asked. "Overreact to what?"

"You'll see," Elenwe said and knocked on the door. It was clearly a code of some sort, consisting of short and long knocks.

They heard some shuffling from the inside. "Enter," said a male voice.

This room, unlike the rest of the house, was brilliantly lit by several candles and a roaring fire in the hearth. There were two beds, one of which hadn't been slept in for a while, by the look of it. The temperature was quite pleasant, though the air was a bit heavy. Several weapons—swords, knives, daggers, an expensive-looking crossbow and, interestingly enough, a flail—lay on a table in a corner. Several books had been piled up next to the fireplace, though clearly not for fuel.

A figure sat cross-legged in the middle of the room next to a candle, their attention focused entirely on a thick volume resting in its lap. The person was wearing casual clothing—simple shirt and trousers—but their head was covered by a hood.

"You're late," the man—for the voice as male—said, closing the book but not looking up at them. "You said a week. It has been a week and a half." The voice was gentle, not lambasting them for being late, just pointing it out as if it was something of great interest.

"What can I say, we were held up," Elenwe said, shutting the door behind them. "Doesn't really help that our knight in shining armour here insisted on being difficult when it came to...requisitioning help."

"You made me steal horses," Link said in annoyance.

"If we hadn't we would have been delayed even more," she retorted.

"Enough," said the man and rose to his feet, leaving the book on the floor. The shadow cast by his hood made it impossible to see his face. "The reason for your delay is not important, the fact that you are here, however, is. Welcome, Hero of Time." He held out a hand, which Link shook with slight hesitation. "You must have a lot of questions."

"I do," Link said.

"Then please, have a seat. You must be exhausted after your journey here. Elenwe, please fetch him some food and water."

Elenwe looked annoyed, but nodded and began to rummage through a pair of burlap sacks by the beds.

Link and the hooded man sat down facing each other, both waiting for the other to start speaking.

"I'm sorry," the man said suddenly. "I realise that I just rudely neglected to introduce myself. My name is K."

"That's it?" Link asked.

"No, but for the moment I'd rather not say my full name."

"Why not?"

"It could have...unfortunate consequences. I'd rather we clear the air before moving on to such matters."

"Clear the air?"

"Yes, clear the air." K looked uncomfortable. "Several months ago, Elenwe and I arrived in Lumina at the behest of a client. We were to eliminate a high-profile target. The job seemed easy enough, with a simple strategy and getaway plan. The pay would be so high that we would not need to take another job in years."

"Something went wrong?" Link asked, feeling a creeping suspicion.

"To put it mildly, yes," K said. "During the discussion of our terms, we were notified that we would need to put the blame on someone else. Plant evidence that would label _them_ as the culprit, not us. I am not sure of the client's reasoning, but I did not think to question him at the time."

"You assassinated the king, didn't you?" Link said, reaching for his sword. "You're the one responsible!"

"Overreacting," Elenwe muttered quietly.

K paused, and then nodded. "Yes, it was me." Link made to draw his weapon, but K raised his arms in defence. "Please, hear me out before you decide to cut my head off. I think I can make you understand."

"Why should I?" Link demanded, hesitating. "Do you have any idea what you've done?"

"Because while I was the reason that your...friend was falsely accused and imprisoned, I am also the reason for why you were able to escape afterwards," K said.

"With a little help from me, of course," Elenwe said.

K nodded. "That is correct."

Link felt his arm drop limply by his side. "I don't understand," he said. "If you're the ones who killed the king and managed to pin the blame on someone else, then why did you free him afterwards? Can't be guilt, you wouldn't have killed anyone if it were." He clenched his fist, anger starting to build within his chest. He was sitting right in front of the man responsible for everything that had happened, and the mere sight of him was pissing him off.

"You're right, it is not guilt," K said, nodding. "I have...special interest in Sheik."

"What do you mean?" Link asked. "How do you know him?"

K and Elenwe seemed to share a glance. "You mean you haven't figured it out?" Elenwe asked.

"Figured what out?"

"Perhaps it is best that I just show you," K said and pulled back his hood. Link gasped. The left side of his face was covered in scars, some of them looking like burns, others like cuts. His hair was a deep shade of purple, nearly appearing blue in the firelight. A small frown was on his lips. But the most outstanding feature, the one thing that shocked Link to his core, was his eyes. They were a deep red, staring with an intensity Link had only seen in one other person.

"You're...you're a Sheikah?" Link exclaimed, scrabbling backwards in surprise.

K nodded. "I am. One of the last."

"But...I thought Sheik..." Link gaped, and then a realisation struck him. "You're...you're him, aren't you? The one who abandoned the Sheikah all those years ago!"

"I wouldn't call it abandoning as much as I would call it leaving a sinking ship," K said, still frowning. "Sheik would of course call it a betrayal, as would Impa, but I'd rather be a traitor than a fool hopelessly clinging to a tradition that got our entire people killed in a foolish war with the Gerudo."

Link couldn't find anything to say. He only kept staring at the blood red eyes, which stared right back at him.

"Sheik never told you the full story, did he?" K asked.

"He never told me anything about you. Only that you left."

"I am not surprised," K said, sighing. "I hurt him deeply that day, physically and emotionally. But he did leave a mark on me as well." He touched one of the burn scars on his cheek. "That's the last time I ever underestimated a child with a torch in his hand." When Link remained silent, K shook his head. "I realise that this is a lot to take in, Hero, but I would like to reassure you that I do not intend you or Sheik any harm. In fact, I am trying my best to help him. To fix the mess I created."

Link was unable to stifle a yawn that had suddenly snuck up on him, leaving K looking slightly amused.

"Tired, Hero?"

"He needs sleep," Elenwe said, handing Link some food and water. "We've barely had any rest since escaping from Urne."

"Forgive me," K said, bowing his head slightly. "I did not realise. Please, take one of the beds if you are tired."

Link couldn't deny the fatigue that was weighing him down, but there were so many questions he wanted to ask, so many things he wanted to know. He also didn't trust K as far as he could throw him. "How do I know you won't slit my throat in my sleep?" he asked.

"If I wanted you dead, Hero, Elenwe wouldn't have interfered with your poisoning at the countess' mansion," K said. "I know it is hard to believe, but I am trying to make up for my mistakes. I have never asked anyone to trust me, but I am asking you now. Please, trust me."

The bed did seem awfully tempting, and Link couldn't argue with the logic. Elenwe had had several opportunities to knife him in the back since their escape from the mansion as well, so... And if he was serious about wanting to help Sheik, then there was no way he could turn his back on him.

"There's one thing I need to know before I can trust you," the Hero said, watching K carefully. "What is your name?"

For the first time, K smiled. "Kafei."

* * *

**Soul Remnants  
Chapter 23**

* * *

Leonard dropped the report he'd been reading, sighing heavily as he picked up another. He and Victor were sitting in the king's study, pouring over every bit of correspondence between the castle and various military outposts. Most of them were between General Agon and various officers. The sun was shining in through the window, casting light on the large table that was piled high with copies of said reports.

"I don't see anything that can be construed as suspicious, Your Majesty," the noble said, eyes darting along the writing. "They're just supply reports, casualty reports, requests for reinforcements, battle reports…even if something fishy is going on here, they're good at hiding it in the words."

Victor gave a sigh as well. "You're right," he said. "I am not sure why I thought we'd find something."

Leonard cleared his throat. "Perhaps if you told me exactly what to look for, Your Majesty, I would have better luck finding it."

"Stop calling me 'Your Majesty'," Victor said without looking up from the particularly long-winded report on rebel movements he was reading. "The nobles might think it is rude in public, but I'd like to be called by my name in private, at least. And as for what we are looking for…well, I wish I could give you a more definite answer." He put the report down; tired of seeing the words 'Glorious' and 'Charge' over and over again as Agon described how he'd ridden down dangerous rebels and mercenaries, which Victor had a feeling meant peasants armed with nothing but pitchforks and sickles.

"After my previous observer was killed under suspicious circumstances I dispatched another one in a clever disguise. However, that has also made it more difficult for him to actually get any real reports to me. As a result, I have little to no idea what is going on down south, and when the only reports I receive are from Agon or his underlings…"

"There's no real objectivity to it," Leonard finished, nodding. "You are, essentially, blind." He suddenly blushed. "I apologise," he said, staring down at his lap. "I did not mean to offend you—"

"There was possible offense in that sentence?" Victor asked, confused. "You were only stating the truth—I am blind as a bat to the goings-on in my own kingdom, you're right. It's ridiculous!"

Leonard looked at Victor with a serious expression, and the king knew exactly what question was about to emerge from his mouth.

"What exactly is going on?"

Victor closed his eyes, feeling a headache coming on. Leonard was the closest thing he had to a friend in the castle these days. After the burning of the three villages, Victor had asked him for help, but he hadn't revealed everything about what was happening, mostly because he wasn't sure the noble could be trusted. For the past three days, he had had Leonard visit him and help him pour over paperwork dating from all the way back to the night of his father's assassination. Everything that had happened afterwards was just a confusing jumble, and he figured that there had to be some clues hidden in the paper trail. So far, however, they'd found nothing. And now Leonard had asked the one question Victor didn't want to answer.

"It's difficult to explain," the king said carefully. "And you might just laugh at me..."

Leonard shook his head. "I could never laugh at you...Victor. I can see that this is something important." The teenager smiled at him, and Victor smiled back.

"Alright, then," he said and coughed. "I believe that someone in conspiring against me."

Leonard seemed to have been expecting something else. "And?" he asked.

"And..." Victor briefly considered telling him absolutely _everything_ , but he couldn't afford to lose his only ally. "That's it."

"Is that why we are checking the records?" Leonard asked. "To look for correspondence between conspirators?"

"Now that you say it like that, it sounds a bit naïve, doesn't it?" Victor said, feeling embarrassed. "I suppose any letters or notes of that nature would be burned or otherwise destroyed after the recipient read it."

"It would not be farfetched, no," Leonard agreed.

The king sighed for the umpteenth time that day. "Then I'm back where I started," he said. "I've no idea what to do. I've no idea who I can trust."

"Why is that?"

"Because...because I think Councillor Rehm is the brain behind it. No, I _know_ he is." Technically, Victor supposed _he_ was one of the conspirators as well...or maybe this was a different one entirely. He rose from his chair and began pacing around the room. "And the council leader has a finger in everything from the military to the bloody agricultural industry... I know how it sounds. Paranoid, right? But I have definite proof that Rehm has had...shady dealings."

"And that proof is...?"

He paused. "I can't tell you," he said. "I have proof, but I can't tell you."

"Why not?"

"Because..." He looked at the floor. _Because then I would have to tell you that I authorised the poisoning of my own father_ , he thought. "I just can't, okay?"

Leonard looked confused, but nodded all the same. "Then...what are your plans? What are you going to do?" he asked.

"I don't even know where to start."

"Then may I suggest something?"

"Go ahead."

"Have someone you trust tail Rehm at all times. Sooner or later, he's bound to slip up and reveal something suspicious."

"Ah, but therein lies the crux of the matter," Victor said. "I don't _have_ anyone I can trust. As far as I know, Rehm has the entire council and the royal guards in his pocket. I daren't send a letter to The Guild, because if Rehm somehow sees the request... And tailing him at the moment would be difficult anyway."

"Because?"

"Because I sent him to Urne to arrest General Agon." The king flopped back in his chair. "I knew even then that letting him leave the castle would most likely be a mistake—if he is in cahoots with the general, then nothing will come of it."

He _knew_ that Rehm and Agon were in cahoots. But doing anything but offering Rehm _The Chimera_ to aid him in his search would look bad to the public, very bad indeed.

"Still, I figured that with him away for a while, I could get some time to think, to do some research and find undeniable proof that he is scheming. But since I can't trust anyone and this pile of concentrated boring hasn't revealed anything..."

"So the entire issue here is trust, is it?" Leonard asked. At Victor's nod, he looked thoughtful for a moment. "Do you trust me?"

The king thought about it for a moment before answering, "Yes."

"Then send _me_."

"What?" Victor looked at him incredulously.

"I said: send me," Leonard repeated. "Look, I'm a minor noble, right? Minor nobles can only hope to have minor goals in life—the highest we can hope for are minister positions and such, correct? Well, people like me are often apprenticed to politicians to learn the ropes. Some also become assistants. Rehm doesn't have one, as I recall, and if I were to become his apprentice or assistant..."

"Then you'd be able to keep an eye on him," Victor finished. "Leonard, you're brilliant!"

"Hardly, Your Majesty," Leonard said, blushing slightly. "And please...call me Len."

"But how are we going to do it?" Victor said. "I can't send you myself; Rehm will know something is up..."

"Perhaps something can be arranged with the rest of the council?" Leonard—or Len—suggested. "My mother is close with councillor Ise, and she _hates_ Rehm—maybe she can work out a deal."

Victor thought about it. Councillor Ise was someone he hadn't thought of as a possible ally. But now that Len hard mentioned her...he couldn't recall the two councillors being particularly cordial with each other. Maybe there was something he could take advantage of in there...

"I don't know, Len..."

"What's wrong?" Len asked.

"It's just...this is going to get dangerous. People are going to die. I don't want to put you at risk..."

"I'm volunteering, Victor."

"What about your lover? What will he think?"

"I won't tell him." Len leaned forward in his chair, putting his hands on the table. "Your Majesty, this is a plan I intend to go through with whether I have your blessing or not. If there is a conspiracy against the crown, then I will do everything in my power to stop it. I swear on the blood of my ancestors, on the grave of my father, on the life of—"

"Okay, okay, I get it," Victor said, waving his hands. "I can't convince you not to go, can I?"

"No," Len said, smiling. "The words you said to me back when we first met changed my life for the better, Victor. You might even have saved it." He gingerly touched his left wrist, which was covered by the sleeve of his shirt. "And I intend to repay the favour. No matter what the risk is."

Victor stared at the impossibly brave young man on the other side of the table. The determination in his eyes discouraged any attempt to convince him to abandon this foolishness, and Victor knew that he had never been a great speaker. "Very well," he conceded. "But I want you to promise me something."

"What is it?"

"If you at any point feel like you are in danger, get away from Rehm immediately and come back to the castle, do you understand? If he acts threatening, cut your losses and return. Promise me that."

"I promise, Your Majesty."

"Thank you, Leonard."

Len rose from his chair. "There are many arrangements to be made, and before that can happen I must write a letter to my mother. If you will excuse me..."

Victor watched him go, wondering how he had just been persuaded to allow a mere boy to risk his life for his sake. He knew right then that he would never be a good king. Both for letting himself get talked into something so easily, and for the fact that he was not taking any blows himself. He fished out a poster from underneath a pile of reports, staring at the portrait under the words **WANTED DEAD OR ALIVE**. Rial's face stared back, frozen in a half-sneer.

"I should never have listened to them, Rial," he said quietly. "I should never have trusted them... Please...come back."

* * *

General Riveth and Rial were currently sitting alone in the general's living room, staring at each other from either end of the breakfast table. Angen had gone to say hello to some old friends who worked in the infirmary, and Sid was...just gone. Most likely searching for a way to get drunk. Riveth was leaning back in her chair, looking quite casual.

Ard had disappeared somewhere on her command, which had relieved Rial to no end. There was something _wrong_ about the grey-clad...man? Boy? It was hard to tell his age.

"So," Riveth said, "care to tell me the whole story? I have, of course, already been informed by messengers and some very unflattering wanted posters, but I have a feeling that the story has been heavily biased against you thus far."

"And why wouldn't what _I_ tell you be biased in _my_ favour?" Rial asked sourly.

"Oh, I'm not saying it won't," Riveth said. "I just want to hear it from the mouth of someone who was actually there."

"Then ask Sid. He was there too."

"The only thing I know about Sid is that he is an ex-spy, and because of that, I don't trust him very much," she said flatly. "And he's not the son of my darling little brother, may he rest in peace."

"You knew of Father's passing?" Rial asked, surprised.

"Rial, I have eyes and ears all over the kingdom," Riveth said happily. "Just because I am confined to this place doesn't mean that I intend to become deaf, dumb and blind. Not a thing happens without me knowing about it, especially not when it involves my family. I was sorry to hear about his death, and I sent some money to your mother...did she get them?"

"I don't know," Rial said. "I haven't spoken to her since the burial. We...had a falling out after I refused to reconsider my choice of career."

"She still doesn't approve of you joining the military all those years ago?"

"Apparently not. And Father's death was the final straw, it seems..."

"I've never understood that woman." Riveth shook her head, looking at her hands. They were still strong, but also lined with age. "Then again, I was never married, and I never had any children, so I guess I'll never come to experience that level of protectiveness." She looked back at Rial, smiling softly at him. "I know you are still angry at me, Rial, but you never heard the full story. You were never made aware of all the facts."

"Then tell me, general," Rial said. "Make me understand."

"Let's make it a fair trade," she replied. "You tell me what happened at the castle, and I'll tell you what happened back then."

"Who talks first?"

"Let's flip a coin."

Rial lost, and he told her everything. How he'd listened in on the meeting between Rehm, Agon and Marlotta, how he'd confronted Agon afterwards and how his men had been massacred mere hours afterwards He told her of how he'd come to Angen's inn and found the apparent assassin of King Robar and their journey to Æsir Fortress. Riveth said nothing throughout the whole story, only nodded and made humming sounds whenever she found something interesting. Only when Rial had finished did she open her mouth again.

"Well, nephew, I want to say that nothing is your fault and that you did everything right...but the truth is, you screwed up, and you screwed up royally."

"What?" Rial asked in disbelief. "What'd I do wrong?"

"Well, the first mistake was not going to the young king immediately after listening in on the meeting," Riveth said. "If you had, you could have nipped the whole thing in the bud."

"I had no evidence," Rial said, unprepared for such criticism. "Accusing someone of treason without evidence is punishable by death!"

"And you had evidence in the form of a testimony from an eyewitness," Riveth countered. "Your friend Sid."

"You said you didn't trust him, why would the king?"

"Because the king wouldn't care about his background, would he, as long as his bodyguard vouched for him?" She leaned forward, staring intensely at Rial. "And if you and the young Victor were such good friends, do you truly doubt that he would believe you?"

"I...didn't...er..." Rial couldn't find anything to say.

"Oh, Rial, you were so obsessed with following the rules that they only served as a noose." Riveth sighed. "I'm sure the king would have believed you...and now Agon has filled the castle with his own men...and they will not let it go that easily."

Rial gritted his teeth. "I know... What was my second mistake?"

"Why, confronting that arse-head Agon, of course," she said as-a-matter-of-factly, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Had you been able to restrain yourself, you could easily have had more time to gather real, hard evidence against the conspirators. You could have crashed one of their meetings, for example, caught them red-handed! But no, you had to fly off the handle at the biggest psychopath I have ever met in my life. And then you failed to prepare yourself against any sort of backlash from him."

"I didn't expect him to go that far..."

"Of course you didn't, you don't know Agon like I do. But here's a rule of thumb when it comes to that man: he always goes for the heavy-handed option. Don't expect subtlety or cleverness from him. Prepare yourself with swords and shields, not pens and words."

Rial knew she was right—he had acted far too rashly, and he had not thought well enough about the consequences of what he did. The look of betrayal on Victor's face flashed before his mind's eye and made his chest tighten.

"Is...is there a third mistake?" he asked hesitantly.

" _You_ would say it is a mistake, but _I'd_ call it a good decision." She paused. "You decided to come to me."

Rial groaned. "Of course you'd say that..."

"That hurts, Rial," Riveth said, touching her chest. "Despite everything that has happened, despite all the words that have been said, we are still family, and I love you."

"I ran out of options..."

"Exactly, and you came to a family member. One's family is one's last line of defence," she said. "And believe me; I am _damn_ good at holding the line!"

Rial couldn't help but smile at that. His aunt had always been good at cheering him up. Talking with her now...it almost felt like he was eighteen again, a fresh recruit in the Royal Army. He'd wanted to join up with her unit, which spent most of the time in the heaviest fighting on the frontline, but she convinced him to stay with Angen's, knowing he'd be safe with him. And then he'd been offered a position in the Royal Guard, and she'd insisted he take it. He'd been happy...for a while. Until the final months of the war.

"Now _there's_ the beautiful smile I've missed for the past twelve years," Riveth said. "I knew you hadn't lost the ability."

"What happened, Aunt Drena?" he asked, using a name that had not been on his lips for a long time. "Why did you betray the king?"

Riveth frowned, the mirth in her voice draining away as she spoke. "It is...a difficult story to tell, and it reveals some rather unsavoury things about me. Can you handle it?"

"Considering everything that has happened, I do not think anything can shock me anymore," Rial said.

"Very well, then," Riveth said, drinking some water. "Back when I was young, having just received my officer's commission, I spent a lot of my time as a liaison between the military and the castle. Up until then I had been so focused on my career that I had never had much experience with...love, or the base desires, for that matter. My job required me to spend many hours reading out reports to King Robar, often in private due to the sensitive information. It felt so...natural. There was a connection."

Rial's eyes widened. "You didn't!"

Riveth nodded. "We were both vulnerable. The queen had recently passed away, and Robar was lonely. I was...inexperienced, didn't know how to react, so I went with it. It was strictly a one-time affair, of course! We both came to our senses afterwards." She looked regretful. "Or, rather, one of us did, the other one only thought so. I never stopped loving him, no matter how many others I invited into my bed."

Rial grimaced, not really wanting to know about his aunt's sexual escapades.

"So, about twenty years pass, I was promoted rapidly, and the civil war is raging. You had recently finished your basic training and were eager to go into battle. I was on the frontline, fighting for my king and country. Or so I thought. But after capturing and interrogating one of the rebel ring leaders, I was shocked to my very core. Of course, I didn't believe it at first, but after having this information confirmed by several others and finding a cache of documents bearing his name..." Her eyes turned hard.

"The historians will say that the war started as a result of nobles that were unhappy with taxation laws and taking their frustration out on their people, and the people growing tired and fighting back, eventually growing into an army that marched on Lumina City, absorbing several disillusioned military units on the way."

"But that's not the truth?" Rial asked.

"Far from it," Riveth said, shaking her head. "The war was started by one man, and one man only. He manipulated, paid off and provoked the people of Lumina until the entire kingdom turned into a powder keg—and then he lit a match. He hired foreign mercenaries to dress up as the king's men, and had them ride into a village, slaughtering everyone. And the rest you know—civilians marched on the capital, soldiers joined them, and the civil war broke out."

Rial was on the edge of his seat. "Who was that man?" he asked.

"Someone we both know very well, nephew," Riveth said, clenching her fist. "Councillor Rehm, the king's own advisor."

Rial felt like someone had socked him in the gut. "Rehm?" he growled. "He was behind it?"

Riveth nodded. "I couldn't believe it myself, so I had it double- and triple-checked...but it was true. I even got a hold of one of the mercenary leaders, who was kind enough to provide me with detailed descriptions of what they had done at Rehm's behest, and showed me receipts of their transactions."

"What did you do with him afterwards?"

"I had _her_ detained, naturally," Riveth said. "She committed suicide while in the care of my men. After confirming my worst fears, I immediately rode for the capital, where Robar was holding council. I travelled with a small party, fearing that I'd draw unnecessary attention if I took more than six men with me. I needed to get to Robar, needed to warn him of the treason! For all I knew, Rehm could be trying to depose him! I arrived in Lumina City, stormed the council chambers flanked by my men. I only intended to arrest him..."

"There was a misunderstanding." Rial frowned.

"Yes, unfortunately," Riveth said sadly. "Somehow, Rehm had gotten wind of my arrival and intention, and arranged for me to look like I was trying to assassinate the king. My men were on edge, and when one of them bowed to the pressure and struck out at the councillor, it was at an unfortunate angle and appeared to be aimed at Robar. Rehm saw an opportunity and let himself be hit, appearing to take the blow for his king. Rehm became a hero, I was forced to flee. My men gave their lives to ensure my escape."

An odd sense was filling Rial. He had heard the same story. Had experienced it. Only the people that were involved had changed. "What did you do then?" he asked.

"I returned to my unit, consulted with my officers and explained the situation. Robar had been tricked, and those who fought in his name were actually being manipulated by Rehm for reasons that still elude me. We joined the rebels—we saw it as the only right thing to do..."

"But you lost."

"We lost. Most of my officers were executed for treason—I was spared."

"Why?"

"I can only assume Robar remembered the moment we had shared so many years ago and took pity on me. He interfered in my trial directly. He restored me to my rank, gave me back what was left of my old unit and reassigned me to Æsir Fortress. I still have free reign, but I have been _kindly_ and repeatedly informed that my presence is not welcome south of here."

"You were hidden away."

"Mhm." Riveth looked exhausted, as if telling the story had been a massive undertaking for her. "And here we remain, forever waiting for orders that will never arrive." She let out a breath. "Ah, I haven't told that story in years...felt good. Especially since _you_ were the one to hear it. I sent letters to you, trying to explain, but I'm not sure if..."

"I never received them," Rial said honestly. "I suppose everyone just wanted to forget your existence."

"Probably very true..."

They both fell silent for a few minutes, just staring at each other. Rial felt like a fool. He had always believed what he had been told by his superiors, what the town criers had proclaimed, what had become public knowledge...and had never given his aunt a chance to explain herself, had never even _considered_ travelling to the fortress to see her. Perhaps he'd been too proud, or too afraid to find out on a subconscious level... They had lost years, because of _him_.

"I...I owe you an apology, Aunt Drena," he said quietly, unable to meet her gaze. "I never thought...I..."

"You don't owe me anything, Rial...I understand your reaction..." She reached across the table and took his hand in hers. "I'm just glad we were able to see each other again, and finally get some closure." She squeezed his hand. He squeezed back. "We have a long way to go, nephew, but we've taken the first step." She let go of his hand and stood up, her face serious. "Now, we need to figure out what we're going to do."

"What?"

"Our strategy, boy!" Riveth said, striding over to the map-filled table in the corner. "Our family has been greatly insulted _twice_ by Councillor Rehm, and based on what you have told me and the information gathered by my...friends, it seems that he is up to something yet again. Well, he has gotten the drop on us once, but this time _we_ will get the drop on _him_."

"Are you suggesting what I think you are?" Rial said, dread quickly replacing the joy he'd felt at reuniting with his aunt. "Please tell me you aren't!"

"I'm thinking a march on the capital," Riveth said, no hint of joke in her voice. "Robar was ensnared by the bastard Rehm, and now his son is in his clutches as well. As a soldier of the Royal Army, I simply cannot allow this to continue! If we leave within the week and double-time it, we'll be at the gates of Lumina City by the end of next month."

"Not that I'm doubting your tactical prowess, Aunt Dr—"

"General," she interrupted, eyes blazing. "When we're discussing military matters, I am General Riveth to you, captain."

"Y-yes, general," Rial said, gulping. He'd forgotten how scary his aunt could be when focused like this. "I-I'm not doubting your ability to lead, general, but I don't think you have enough men to take the capital. Remember that Agon has thousands of men at his disposal, and you only have, what, five hundred—"

"Seven hundred and fifty-three," Riveth corrected him. "All of them experienced veterans."

"They won't be enough," Rial finished weakly.

Riveth paused and looked at him. "Yes, I agree," she said, nodding. "As good as my soldiers are, they can't take on an army numbering in the thousands by themselves..."

Rial felt relieved. "And then there's the fact that we'd apparently be betraying the crown yet _again_ —"

"Oh, I've no problems with that," Riveth said. "By the sound of it, the crown is a joke these days anyway."

"Perhaps, but still..."

"We _still_ have to leave the fortress, however. Rehm will probably anticipate you coming here and will be sending someone to take us out. This god-forsaken place is impossible to defend, and staying here will get us all killed."

"Where will we go?"

"We'll decide that right now. Take a look at this map, captain..."

* * *

**Soul Remnants  
Chapter 24**

* * *

"What are you thinking?"

Sheik looked up from the map he was studying. General Riveth had been kind enough to grant him access to them as long as he promised to answer a few questions before he left. He and Jeryd were currently in the second floor study of Riveth's house, the downstairs being occupied by the general herself and Rial—they were planning something important, by the sound of it. Jeryd was sitting on the other side of the table, apparently content with letting the Sheikah do all the work.

"That Lumina is a big bloody kingdom," Sheik answered, sliding a finger along a trading road. "It looked small on the map of the known world, but…"

"It's much bigger than it appears," Jeryd finished, grinning. "You're not the first to make the assumption that you can walk across it in a week. There's a reason for why no one's been able to invade us for the past five hundred years or so."

Sheik shook his head. "I believe the feat of keeping your enemies out was accomplished by the mountains around you rather than the size of your territory."

"Ah, but in those few times that an enemy army _has_ managed to set their feet on our soil, they have quickly marched themselves to exhaustion in the belief that the fort they were supposed to take was simply on the other side of that hill," Jeryd said. "It's a running joke in the military that any enemy that makes it into our kingdom will die long before they meet any of our blades."

"It's not so now, though, is it?" Sheik asked. "You're fighting against yourselves—civilians and military clashing in battle, both sides knowing the lay of the land and the general geography..."

" _I'm_ not fighting," Jeryd said, sounding offended. "I'm not part of the idiocy happening in Urne."

"But you _are_ part of the idiocy happening here, though," Sheik said. "With me."

"Only because I don't think it's fair for you—either of you—to be pulled into this mess," the human countered.

"And if against all logic and probability you manage to get both me and Link out of Lumina, what will you do then? If civil war breaks out, you're going to be roped into it no matter what." Sheik pointed a challenging finger at him. "What will you do? Stand and fight, or run away and hide?"

"Are you questioning my loyalty to my own country?" Jeryd asked, his accent changing to that of a posh, highborn man, holding a hand over his heart. "What an affront! How dare thee, sir, to question my mettle?" He stood up, brandishing an imaginary sword. "I will, naturally, pick up my sword—"

"Dagger."

"—dagger, thank you, and cut my way to the heart, the crux, the very _centre_ of the issue!"

"And what are the heart, crux and centre of the issue?" Sheik asked, amused by the young man's sudden change.

"Why, whether or not I should uphold my Guild's most revered and sacred rule!"

"Which is?"

"'If you can, run like hell'," Jeryd said, grinning. "Heavily paraphrased, of course. I'd probably get ten lashes if any of the prefects heard me."

Sheik couldn't help but laugh. "Golden rule, eh?"

"Golden rule!"

"Remind me to never rely on you in the thick of battle," Sheik said, looking back at the map. He had no idea where to start searching for Link. Jeryd had shown him the river they had fallen into and the place where Angen had fished them out, but didn't help with locating Link. For all they knew, Link could've been taken anywhere. He could be back at the castle, suffering at the hands of the dungeon torturer, or maybe he'd been taken to a prison...hell, Link could even have been transported out of Lumina entirely!

"If you ever find yourself by my side in the middle of a battle, Sheik, you can count on me to have your back...until I see an opportunity to escape and take it," Jeryd said jokingly. "Actually, I think you're the only person I'd be willing to fight and die next to."

"Is that an attempt at flattery?" Sheik asked without looking up.

"If you find it charming, then yes," Jeryd said. "Otherwise, no. It is an attempt to reassure you that I am not going to run away before I have fulfilled my promise to you and the Hero." He then also returned to the map he was studying, humming a little. "I don't think they would take him to Urne," he said. "They wouldn't risk losing a hostage like the Hero of Time to the rebels."

"That only leaves...roughly ninety-five percent of the kingdom left to search, then," Sheik said with fake cheer. "What luck! We'll surely have our quest finished by midday!"

"There's no need to be nasty," Jeryd said. "I was only trying to eliminate some options."

"I know, I know," Sheik said tiredly, rubbing his eyes. They'd been at this since just after breakfast, and now the skies were starting to darken already. "Even if we managed to decide where to search first, we wouldn't be able to leave today anyway—we're losing daylight."

"Pretty sure the general wouldn't have let us, anyway. We just ended a very exhausting journey with little to no supplies...and I don't care what you say, you need to eat and sleep to regain some semblance of strength before you embark upon yet _another_ journey." Jeryd blinked. "Come to think of it, _I_ wouldn't have let you leave with the condition you're in."

Sheik groaned. "Not you too..."

"I always thought that the Sheikah were capable of taking care of themselves," Jeryd mused. "But you seem to insist on working yourself into the ground, passing out from exhaustion and dying from hunger before you can be of any use to anyone, much less yourself. Tell me, at what point will I have to start mothering you? I can't promise I'll be able to breastfeed you, but I can try—"

"Oh, piss off!"

Jeryd's laughter could be heard all the way across the lakebed. By the time it died down, Sheik was beet-red and staring furiously at anything but the human.

"But seriously, though," Jeryd continued, "you aren't doing anyone any favours by turning yourself into a mess like this. It does not help your princess and definitely not your Hero. So, chin up, eat something and sleep so deeply that your snores would tear open the skies themselves and reveal the face of creation!"

Face still red, Sheik could only stare at him. "Do you _always_ exaggerate things like this?" he asked.

"More or less," Jeryd admitted. "I use humour as a defence mechanism. Does it show?"

The Sheikah scoffed and tried to immerse himself in the geography of Lumina, trying to unlock its secrets, to understand it, to memorise it... and to find out where the bloody hell the bloody Hero of Bloody Time was!

He was impatient, he knew. It made it difficult to concentrate. He just wanted to find Link and get the hell out of the kingdom. Something was wrong, and it was setting his teeth on edge. Too many things didn't add up. And the fact that he just _knew_ who had poisoned the king didn't help matters. It had taken him so long to figure it out because he subconsciously didn't want it to be true—but it was the only piece that fitted perfectly into that part of the puzzle.

 _I swore I would kill him the next time I saw him,_ he thought. _Didn't think it'd happen so soon..._

"Something's bothering you, I can tell," Jeryd said. "Want to talk about it?"

"Are you mothering me now?" Sheik asked.

"No, I'm just being a friend now," the human said kindly. "Bottling things up can only lead to ugly things happening. It's better to let it all out."

Sheik debated with himself for a moment. Could it truly hurt to tell him? What could Jeryd possibly do with that information? Nothing harmful, that's for certain. If anything, it'd serve as a final proof that Sheik was innocent! "I..." he hesitated.

"Go on," Jeryd said, smiling.

"I think I know...who killed the king. I've thought, and analyzed, and pondered and contemplated it ever since the night we escaped from the city." Sheik stood up and walked over the window, looking out.

The sun was about to set behind the vast hills to the west. The day had barely lasted for eight hours and now it was ending again. It was getting chilly, the breaths of the soldiers practicing endlessly in the field starting to smoke even now. It seemed like the first snow of the extraordinarily early winter would fall soon, and he'd rather not be caught up in it.

He wanted to go home before Zelda did something drastic and hasty. He'd written her a letter that briefly explained the situation and would send Kaiza back first in the morning—he wanted to send the message right away, but knew that the falcon needed rest before she could take on a journey like that again. She was currently perched on the back of his chair, sleeping soundly, apparently undisturbed his and Jeryd's antics.

It was hard to find the words. "You remember when I said I was the last of the Sheikah?" he asked. Jeryd made a confirming sound. "Well, I was lying."

"What do you mean?" Jeryd said, suddenly excited. "There are more of you? Where are they? Are they exactly like you?"

Sheik shook his head. "There's only one more," he explained. "And he is _nothing_ like me. It is a long story, and one I'd rather not tell, but circumstances have apparently placed him here, in this kingdom."

Jeryd had deflated a bit after hearing that, it seemed, as he remained silent.

"And someone must have paid him a handsome sum to murder the king using a poison only _he_ would know the ingredients to: Red Viper. I didn't want to face that fact at first—I wanted to believe that maybe someone had found a recipe somewhere, or maybe bought it off him...but not even _he_ would be as stupid as to give anyone the means to brew such a horrible concoction." He shuddered.

"Do you hate him?" Jeryd asked carefully.

"Hate...does not describe how I feel about him," Sheik said slowly, turning around to look at Jeryd. His hands were shaking, the feelings he had worked so hard to lock away rushing back at an alarming pace. "We are talking about someone who went against his clan, his people, his _family_ , all because he would not accept what he is."

"He didn't like being a Sheikah?"

"He abhorred it, but not because of his red eyes, blond hair or pale skin, no, but because he simply could not stand the idea of serving the royal family of Hyrule, to whom our people owe a great debt, a debt that can never truly be repaid." His heart was racing now, his stomach twisting. _I'm sorry, Zelda, but I will never truly be free from my oath to you..._

"It is the single greatest shame suffered by my clan, and it absolutely devastated my aunt, Impa, who had raised him since he was a toddler... I tried to stop him, but..." Sheik paused, touching his chest. He had several scars on his body, but only two of them served as reminders every single time he touched or saw them. The big scar from the time Speil had killed him in the Forest Temple, and a smaller one, further down the ribs on his left side, from the night when... "I wasn't strong enough," he finished, letting the hand drop. "And then we were only two."

Jeryd stared at him, eyes wide. He could hear the hurt in Sheik's voice, the slight tremor that went through the teen as he spoke. "What...what happened to Impa? If you're the last..."

"She ascended, became a Sage," Sheik said, staring at the wall directly behind Jeryd's head. "Left me as the head of the clan...left the task of eventually dealing with Kafei to me."

"Kafei..." Jeryd repeated.

"I always knew that I would have to deal with him eventually, have to settle the matter of honour, but I was hoping to put that off for a long time..." Sheik clenched his left fist, the skin where his fingers had once been tightening painfully. "But it seems the task has snuck up on me."

"What are you going to do?" Jeryd asked carefully.

"I have to confront him, don't I?" Sheik said. "I was planning to, eventually, when I was free of...distractions." He sighed. "But I need to prioritise what really matters: finding Link."

"Why can't you just...let it go? Forgive him?"

Jeryd knew immediately that he has said something wrong as Sheik went completely rigid, and the room seemed to grow colder as the Sheikah's eyes slowly narrowed.

"Let it go?" he asked slowly. "No, I cannot let it go, Jeryd, for that means that I dishonour not only myself, but my family, his family and, by extension, my entire race! To let Kafei go unpunished would put me on the same level as him—a traitor to the clan!" He slammed his fist into the wall, ignoring the pain. "I am _not_ a traitor!"

 _What am I doing? This is not me,_ Sheik thought. Anger was bursting from every pore of his body, the thought of Kafei's face as he turned his back on Sheik for the last time and disappeared enraging him beyond anything he had ever felt before. _Control! Control!_ he barked in his mind. _You are disgracing yourself!_

Jeryd could only stare as Sheik, breathing heavily and muttering under his breath, rested his forehead against the wall. Kaiza had woken up because of the shouting and was peering at Sheik with a look of curiosity, sensing her master's distress. "Sheik...?" Jeryd tried, almost afraid of upsetting the younger man further.

"I need some fresh air," Sheik said calmly, pushing away from the wall. He seemed to take a moment to compose himself before heading for the staircase. "Alone," he added as Jeryd opened his mouth in order to offer his company.

The doors to Riveth's living room were open, and both she and Rial seemed to be deep in planning something. They didn't even notice the front door opening and practically slamming shut. The guards outside gave him strange looks, but he didn't care. No one was on the rampart, and he climbed up the ladder. It was getting significantly colder outside now, and he slightly regretted not wearing something warmer, his breath coming out as huffs of smoke. Leaning on the spiked logs, he sighed, ashamed of himself. His heart was still beating wildly, and he felt a strong desire to punch something, anything.

 _This isn't me,_ he repeated to himself. _I never get this angry. I_ swore _I would never get this angry again. It distracts, confuses, diverts...it gets people killed._ Somehow, under all the background noise and the sound of the rushing blood in his ears, he could've sworn he heard a deep laugh. He groaned. _No, no, he's not there,_ he thought. _He's dead and gone. I was just having nightmares..._

He paused. Someone was standing next to him, less than two feet away. _I was just dreaming! He's no there!_ Every hair on his body stood up as he shivered, slowly turning his head, dreading to see the shadow staring back...

It was Ard. He wasn't even looking at Sheik, but was mirroring his position, leaning on the ramparts and staring out at the camp.

"You," Sheik said, breathing out in relief, though he still felt apprehensive.

He had never met anyone, assassin or otherwise, who could sneak up on him or remain undetected as Ard had. Every living being, unconsciously or not, gave away their presence in one way or another. Some breathed heavily, some gave off a particular scent, some shuffled their feet, and some couldn't keep their hands from fidgeting... Sheik had always been good at detecting people. Breathing always gave them away. But Ard...Ard did none of those things. He was breathing, the steady rise and fall of his shoulders revealed that, but he did not make a sound at all. It was like he was cut off from the world, in some way, only his physical presence remaining.

"I didn't realise you were there."

Ard gave no sign of having heard him, which unnerved and insulted Sheik at the same time.

"I don't like it when people try to sneak up on me," Sheik continued, "even less when they actually succeed. You're the only who has ever been able to do that."

Ard remained silent. The lights from the torches being lit around the camp were reflected in his eyes, the only visible features of his face. It made Sheik feel a bit naked, and he wished he had covered up the lower half of his face so that they could be on somewhat equal ground.

"Are you going to answer me?" he asked. "Or are you perhaps unable to?"

Still no response.

Sheik rolled his eyes. "Playing mysterious and being theatrical is not going to ingratiate you with me." After a few more seconds of silence, he gave up and headed for the ladder, growing weary of the silent young man. "I have no intention of playing this game with you," he said.

His foot hit the first rung of the ladder, and he made to—

"There is great evil within you, Sheikah." Ard's voice was soft, nearly child-like. It was difficult to tell if it was male or female.

"Pardon?" Sheik asked, surprised.

"We do not care how or why it came to be," Ard continued, still staring out at the camp. "Nor do we wonder why you are not taking steps to eliminate it. It is none of our business. It is your burden and your burden alone." He turned around, looking down at Sheik, his eyes frighteningly intense as they stared into Sheik's. "But if the general ever comes to harm because of your inaction or stupidity, we will _kill_ you. Lumina does not need your presence—it is neither welcomed nor approved."

They stared at each other for nearly a full minute, neither of them willing to back down. Then Sheik spoke, "I do not know what kind of information about me you have obtained, but it is faulty. If you believe that I am here to cause any harm to your precious general, you are wrong. If you think I am interested in this foolish war of yours, you are wrong. And if you think for a second that you would be able to kill me, then you are _wrong_. Speak to me like this again, and you will learn why an angry Sheikah is an enemy to fear."

He didn't even bother to climb down. He landed lightly on his feet, anger still coursing through him. _How dare he speak to me like that?_ He looked back up at the rampart, intending to fling one last threat at Ard, but he had vanished. The ramparts were empty.

 _What_ is _he?_ Sheik wondered, glancing back at the general's house. The guards didn't seem to have noticed the ice-cold exchange of words. _And what did he mean by 'we'?_

He went back inside the house, only to find the general waiting for him, her face serious. "I see you've had a little encounter with Ard," she said.

"We've had...words, yes," Sheik said, wondering what was going to happen now. "Pleasant fellow, very...intense." Sarcasm dripped from every word.

"He is like that, I'm afraid," Riveth said apologetically. "I do apologise on his behalf. Being abandoned in the woods by his parents at the age of six did not do any wonders to his social skills. Nor did nearly starving to death."

"He seems very loyal to you," Sheik said, not particularly interested in Ard's background.

"It's almost frightening, isn't it?" Riveth agreed, grinning a little. "They've both been like that after I found them and took them in nine years ago."

Sheik looked at her. "'They'?" he asked.

"He and his brother, yes," Riveth said. "You haven't met Erd yet because he is currently out gathering information for me."

"Ard and Erd?" It was almost amusing. _So that's what he meant by 'we'..._

"Yes, their parents were not particularly imaginative when it came to names, but that's what they insist on being called. Perhaps they intend to confront them one day, I don't know, they rarely speak about themselves these days."

"Is Erd the same? As hostile, I mean?" Sheik asked.

"Surprisingly, no," Riveth said. "He actually knows how to make friends, unlike his brother." She stared at Sheik for a minute. "Might I ask you a question?" she asked.

"Seeing as I am your guest, it is only proper."

"What is your interest in all this?" She gestured around her. "Ignoring all the accusations of regicide and conspiracy, why did you come here?"

"We came here because we wanted to see the world," Sheik said flatly. At the disapproving look from Riveth, he relented. "We were ordered to by Princess Zelda of Hyrule to deliver her thanks to King Robar for his help in rebuilding her kingdom after the Seven Year War. That is all."

"So...nothing else?" Riveth asked. "No scouting, no spying of any kind?"

Sheik wondered if it would be a good idea to tell her that Zelda had _also_ asked him to make sure that Robar was not planning anything fishy by sending so many soldiers to Hyrule, but decided against it. "No scouting, no spying. I'm on vacation."

Riveth chuckled. "All right, then," she said, patting him on the shoulder. "I just needed to make sure."

Someone cleared their throat in the living room, and Rial appeared in the doorway. "General, we are still in the middle of planning—"

"Yes, yes, I'm coming," Riveth said, waving a hand at her nephew. "Youngsters, always so impatient, pah!" As she followed Rial, she looked back at Sheik. "Listen, if you're willing to stick around for a week, you can accompany us as far south as you wish."

"I'm greatful, general, but I do not think—"

"It'd be much safer than travelling alone, or with the assistant, I can tell you that much," Riveth interrupted. "Good night, Master Sheikah." Rial closed the door, leaving Sheik alone in the dark entrance of the house, blinking in confusion.

_Why does everyone have to be so vague?_

* * *

"I don't know," Councillor Ise said as she looked at the papers on her desk. "I doubt Rehm would be interested in taking an assistant." She looked up at Leonard and Victor, who were sitting on the other side of her desk. "He won't appreciate the council trying to pressure him into taking one either."

The arrival of the king at her estate that morning had rattled her greatly, mostly because she had been in the bath when the knock came, but also because she was convinced that she was but a minor character to him. The fact that the king was also trying to circumvent his closest advisor was merely interesting, and she would gladly seize any chance to spite the old man.

"But he will relent if you present this to the council," Leonard said, handing her another paper. The young man had been busy the day before, looking up the laws of the kingdom, both ancient and new, looking for loopholes of any kind.

"What is this?" Ise asked, reading it.

"A vote of no confidence on account of his age," Leonard replied. "He is an old man, and old men tend to forget things and make mistakes. I don't know exactly _how_ old the councillor is, but he is clearly past whatever could be called his prime."

"Hm, true," Ise said. "He really should have retired from his position years ago, but he's been clinging to it like a barnacle. And," she took a deep breath to calm herself; hardly believing what she was about to say, "he has been doing a good job, all things considered." It nearly hurt to pay the man a compliment like that.

"That is true," Victor said, nodding. "But I fear he may be slipping, and that is why we are here today."

"Forgive me, Your Majesty," Ise said, putting the paper down, "but if this is such a concern to you, why are you not taking it up with him? He is your closest advisor and friend; surely he would appreciate hearing it from _you_ rather than the council?"

"I do not believe he would take it well," Victor said with concern. "He advised my father for so many years, and has become quite ingrained with me as well. If I were to voice my worries or, heavens forbid, downright dismiss him because I have no confidence in him...it would kill the poor man." He shook his head. "I cannot do that to him."

"I understand, Your Majesty." Ise reread the paper. "I suppose I could take it up with the rest of the council, perhaps reassure them that we are in no way sacking him..."

"That would be wonderful, councillor," said Victor, smiling warmly.

"We just need to find him an assistant, then," Ise said. "Which, I beg your pardon, will be a bloody difficult task. The possibility to learn directly from the king's own advisor, to follow his every step, to build a powerful, political career...every noble child in the kingdom will jump at such a chance. We'll have to conduct so many interviews. I'd rather not repeat my mistake with Jeryd. I hired him _specifically_ because of his common background, but that backfired right in my face..."

"Councillor, stop blaming yourself for Jeryd," Victor said. "You couldn't possibly have known."

"And we have already found a good candidate for the assistant position," Leonard said.

"And who is that?"

"Me."

"Is this a joke?" Ise said. "If you intend to mock—"

"Leonard is the best candidate, councillor," Victor said. "I've interviewed him myself, and his qualifications are superb. In fact, I must insist that you pick him." He leaned forward, looking around the room in a conspicuous manner and whispered, "Or his mother will have my head."

Ise snorted. "I do believe I have met your mother on a few occasions...rather determined, isn't she?"

"Frighteningly so, councillor," Leonard agreed.

Ise sighed and gathered up the papers she had been given by Leonard. "Very well, Your Majesty, I will raise this issue during the council meeting this afternoon. Of course, we will have to make the decision once Rehm returns, but—"

"I have already had the council recall him from his business in Urne," Victor said. "Apprehending Agon is of course a priority, but I would feel much better if I knew that he had a clever assistant at his side to deal with all the paperwork that comes with it. He should be arriving in a few hours."

"Then I shall prepare the proposal immediately, Your Majesty."

"Thank you, councillor," Victor said, standing up with Leonard. "I shall have Leonard sent to the council chambers sometime after the meeting has started. Please treat him well."

"We will, Your Majesty."

"Oh, and councillor?"

"Yes?"

"I had no part in this. This is an issue raised by the council, understand?"

"We don't want to break the man's heart," Ise said, winking. "I understand."

"Excellent."

They were shown out by a servant of Ise's and boarded the royal carriage. The horses' hooves clopped loudly on the cobbled streets.

"That was easier than I thought," Victor said as they passed one of the tallest buildings in the city. "I imagined she would be more opposed to the idea."

"That was only a token resistance," Leonard said. "Ise hates Rehm's guts. She'll grab any opportunity to get on his nerves."

"How will the rest of the council react?"

"From what I've seen and heard, less than half the council will be on Rehm's side." Leonard fished out another piece of paper from his bag, which seemed to be so full that it looked like it was about to burst. "He has not been making many friends lately," he said and handed it to Victor. It contained the names and details of every council member. Many of them were opposed to Rehm, it seemed. "If Ise proposes the vote of no confidence, they will follow her, and Rehm won't be able to say no to taking me on."

"How do you know all this?" Victor asked, amazed.

"My mother is one of the richest people in the country, hiring informers is not expensive."

"Well, give your mother my thanks when you see her next."

"I will."

Victor shot him a look. "She's still hoping that I will make you my consort, doesn't she?"

Leonard looked innocently out the carriage window. "She might have some hope, yes...or at least cementing a strong friendship with you. Anything that will make our family stronger."

Victor chuckled. "Well, if all this goes well, we'll see what happens."

* * *

**Soul Remnants  
Chapter 25**

* * *

Councillor Ise's mouth was formed into a sharp line, her face like stone. Her eyes were drilling into those of Rehm, who was standing in the middle of the council chambers and glaring at her. His face was red, his outrage over the suggestion that had just been read to him apparent. His fists were alternatively clenching and relaxing, obviously having trouble with keeping his temper under control. The pathetic attempt at a comb-over wilted from the heat that must have been radiating from the top of his head.

"Do you agree with the council's concerns, Councillor Rehm?" Ise asked. She was gripping the edge of the table in front of her, knuckles going white. The atmosphere in the room was positively electric and oppressive—it felt like she was being crushed. And all because Rehm had locked eyes with hers... When Rehm did not reply, she repeated the question. "Do you—"

"There is little point to disagreeing," Rehm said, voice shaking with rage. "As the council has already made its decision. Am I not correct, Ise? Fonte? Ominter?" He said each and every single councillor's name as he let his gaze pan over them. "We live in a democracy, after all, and if the majority has already reached an accord, I, as the minority, have little choice but to bow to your will." His hands relaxed, and some of the blood seemed to drain away from his head as he took a deep breath. "Though I should very much like to ask why you find it so prudent to saddle me with a snivelling little noble brat to hang off my robes that you call me back from my, quite frankly, urgent business in the south. I am trying to track down a murderer, ladies and gentlemen, and you seem to be doing your very best to hinder me in my task."

"The importance and urgency of your task is the very reason that you need an assistant, Rehm," said councillor Fonte with a voice that he must have thought came off as kindly, but to the rest of the room just sounded condescending, including Rehm. "You are travelling over vast distances and interviewing hundreds of men and women every day in an attempt to track down that traitor General Agon. I cannot even begin to imagine how much information you need to store and process every single time you attempt to pin down his location. While I and the rest of the council appreciate your efforts, surely you realise that it is simply too much for one man to handle?"

"My mind is as keen as it was when I had just turned twenty, Fonte," Rehm said, glaring at him. "Unlike yours, which seems to be barely functioning when it comes to the council treasury. Did you know, for example, that a minute trickle of a sum has been disappearing from it every week for the past ten years? As the treasurer, surely you have a reason for not plugging this leak and finding the culprit?"

Fonte's mouth shut so quickly that his teeth clacked together. Ise directed a glare at him, having not known about the disappearing money.

"And what about you, LaMonde?" Rehm continued. "Can you explain why a number of prisoners seem to have simply vanished from His Majesty's dungeons over the years? We were never told of any escapes—attempts or successful...well, apart from that rather huge blunder a few months ago, of course. Money is easy to lose track of, true, but human beings, councillor?" Rehm raised an eyebrow. "They are significantly larger than a gold coin, aren't they?"

He grinned, which put Ise's teeth on edge—the bastard was _enjoying_ this!

"And as for you, Councillor Ominter—"

"Yes, yes, we all make mistakes in the line of duty," Ise interrupted. "We are only human—it is in our nature!"

"Except I know for a _fact_ that I have never made a mistake, councillor," Rehm said slyly. "Look at my records, my reports, my history...not a single mistake there. I have nothing to hide, though you are welcome to try and find something, _anything_ that is less than perfect." He crossed his arms. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say _you_ are the ones in need of assistants...though in Ise's case, that turned out to be a bit of a _mistake_ , didn't it?"

The temperature in the room seemed to drop several degrees as Ise and Rehm locked gazes once again. "I have said it before and I will gladly repeat it," she said slowly. "I take full responsibility for Jeryd's betrayal. I trusted him and shared confidential information with him, which he then used to commit illegal acts against the throne. It was my fault, and I would not have it any other way. But as I recall, the council forgave me for my failure, as did the king, so bringing it up is not going to help your case." Silence reigned in the chambers for a few moments before she spoke again, "May I ask you a question, Rehm?"

"We live in a free country, Ise."

Ise chuckled—first time she had ever heard something like that. It'd never catch on. "If you knew about the vanishing money and disappearing prisoners, why did you not alert anyone about it? Why did you not take it up with the council?"

"I did, just now," Rehm said, smiling like a little brat. "I've just had more... _pressing_ matters to deal with. And I assumed the other councillors were on top of their assignments. I suppose I was wrong, and I deeply apologise for not voicing my concern."

The looks that were sent around the circular table were not happy ones.

"So, my fellow council members," Rehm said, "I assume this little matter has been settled, then." He turned around and was about to head for the door when Ise spoke up.

"Yes, it is, Rehm. You are getting an assistant. Period. End of sentence."

Rehm's face froze in a horrible grimace. "Perhaps you did not understand my intention with what I said a few minutes ago, Ise, I—"

"I am _perfectly_ aware of what you intended, Rehm," Ise said, her voice like...well, ice. "But pointing out the mistakes of others does not vindicate you from ones you might make yourself because you're too stubborn to realise you're getting older. You are getting an assistant, and that is the end of it. Like it or not, it is happening!"

"You are getting on my nerves, Ise," Rehm said quietly, his eyes seemingly growing dark. "And that is a huge mistake."

"Is that a threat, councillor?" Ise said, suddenly feeling short of breath. It was like someone was gripping her throat and slowly crushing it. The other council members seemed to feel the same judging by the way they were opening their shirt collars and untying scarves. "Is that a threat?" she repeated, discreetly trying to clear her throat.

"Certainly not," Rehm said. "Just a friendly warning." He sighed, shaking his head. "But I can see that I will not be able to change your minds about this. Very well, I accept the council's decision."

All at once, the oppressive atmosphere in the chambers seemed to be lifted, and the crushing sensation around Ise's throat disappeared. Everyone breathed out in relief, though some tried to be subtle about it. Ise took a sip of water from her cup to calm herself. She hadn't expected this. She'd always known that Rehm could be terrifying when he was angry, but this...this was something else entirely. It had honestly felt like he was going to kill everyone around the table.

"So!" Rehm shouted and clapped his hands together loudly. "When do I get to meet this young and aspiring politician, then?" The grin on his face was huge, but everyone could see that it was just a mask. The man was absolutely furious, but they'd come this far...

"Right now, in fact," Ise said, refusing to let herself be intimidated by the ancient fossil. She turned her head to the door to her right and called, "You can come in now!"

Leonard stepped inside the chambers, wearing his finest clothes and a look of eagerness. Ise was impressed at his ability to cover up his nervousness. She couldn't help but pity the lad for willingly putting himself in this position, however, and she hoped to the gods that he had thought this through well enough and that whatever little scheme he and the king had come up was good foolproof enough.

Ise wasn't stupid. She could see that something was going on between His Majesty and Rehm, but she struggled with finding out what. A power struggle, perhaps? She failed to see the issue, though. The king had little to do with the everyday running of the kingdom—he only got involved with the important issues, and Rehm always stepped aside gladly when they came up. Nevertheless, she felt that a time was approaching where she would have to pick a side—though that was, as her father had once said, a no-brainer. She was a loyalist, through and through, and the fact that she despised Rehm to the point where she wished his skin would melt off only helped to cement her position, not to mention her goal: to put as many spokes in that bastard's wheel as humanly possible. All in all, if blows came to blows, she knew exactly who she'd direct her punches at.

"May I introduce Leonard Denal of Turreryn," she said, rising from her chair and patting Leonard on the shoulder. "I'm sure you recognise the name—"

"Ah, yes, I know his mother quite well," Rehm said, striding around the table with an outstretched hand, seizing the teenager's and squeezing quite hard—if Leonard's subtle grimace could be trusted. "Though I do not believe I've had the pleasure of meeting her progeny. Good to meet you, lad. How is your mother, the good Baroness Denal?"

"She is fine, sir," Leonard replied politely. "She sends her love and heartfelt wishes of luck with catching General Agon."

"Ah, a beautiful sentiment," Rehm said, still smiling. "And not entirely out of place, as I recall her giving me the winky eyes during the festival, ha ha ha!"

The laughter made everyone in the room uncomfortable.

"I have but one question I would like to ask you, Leonard," Rehm continued, "if I may."

"Certainly, sir," Leonard said.

"Why would a young man like you, handsome and obviously bright as you are, want to work for me, a man who is more likely to be six feet under than standing a year from now?"

Leonard appeared unable to contain a grin. "Sir, I have always wished to break into the world of politics, and who better to learn from than you? You have been an integral asset to this kingdom for the better part of a century—your wisdom, experience and tenacity is envied by all aspiring nobles in the land, and I was not about to let an opportunity to learn directly from you get away from me. I have fought my way through the applicants and now stand before you, eager and ready to soak up anything and everything you can teach me!"

Rehm raised an eyebrow. "Passionate little bugger, aren't you?"

"I have been told I care too much about politics, sir," Leonard said.

"There is no such thing as 'caring too much' when it comes to politics, I've always said," Rehm proclaimed and shook the young man's hand again. "I like you, Leonard of Turreryn, and I shall be looking forward to working with you."

"And I you, sir."

"Well, I suppose I should let the young man go and pack his belongings—"Rehm began.

"Already done, sir," Leonard interrupted, blushing appropriately when he realised he'd interrupted him. Ise was impressed by his acting. "Sorry, sir."

"Already?" Rehm asked, confused.

"We took the liberty of sending his belongings to _The Chimera_ when you arrived, Rehm," Ise said, taking great pleasure in stumping the man. "The captain has even prepared a cabin for him, right next to yours."

"That was nice of him," Rehm said neutrally. "Well then, I suppose we must be off immediately—traitors to catch and all. Have you said your goodbyes?"

"Yes, sir," Leonard nodded eagerly. "Did so a few hours ago."

"Good, good, excellent," Rehm said. "Time to leave, then." He put a hand on Leonard's back and led him towards the door that would lead to the hallways connected to airship's landing pad. "Councillors," he said, nodding.

The councillors would never admit it, but they felt immense relief after Rehm was gone. As the meeting came to a conclusion and they all left (some with heavy workloads concerning disappearing miscellanea weighing on their shoulders), Ise remained at her seat, staring at the door Rehm and Leonard had left through. After a few minutes of silent contemplation, she opened the hidden drawer under the table and withdrew a flask containing very strong liquor. She poured it into her cup, mixing it with the water and took a sip. She felt the warmth returning to her limbs as the drink burned its way down her throat.

Something is definitely going on here, she thought. I wonder how I can help...

* * *

Link awoke to an incredible racket outside the house. He was completely disoriented for a few seconds, wondering where the hell he was, but upon spotting the sleeping form of Elenwe in the other bed, he remembered and relaxed. He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and looked around the room, noticing that Kafei was nowhere to be seen. A chilly breeze was wafting into the room from the open window on the opposite wall, where the noise was also pouring in. It sounded like hundreds of voices all trying to drown each other out. Every now and then, there came a loud **TWANG** -like sound, definitely from a stringed instrument whose owner was running out of patience.

Throwing his tunic on, he headed over to the window and leaned out of it, trying to spot the source of the noise. A large group of men and women were gathered further down the street, pushing and shoving each other in what seemed to be an attempt to get a good look at whatever they were arguing about. Link heard another twanging sound. It was coming from his left.

"About time you woke up," Kafei said. "It's gone past noon." He was sitting on the slanted roof of the house, hood securely drawn up to obscure his face and running his fingers along the strings of a lyre. Or, it looked like a lyre, but it was bigger than Sheik's. "Though I suppose you needed the rest—both of you."

"Do you mind?" Link asked, gesturing at the roof. Kafei shrugged, which Link took as a positive answer and climbed out of the window, sitting down next to the Sheikah. "What's all the racket about?"

"No idea," Kafei replied. "Some thief or another. Probably discussing what to do with him."

"Huh..."

"I was hoping for some peace and quiet to practice my music, but the chances of that seem exceedingly slim." Kafei sighed. "Then again, what was I hoping for in a town of criminals?"

"Beats me," Link said, eyeing the instrument in his hands. It was simple and undecorated, much like Sheik's. "Didn't know you played the lyre," he said, trying to make conversation.

"I rarely do these days," Kafei replied. "I only recently acquired this one, in fact. I haven't played since...since the day I left Hyrule. Even left my old one for Sheik. He probably smashed it the second he saw it. I wouldn't blame him if he did..."

Link looked at his bare feet, unable to come up with anything else to say. He felt really uncomfortable around Kafei, for obvious reasons, but there was also something about the older man that just seemed so...untrustworthy.

"You still don't trust me," Kafei stated after a while. "That is good."

"How so?" Link asked. "I thought you'd want me on your side as fast as possible."

"Preferably, yes," Kafei nodded. "But I'd be disappointed if you trusted me not to stab you in the back after a single night. It's a healthy attitude. The world has no need for a champion without a sense of scrutiny."

"The world?" Link asked.

"You are the Goddesses' chosen one, are you not?" Kafei said without a hint of irony in his voice. "Just because the larger part of the world outside Hyrule holds no belief in them does not mean that you don't fight on their behalf as well. You saved the world when you killed Ganondorf and reunited the pieces of the Triforce. Your deeds will go mostly unnoticed, of course, but it does not change the fact that they owe their lives and freedom to _you_." He turned his head to look at Link. "This thought never occurred to you, Hero? Good grief..."

Link looked up at that. "Sheik says that a lot too..."

Kafei made a sound that struck Link as halfway between a snort and a pleased chuckle. "That doesn't surprise me. We were inseparable for a while, and I daresay that's not the only thing of mine he copied..."

"What happened?" Link asked.

"Pardon?"

"Between you two?" Link stared into Kafei's eyes under the hood. "I know Sheik hates you for leaving, but from the way you talk it's like you were best friends. Family, even."

"Well, we _are_ family," Kafei stated calmly.

"Really?"

"Distant cousins, I'd say. Thrice removed, or something, I'm not sure. I never asked Impa—I didn't need to. They were the only family I had left anyway."

"So...?"

"You recall me saying Sheik left his mark on me, correct? Well, the story behind it isn't long, but I suppose it wouldn't do any harm to regale you with it." Kafei drew a breath, paused, and lay back on the roof tiles. The skies were overcast, but the daylight still revealed his face fully to Link. The entire left side of it was a mess of scars and burns.

"Sheik didn't do...all that, did he?" Link asked, fearing the answer. He remembered how out of control Sheik had been in the Shadow Temple when they had found Tao.

"Some of it, but not all of it, no," Kafei replied. "The reasons for my desire to leave the Sheikah I have already said, but do not underestimate my agonising over the decision, Hero. It took me months before I finally worked up to the courage to go through with my plan. I couldn't tell Impa—she'd either kill me or have me imprisoned the second she realised what I was talking about. I wasn't entirely sure about Sheik either, and so I decided to tell him the night I was set to go. We had just finished sparring, and we were washing ourselves as I told him about my doubts of the Sheikah's future and why it would be a good idea to leave it all behind while we still had a chance. Sheik didn't understand, of course, because he was still being indoctrinated by Impa."

He adjusted his position on the roof, still staring up at the sky.

"I suppose I should have seen it coming, but I was still young and naïve back then. Sheik had always looked up to me, and I assumed he would listen...but a certain princess was a much stronger influence, and he said no. He said that the young Zelda would need a protector as she grew up, and he would gladly die for her. I laughed at him then—the biggest mistake I have ever made. He got angry and began to quote our laws and tenets—all of them verbatim. Impa never took any chances when it came to him and made sure that he would be the perfect Sheikah..."

"What happened then?" Link asked, fascinated by the story. He knew so little about Sheik's past, and this was helping him put the puzzle together.

"I made my peace with the fact that if I was to leave, it would be on my own. So I convinced him that I had changed my mind and that Impa did not need to know about our little exchange. He seemed to accept it, and so we went to our rooms, saying our goodnights. I had no intention of staying, of course, and gathered my belongings after a few hours when I was certain both he and Impa were asleep. I stepped outside and made my way towards the courtyard."

Kafei suddenly chuckled and grinned. "Little did I know that Sheik, clever little scamp that he was, had seen right through me and was waiting for me. He had sent away the guards so that we were the only ones there. He gave me an ultimatum—stay and confess to Impa, or try to leave and be killed by him."

"Sounds like Sheik, all right," Link said, not liking the sound of this.

"He was just spouting off the code of honour, which he honestly tried to live by—admirable but foolish, in my opinion," Kafei continued. "You can probably imagine my choice."

"You tried to leave."

"Of course. I didn't think Sheik would pose much of a challenge, and I certainly didn't expect him to actually try to kill me." Kafei grinned again. "He had even brought deku seeds."

"And then?"

"What do you think? I tried to go past him, he stood in my way, I tried to go around him, and he moved and blocked me. Finally, I'd had enough and shoved him aside, at which point he pulled a dagger on me and nicked my hand. That's when I knew he wasn't joking or being childish. The fight didn't last long—mere minutes, I think, but it was damn ferocious. He fought like a wildcat—I'd never seen him like that before. But raw passion couldn't make up for the experience I possessed, and I finally managed to disarm him. I then shoved him to the ground and warned him not to get up again. I turned my back on him and headed for the gates, but that only gave him enough time to grab a burning torch off the wall and get in my way again."

Link could see where this was going and groaned.

"Stubbornness has always been a trait of our people," Kafei said. "And none displayed it more proudly than Sheik. I gave him one warning and then tried to shove him again. No dice. He jumped and kicked my chest, after which he proceeded to shove the torch into my face."

Link gasped. He didn't think Sheik was capable of such acts, even at that age. "And then?"

"I got angry, of course," Kafei said, touching his cheek. "And I used Sheik's own dagger on him. I only intended to cut him a little, as a sort of revenge—I couldn't bring myself to kill him. But he twisted in the air, and what was supposed to be a cut turned into a stab. Right below his heart." He shook his head and shuddered. "I can still see him, you know, lying in front of me, bleeding and gasping for breath. I knew there was no way back now—if I came clean, I'd be killed. So I raised the alarm in order to get help for Sheik and then ran away. I behaved like an extraordinary coward."

"So...you stabbed him and left him for dead," Link said with distaste.

"It wasn't on purpose!" Kafei said forcefully. "If he hadn't moved, he would have gotten away with a few drops of blood missing and that's it..."

The ruckus down the street seemed to be dying down now, and the people were dispersing. It was impossible not to notice the blood stains on the ground where they'd stood. It appeared that the people had finally decided what to do with the thief. Then they both heard footsteps from within the upstairs bedroom, indicating that Elenwe had woken up as well.

"Where did you go?" Link asked. "After you left Hyrule."

"I headed for Termina," Kafei answered. "Had a few misadventures along the way, tried to keep an eye on Sheik—I was immensely relieved when I learned that he had made a full recovery. I contemplated sending him a letter, but I had a feeling that would only make things worse—and perhaps I figured that it was for the best that Sheik hated me. Back then he only saw the world in black and white, and I didn't want to confuse him by adding grey with my decision to leave."

The smell of cooking bacon began to fill the air, and Link felt his stomach give a lurch of hunger. Kafei seemed to have similar thoughts.

"What happened after I arrived in Termina is a story best saved for another time, I think, for all I can think about right now is lunch—or breakfast, in your case."

Link agreed, but knew that he would be pestering the purple-haired man for more information very soon...but there was one thing that still bothered him, and he was going to get an answer right now. "What's with your hair?" he asked.

"Excuse me?" Kafei replied, clearly surprised.

"Your hair is purple," Link said.

"Your observation skills are truly _astounding_ Hero, how do you do it?" Kafei said sarcastically. "Yes, my hair is purple."

"Why?" Link said, so used to such jibes from Sheik that he hardly noticed this one. "Sheik said that all Sheikah are blonde..."

"Hence why mine is purple," Kafei said. "Dying one's hair isn't exactly unheard of... It helps to throw off pursuers and harassers. With my hood covering my ears and red eyes...well, no one knows who or what I am." He looked at Link. "And before you say it, yes, I know the hood makes me look suspicious, but it's better to look suspicious than to be regarded as a murderer from the get-go."

"Fair enough," Link said, shrugging even though he failed to see the difference between the two.

"Are you two going to be doing any more male bonding, or are you actually going to come inside and eat before the bacon burns?" Elenwe said, poking her head out of the window. "And your hair looks stupid, Kafei," she added before disappearing back inside.

Kafei grimaced. "And she wonders why I am so brutally honest with her?" He shook his head and stood up. "She has a point, though. I'm ravenous."

Link smiled. Now there was something he could agree with.

* * *

**Soul Remnants  
Chapter 26**

* * *

Sheik had never seen such a tense and strained atmosphere as the one that was filling the fortress three days after his encounter with Ard. The usually cheery and frivolous conversations and comments between the soldiers seemed to have been killed stone dead, most of the men and women milling about in silence, casting glances towards the entrance to the dried lakebed, as if they were waiting for the heralds of the apocalypse themselves to appear on the edge with the fires of hell licking at their backs. The blacksmiths and engineers were biting each other's heads off over a seemingly insignificant accident in the forge, and Riveth's breakfast had been burned quite badly by the cook, who seemed to walk around with an inner tension equivalent to a tightly coiled spring, just waiting to unleash mayhem upon anyone who happened to be in the same room as her.

After finishing his morning training routine, Sheik had finished his message to Zelda and sent Kaiza on her way. He had meant to send it earlier, but he had found it difficult to thoroughly sum up the situation unfolding in Lumina without making Kaiza's burden too heavy for her to bear. He'd finally resorted to drastically cutting down the lengths of his sentences by removing certain pronouns and such. The end result was a letter that, while explaining quite clearly what was going on, appeared to have been written by someone with a very loose grasp on basic grammar and an extremely limited vocabulary. He could only hope that Zelda wouldn't lambast him for turning his back on the concept of language.

As he watched Kaiza's form disappear high in the skies, he became aware of someone staring at him from behind. He turned his head and saw Ard standing in the doorway to Riveth's headquarters, glaring at him. Sheik felt his temper rise, remembering the rude words the boy had spoken to him three days ago, and met the glare with one of his own, honed by many years of practice. After standing there for several minutes, Ard finally broke his gaze and retreated inside, leaving Sheik feeling triumphant.

 _Nothing clever to say?_ he thought. _What a pity..._

He heard laughter and spotted Angen approaching the building. He was walking alongside a thick-set woman wearing a doctor's white uniform, though she also had a wicked-looking sword in her belt, on the hilt of which she rested her hand. She seemed to be older than Angen, but not by much, a few years at the most. Her hair was a dark brown colour, quite similar to Angen's, and was tied back in a loose ponytail, though a few messy bangs had escaped from it and were dangling in her face, much to her annoyance judging by the way she kept trying to blow them away and tucking them behind her ears. He caught a snippet of their conversation as they approached.

"...turned around and punched the other one right in the face—by accident! He meant to hit me!" Angen finished, his deep voice turning into a rumbling laugh.

The woman burst into laughter as well, slapping Angen on the back, her bicep straining against the fabric of her uniform. "Bah, I wish I'd been there!" she said upon regaining her breath. "Sounds like you needed someone to handle rowdy customers."

Sheik stood staring at them, the only two people who didn't feel the ambient pressure in the camp. Or perhaps they didn't care? Angen noticed him and nodded. "Well, if it isn't the boy responsible for the burning of my inn?" he said and grinned, showing Sheik that he was joking. He gestured towards the woman. "May I introduce my dear, esteemed and quite fearsome mentor Doctor Agneta?"

Sheik shook her hand and introduced himself. It was a very firm handshake. He almost felt lucky upon getting his hand back without any broken bones, in fact. What had appeared to be fat turned out to be pure muscle now that Sheik saw her up close. She had very intense eyes—appearing nearly purple in the light of day.

"A pleasure to meet the one accused of everything that's gone wrong in this kingdom in the past thirty years," Agneta said, grinning. "Can't say I'm impressed, though—you're a scrawny little thing, ain't ya?"

"It has been...pointed out to me that I could do with gaining a little weight, yes," Sheik said, not comfortable with having a stranger making fun of his severe lack of corpulence. "I cannot say that I am used to doctors carrying swords around. You do not trust a scalpel to do the job?"

"And he's got a sense of humour too, how adorable!" Agneta exclaimed. She leaned in close, tapping the hilt of her sword with her hand. "Nah, I keep this close to deal with annoying little pests—whether we're on the battlefield or not." She straightened up, grinning. "I'm a field surgeon, kid, and we're always facing the danger of coming under attack in the middle of surgery—that's what Emma here is for."

"Emma?" Sheik said.

"Don't ask," Angen said, shaking his head viciously. "You don't want to know."

"Pfft, you boys are always so squeamish," Agneta said, rolling her eyes.

"So, you were Angen's teacher?" Sheik asked, hoping to change the subject.

"Teacher, mentor, older sister, you name it," Agneta said, slamming Angen on the back with a fist, causing him to cough. "Taught the little bastard everything he knows, didn't I?"

Sheik had difficulties with using the word "little" in conjunction with Angen in general. He supposed he could see _some_ family resemblance there, at least in stature, but not a lot else. _Is everyone related to everyone around here?_ he wondered.

" _Adopted_ sister," Angen corrected after regaining his breathing, glaring at her. "And you didn't teach me _everything_ I know."

"Fine, everything you know about _medicine_ , then," she said, sighing. "You always get hung up on the little details, don't you?"

"It's what a medic is supposed to do, isn't it?"

"Not if it ends up killing the patient."

"Oh for fu—"

"Anyway, would you look at the time, need to get back to my patients, toodle-loo!" With that Agneta sprinted back the way they had come, cackling madly, leaving Angen to curse at her retreating back.

"That was...interesting," Sheik said after a few seconds.

"She's insane," Angen said flatly. "Didn't even expect to find her up here. She was never part of Riveth's unit, but when they were exiled she apparently thought it'd be a jolly good time to tag along. I haven't heard from her in years..."

"Must be good to see her again, then," Sheik said neutrally.

"Not really, no," he replied. "I can never stand being around her for more than a few hours at a time—imagine being stuck with her for days as she berates you for getting doses of medicine _slightly_ wrong and screwing up when trying to sew a wound shut."

"One would usually hope for a wound to be stitched correctly..."

"It was my first time! She said she practically gave up on me there and then." He shook his head and turned to Sheik. "Anyway, it's not her fault— _her_ teacher was practically insane herself. Apparently she once threatened to castrate each and every one of her patients if they didn't do as she said—even the female ones!"

Sheik paused, feeling the eerie sense of recognition creeping up on him. "This...teacher of hers," he said slowly. "She wouldn't happen to be from Termina, would she?"

Angen grimaced. "How'd you know?" he asked.

"Just a guess," Sheik said. "I think I've met her."

"I pity anyone who has."

There was no sun today. A thick layer of clouds hung far above them, some of them dark and threatening to burst apart and shower them with icy cold precipitation.

"It's quiet today," Sheik said suddenly.

"Aye," Angen said, nodding. "You feel it too, eh? The tension could be cut with a knife."

"It's like they're waiting for something," Sheik said.

"They are," Angen said. Upon seeing Sheik's questioning glance, he elaborated: "One of Riveth's scouts has spotted a group of lightly armoured soldiers bearing General Agon's banner and insignia making their way here."

"Attacking?" Sheik asked.

"It'd be suicide attacking this place with only twelve men, despite how vulnerable the 'fortress' is," Angen replied. "Most likely they come bearing a message for her to stand down and surrender her army. Someone's trying to take over the kingdom peacefully, it seems."

"Do they expect her to? Surrender, I mean."

"Who?"

"The men."

"Hers or Agon's?"

"Both."

Angen sighed. "Agon's men are most likely _hoping_ _for_ but not _expecting_ surrender," he said. "Riveth's men...well, I can only assume that they're hoping for and expecting the opposite."

"And you?" Sheik asked.

Angen took a deep breath, thought about it for a second, and answered, "I've known Riveth for a long time, and if there's one thing I've learned about her, it's that she rarely gives up. And if she does, it's on _her_ terms. When she took an arrow to the shoulder during the civil war and I tried to patch her up, I had to have three men restrain her while I attended to the wound—she was desperately trying to get back into the fight. She also hates Agon with a passion because of some unfortunate party incident when she was still a junior officer."

"So...?"

"She won't take kindly to the orders," Angen said. "She'll want to fight. But she also knows that her army is vastly outnumbered by Agon's. To go up against him would be suicide. She won't throw her men's lives away for a lost cause." He thought again for a few seconds. "I think she will do the right thing."

"I see," Sheik said, nodding. "I suppose I should leave the camp as soon as possible, then."

"What, why?"

"Think about it—Agon is probably on his way here to disarm Riveth and her men. The twelve that are currently on their way are just a vanguard to ensure that there's no surprise. And perhaps the process will go smoothly and peacefully—but if they see Riveth harbouring me, the most wanted fugitive in the entire kingdom...do you really expect things to go well?"

Angen looked ready to protest, but conceded with a shake of his head. "I suppose not...though I'm pretty sure she would do her utmost to protect you."

"It's not _my_ safety I'm worried about," Sheik said. "Anyway, I need to go pack my belongings and be on my way. Thank you for your assistance. I owe you my life—and I shall find a way to repay it as soon as I can."

"No thanks or debts needed—you escorted me here, and that's more than enough," the large man responded.

"Your magnanimity does you credit," Sheik said, "but I shall still find a way to settle the supposedly non-existent debt I owe you."

"You never give up, do you?" Angen asked.

"It is not in my nature," Sheik admitted.

"Very well, I will look forward to the day the debt is settled, my lord Sheikah." He held out a hand, smiling. "Good luck on your journeys—and I hope you find your Hero soon."

Sheik shook Angen's hand, smiling, and went back inside Riveth's headquarters, ascending to the second floor and entering the room he shared with Jeryd—who was currently snoring quite loudly in his bed. Sheik kicked the frame, jerking the older man out of his blissful sleep.

"I'm leaving," he said firmly to the bleary-eyed Jeryd. "Pack your things and meet me outside in five minutes if you wish to join me."

To Jeryd's credit, it took less than five seconds for the haze of sleep to disappear from his eyes and the sharpness of his mind to return. "Something's wrong," he stated.

"Not as such," Sheik said, retrieving his pack from underneath his bed. There was not much in it. His clothes had been laundered, his daggers cleaned and sharpened...and that was it, really. He'd lost everything else either as he fell into the river or when Angen's inn had been burned. Even his lyre. _His_ lyre. All he really needed was food and water. "General Agon's men are approaching, and I believe it is in our best interests to be well away from here when they arrive." He glanced over at Jeryd, realising that the young man did not have much in the way of possessions either.

"Agon," Jeryd said, the name apparently leaving a foul taste in his mouth—which wasn't strange, all things considered. "Have to say that 'flee' isn't my first instinct when it comes to him..."

"It's not the man himself that's coming," Sheik said as he tied a dagger holster around his thigh. He had a feeling he'd need them very soon. "Only twelve of his men. They are probably here to demand Riveth's surrender before she can become a problem."

"Hah, that'll be the day!"

"You don't think she will lay down her arms?"

"She'll certainly lay them down...after having stuck them through Agon's fat gut." Jeryd smiled, obviously enjoying the mental image. "Wish I could be there to see it."

"Well, we won't," Sheik said flatly, crushing Jeryd's daydreaming. "I've no intention of getting more involved in this war than I already am." The human opened his mouth, but Sheik interrupted him with an index finger raised in warning. "And I realise I _may_ have escalated a few things by my mere presence, but it was not intentional, so there!"

Jeryd surrendered and continued packing his own things. Sheik located a big roll of bandages, thought for a few seconds, and then went about making himself an improvised mask to cover the lower half of his face. He'd gone far too long with everyone being able to see what he looked like lately, and had decided that enough was enough. He really wished he had his tabard with the cowl, but that too had been lost in the river, much to his chagrin.

They were exiting the house when a loud droning sound could be heard in the distance. The activity in the camp, which seemed to have been on the backburner so far, was suddenly kicked up ten notches as all the tension in the men and women was released as they sprang into action, equipping their armour and weapons in a matter of seconds, all of them forming into orderly lines and formations just before a group of soldiers bearing the blue banner of General Agon appeared on the edge of the lakebed.

"Ah, great, here we go," said a weary-sounding General Riveth as she emerged from the house behind Sheik and Jeryd. She spotted them and nodded. "Gentlemen," she said before striding beyond the palisades, not about to let Agon's men into her inner sanctum, apparently. She was wearing her finest armour; she carried her helmet carried under one arm while the other rested on the pommel of her sword, which managed to gleam despite there being no sunlight to speak of. Rial emerged from the house soon after, nodded wordlessly to the two assassins and followed his aunt in silence. Angen was nowhere to be seen, though Sheik had a feeling he was with his half-sister somewhere.

"Looks like the fate of Lumina is about to be decided," Jeryd said quietly. "Or, rather, if there's going to be a devastating civil war or not."

"A historic moment, to be sure," Sheik said, his voice slightly muffled by his new mask.

"Indeed," Jeryd said, bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet. "Something to tell one's children and grandchildren..."

"You want to go and watch, don't you?" Sheik asked. His breath heated the mask uncomfortably, he noticed. That was going to be...annoying.

"Can we?" Jeryd asked, eager like a child.

"Sometimes you disturb me," Sheik said. "But fine, we can watch, but let's stay out of sight, yes?"

"Fine with me!" Jeryd exclaimed and legged it in the direction Rial and Riveth had gone in, leaving Sheik to trail slowly behind, wondering how it had come to this.

The men Agon had sent were not impressive by any means. They looked tired, their uniforms were filthy and they had clearly not been eating right judging by the ravenous looks in their eyes. The fact that Riveth's men had been in the middle of breakfast probably didn't help matters. It was obvious that they'd been travelling for days with little to no rest, though Sheik wondered if it was just to deliver the message or something else.

Riveth's men lined up and formed a corridor for the new arrivals to march down, with Riveth and Rial waiting at the end of it, their expressions grim and severe. They were flanked by several of the general's personal bodyguard, a collection of the most grizzled and battle-hardened soldiers Sheik had ever seen. They seemed to scowl at everything and everyone, surely to discourage any kind of disrespect towards their beloved leader.

Sheik and Jeryd positioned themselves quite a distance away from Riveth and Rial, trying to blend in among the soldiers to avoid being spotted—though Sheik's idea of his presence provoking Agon's men and his plan to avoid such a thing were moot since Rial stood right next to his aunt.

The twelve weary men paused a slight distance away from Riveth, saluting tiredly. Their leather armour had seen much better days. One of the men, obviously the leader stepped forward and saluted again, which Riveth acknowledged with one of her own.

"General Riveth!" the man exclaimed. "It is an honour to finally meet such an infamous and illustrious personality as yourself!" He was young—they all were.

"Illustrious? Hardly," Riveth said, her voice quite neutral. "And infamous? More notorious, I'd say. And who do I have the pleasure of addressing?"

"Corporal Michel of His Majesty's Royal Army, 8th infantry group, ma'am!"

"At ease then, corporal," Riveth said. "You have come a long way, and your party seems exhausted."

The soldiers relaxed gratefully. "We come bearing a message from His Royal Highness the King Victor," Michel said, withdrawing a sealed scroll from his pocket. "We have travelled day and night with no food and no sleep for over a week, ma'am!"

Riveth made a sound that was either a snort of derision or a hum of admiration. "Must be quite an important message, then," she said. "Very well, I shall hear it." Michel made to hand it to her, but she stopped him with a look. "No, corporal, I believe it would be best if you read it aloud."

"But your men—"Michel tried.

"There are no secrets between my troops and I," Riveth said, raising her voice so that everyone could hear. "I trust them with my life, and they, hopefully, trust me with theirs. All that is mine is theirs, and vice-versa, and that includes any and all correspondence with the rest of the kingdom, which they have apparently been denied this past decade. It is a bond forged in the heat of battle, based upon mutual trust and respect. I could not in good conscience keep information from them. So, corporal, I invite you to play the role of orator today, if you please..."

Michel looked hesitant, but obeyed and broke the royal seal and unrolled the scroll. He made a few false starts, his voice betraying him by cracking. The poor man was practically shaking with either fear or fatigue—Sheik guessed a mixture of both.

"By the command of His Majesty the King, General Drena Riveth is hereby ordered to stand down and disband the 4th Batallion of His Royal Army! No man or woman who was once part of the 4th Batallion shall ever be allowed to bear arms again! They are to return to their homes and never again trouble His Majesty! The good general is then to lay down her arms and surrender herself into the custody of the first officer of equal rank she meets! She will then be taken to the Capital to be tried and sentenced for her treason ten years ago! His Majesty has seen fit to finish the ugly business that his father, alas, was too weak to see through! Signed, His Majesty The King of Lumina!"

The tension was returning among Riveth's men, and an unmistakeable atmosphere of anger was building up. It was mostly directed towards Agon's men, who were obviously picking up on it and subconsciously drew closer together, their hands close to their weapons.

Riveth stood staring at the terrified Michel for a good minute before she drew a deep breath, opened her mouth and said, "No."

Michel looked confused. "General?"

"I said no. Is that so hard to understand, despite your exhausted state?" Riveth said. "In that case, I shall spell it out for you: I, General Drena Riveth, reject those orders. That means I will not follow them."

"But...but the king—"

"I do not believe it was the king who dictated these orders, in fact," Riveth continued. "Based upon testimonials from several wrongly accused traitors, I am under the strong impression that control of this kingdom has been wrested quite forcefully out of his hand by one of his most trusted advisors and a circle of conspirators, of which I strongly imagine General Agon is a member. It would not surprise me, in fact, if _he_ was the author behind these empty words. That, my dear corporal, is why I will not obey these orders."

"You...you believed the _traitors_?" Michel asked, fear turning into anger, spitting out the last word. He spotted Rial, apparently just now recognising him. "That man tried to assassinate the king! He should be arrested!"

"Oh, I would if I didn't risk bringing the rage of his family down upon me," Riveth said. "Oh, and I don't think he did anything wrong—that might be a factor as to why he is still enjoying his relative freedom as well." All of this was said in a deadpan voice that could have rivalled Impa's at her worst.

"This is an outrage!" Michel exclaimed, using his anger to temporarily restore his energy. "You will make traitors of all your men?"

"As far as they are concerned, they were made so the second we were deployed here, corporal," Riveth replied calmly. "For ten years they have suffered in this hellhole, ignored by their friends and families, by their king, and just _now_ they are officially being named traitors?"

Murmurs of agreement went through the gathered soldiers. Sheik and Jeryd were pushed forward as the people behind them wanted to see what was happening up close. Suddenly, the crowd opened just in front of them, and they stumbled forward, suddenly in full view of Michel, who immediately reacted.

"More traitors!" he exclaimed. "Those two assassinated the old king! And you harbour _them_ as well?"

"What can I say, I like taking in strays," Riveth said good-naturedly. "So, there you have it, corporal. I reject the orders you bring me, and I must insist that you leave immediately to tell your masters."

"We are not leaving without your full and unconditional surrender," Michel said through clenched teeth. He held out a hand, letting the orders drop to the ground. "Give me your sword, general."

"I think not, corporal, and if I were you I'd be very careful about making demands here."

"Your sword, general," Michel insisted. The rest of his party was absolutely terrified now, the men huddling together under the glares from Riveth's men. Sheik had to give credit where it was due—Michel was truly admirable in his ability to ignore his own trembling voice.

"No, corporal," said Riveth. "I am trying to be kind here, but my patience has its limits."

A staring contest ensued between the general and the corporal. It did not last for long, and Michel broke Riveth's gaze, looking at the ground. "Fine," he said quietly. "You are bringing doom upon yourself and your men, but fine! Let's see how high and mighty you are after General Agon crushes your pathetic army!" He turned to his party. "Men, we are moving out! But...not without the traitors," he added, looking at Rial, Jeryd and Sheik. "Men of the Eighth, arrest them!"

Michel and his men men drew their swords and began to move towards their targets, but then Riveth whistled, at which point every single soldier in the camp drew their weapons as well. The sound of hundreds of swords leaving their sheaths was deafening and echoed in the lakebed.

"That...would be most unwise, corporal," Riveth said after the sound died down. "These _traitors_ are my guests, and I will not see them harmed."

"Unfortunately, Riveth, that is not up to you," Michel said and marched up to Rial, who remained passive. "Captain Rial Vortan, I am officially placing you under arrest for the attempted murder of—"

Rial batted away the hand Michel had placed on his shoulder, drawing his weapon. "You will have to take my cold, dead corpse back to your general!" he growled.

"That can be arranged!" Michel shouted and lunged at Rial with a tired thrust of his sword. Rial easily side-stepped the blow and made to strike at his opponent, but Riveth suddenly appeared in front of him and stabbed Michel in the gut with her blade. The corporal made a surprised sound, dropped his sword and fell to the ground, groaning. Riveth then made short work of him by stabbing him in the heart. He died almost instantly, blood staining the dirt beneath him red.

The entire camp was silent, everyone staring at Riveth and the dead body of Michel. The corporal's men didn't know what to do, standing at the ready with their weapons.

"Agon knew I wouldn't surrender," Riveth said, looking at the blood on the blade of her longsword. "He sent you here to prove a point and to send a message." She gazed at the eleven remaining men. "Well, I'm more than prepared to counter him. Kill them!"

It was over in seconds. Michel's men never stood a chance as dozens of swords descended upon them from every direction. They didn't even have time to fight back before they were all lying dead on the ground. Riveth's soldiers cheered, but it was clear that the general herself did not enjoy the slaughter.

"Ladies and gentlemen!" She shouted, sheathing her weapon. "We are at war once again! Of that there is no doubt! His Majesty is being held hostage in his own castle by a very old friend of ours! It appears the good Councillor Rehm is up to his old tricks again!"

Boos of disapproval and hatred rose up among her men.

"But!" she shouted, forcing them to quiet down. "I am prepared to resume the work I started a decade ago! We will rid the kingdom of this plague of a man and free our royal family once and for all!"

The soldiers cheered, and Riveth smiled.

"But there is an obstacle in our way! A veritable beast blocking our path! General Agon is probably marching here as fast as he possibly can, intending to finish us off before we can begin our liberation of Lumina! He never intended for you to go home! He just didn't want you to put up a struggle as he wiped you all out!"

"Murderer!" someone shouted. "Traitor!"

"We have all suffered the brand of treason wrongfully," Riveth said. "And we have suffered in silence! Well, now is our time to prove that we have been loyal all along! And the first step on that path is to wipe out Agon and every last shred of his betrayal of the king! So let us march, men and women of the Royal Army! Let us march towards our redemption! Death to the conspirators! Death to General Agon and _death_ to Councillor Rehm!"

The cheering became deafening, the speech reaching its climax. Swords were banged against shields, adding to the din. Sheik and Jeryd looked at each other, both probably thinking the same thing.

_It appears war has been declared._

* * *

Sheik had no idea how he'd been talked into this. He was currently riding beside Jeryd, just behind Riveth and Rial at the head of her army, heading south. According to the general, it was safer to travel with them as far south as possible before separating because, as she had said, they were bound to run into more trouble.

Æsir Fortress had been abandoned in a hurry, the only evidence of an army having once camped there being the buildings and palisades and the remains of hundreds of bonfires. Michel and his men had been left where they lay, no one bothering to give them a decent funeral. It bothered Sheik greatly. Whether Agon was a conspirator or not, Michel had just been following orders. He had known nothing about what was truly going on behind the scenes. The slaughter of him and his men had left a bad taste in his mouth. Looking over at Jeryd, he could tell that the human was having similar thoughts.

 _Had we not been there,_ he thought, _would Michel and his men still be alive?_

It was not a good train of thought, he knew. Blaming himself for the actions of others was the stupidest thing he could do, and he knew this...and yet...

He shook his head. _No, it was not my fault. Rial didn't help things by picking a fight with him._

Then a voice inside his head spoke, one that sent shivers down his spine with its cruel mockery, its velvet tone, _**Are you absolutely sure about that? You do have a way with bringing death and destruction in your wake, have you not?**_

Sheik's eyes widened, and he shook his head. _No, no, no, you're not real...I'm just tired and imagining you._

 _ **Oh, only if it were so,**_ laughed the voice. _**I told you, didn't I? You will never be rid of me.**_

_Leave me alone!_

_**Ah, but tormenting you is so much fun!** _

_Go to hell! I'm done with you!_

_**But** _ **I** _**am not done with** _ **you** _**...** _

"—eik? Sheik?" He was shook out of his reverie and forced to look at Jeryd, who was staring at him with concern. "Are you all right?" he asked. "You're talking to yourself."

"Oh...I'm fine," Sheik said, smiling before remembering that his mouth was invisible to the human. "I was just...strategising."

"Ah, I see," Jeryd said, not sounding convinced at all. "Do keep me in the loop, okay? We're together in this, after all."

"Sure," Sheik replied, falling silent. Speil's voice had rattled him to the core, as it always did. He'd thought for certain that it had all been a figment of his imagination and dreams, that the shadow truly wasn't back, but it seemed he had been wrong all along. It made him frustrated. If killing Speil in Hyrule had not been enough, then what _would_ be?

 _ **Good question, let's ponder on that for a while,**_ it said mockingly.

Sheik ignored it, tried to focus on the conversation going on ahead of him between Rial and Riveth.

"—a few miles further down, I think," Riveth said. "There is no way he'd be clever enough to go any other way. As far as I know, there are no other roads."

"Wouldn't call that a road, to be honest," Rial said, sounding sceptical. "More like a muddy field."

"Exactly," Riveth said. "Which is why we're going to wait there for him."

"I'm not sure if I like the idea of being a sitting duck."

"Trust me, the only sitting ducks will be them, and furthermore—yes, Ard, what is it?" The black-clad teenager had ridden up alongside the general and leaned in close to whisper something in her ear, to which she nodded. "Thank you, tell Erd to report to me the second he arrives."

Ard nodded and fell back, glaring at Sheik as he passed him by.

"He _really_ doesn't like you, does he?" Jeryd asked when they were a sufficient distance away from Ard.

"Apparently not," Sheik said, wondering if Speil was the great evil Ard had spoken of. _Of course it is,_ he reasoned. _What else could it be?_

_**I have a few ideas!** _

_Shut up!_

* * *

They made camp that night in a small, wind-blown valley. Spirits were high among the soldiers, despite the fact that they were going to war. Sheik supposed that it was a relief to finally have something to do after so many years of stagnancy, but he feared that Riveth would be biting off more than she could chew. It had been some years since she had fought a war last, after all, and Agon's forces outnumbered hers quite heavily.

"That is very true," she had said after Sheik voiced his worries. "But I am in the right, and Agon won't be expecting me to march out so soon. He'll be expecting me to wait in my fortress and try to resist him there."

"But that's impossible to defend, everyone knows that," Jeryd said.

"Yes, but he thinks I'm a dumb woman, doesn't he?"

"With all due respect, general," Rial piped in, "don't you think that relying on an element of surprise we're not even sure exists is a very...risky bet?"

"Nephew, we only have two choices here," Riveth said. "Sit and wait like good little boys and girls for Agon to come slaughter us all like cattle, or march out and meet him on the field of battle. Now, we may be marching to our deaths, but as far as I'm concerned, we're all dead anyway, and I intend to die with my sword buried in some bastard's chest—preferably Agon's."

"I do not wish to sound like a coward," Sheik said, "but I'd rather not be here when the fighting starts. I have important matters to attend to—"

"I know, I know," Riveth said, waving a hand. "You're looking to find your Hero of Time and get the hell out of Lumina as fast as you can. Believe me, I don't blame you. It's not your war, after all. As I said, we'll be going south for quite a distance, and you can tag along until we reach a road where you won't risk running into Agon's army. There, we will split up, and I'll wish you both the best of luck in your future endeavours. Sound good?"

"So...you're protecting us until then?" Jeryd asked.

"I wouldn't call it that, but sure thing," the general said, smiling. "You're still my guests, after all."

A few hours later, Sheik was sitting on an outcropping of rocks overlooking a steep drop into a quarry-like depression in the ground. He felt like he was losing control over everything—which, in a sense, he already had—and was trying to take stock and rearrange everything so that it made sense in his head. It didn't work, but he still tried.

 _What about you?_ He thought. _Anything to add? Some sarcastic comments, perhaps, or an insult or two?_

There was no answer. He realised then that the shadow's voice had sounded tired when it spoke to him earlier that day, as if the mere act of vocalising his thoughts was exhausting. Perhaps it was just a trick to evoke sympathy or maybe it was genuine—Sheik didn't know. What he did know was that if the shadow was just taunting him with its silence, there'd be hell to pay.

He was so deep in thought that he didn't even mention the black-clad teenager sitting beside him until he spoke, "Whatcha thinking about?"

To his credit, Sheik didn't jump, but he was definitely surprised by the sudden appearance. "So, you're going to be jovial to me now, are you?" he asked, glaring.

Ard cocked his head. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, are you done with accusing me of being evil and that you'd kill if me I risked Riveth's life?" Sheik said, not entirely sure what was going on.

"Kill you if...?" Ard trailed off, but then he perked up and began to laugh. "You think I'm my brother, then?" he said.

"You're...you're Erd?" Sheik asked, suddenly feeling foolish. Of course it had to be. Riveth had said that Erd was the one with social skills.

"That's me," Erd said, holding out a hand. "And you're Sheik of the Sheikah, Earl of Hyrule. Nice too meet you."

Sheik took it hesitantly, wondering if this one was going to see Speil's taint in him as well. "I apologise for my rudeness..."

"Nah, don't. If anything, I should be apologising for my brother's less-than-polite behaviour," Erd said. "He has never really liked dealing with other people, especially not after our parents left us in the forest to die. There's a wall there, and I'm the only one who knows how to get past it."

"I do not presume to know you well enough to ask this, but I am still curious as to why your parents saw fit to abandon you," Sheik said.

Erd paused slightly and fumbled with his hands. "It...happened because of various reasons, but I suppose chief among was the fact that they could no longer afford to feed us."

 _Worst lie I ever heard,_ Sheik thought, but nodded. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be, it wasn't your fault," Erd said. "Besides, General Riveth found us and took us in instead, and we couldn't be happier about it. So, you have asked me a personal question—"

 _Which you did not answer honestly,_ Sheik added mentally.

"—and it is only fair that I get to ask you one in return, isn't it?"

"I suppose so," Sheik replied. _Can't promise I won't lie in return._

"How long have you had the evil presence within you?"

_Oh, goodie..._

"I do not know what you are talking about," Sheik said. "Your brother said something to that effect as well, but I do not understand what you are talking about."

Erd chuckled and removed his hood, revealing very light blonde—practically silver—hair that was cut short. His eyes were a peculiar shade of green that seemed to almost glow. He then pulled down the mask covering the lower half of his face, revealing the visage of a handsome young man. "You are not a very good liar, Sheik of the Sheikah," he said, smiling.

"I could say the same about you, Erd," Sheik replied, lowering his own mask. He did not know why, but it seemed to be a sign of trust between them.

"It seems we both understand the value of withholding information from strangers," Erd said. "Refreshing."

"Indeed."

Silence. Uncomfortable silence at that.

"So, you are going to go to war with us?" Erd said, changing the subject.

"I was not planning to, no," Sheik replied. "My companion and I were separated some time ago, and I need to find him."

"That would be the Hero of Time, correct? I understand. It's not wise to involve yourself in a war that doesn't concern you."

"I'm glad you see it that way." How much did Erd know about him, anyway?

More silence before Erd spoke again. "I'm afraid you'll be disappointed, however."

"Why is that?"

"Because you'll be a part of the first battle of the war no matter what you do. Agon's army is approaching fast from the south. Riveth intends to meet him in two days' time—long before we reach a road you can take without running the risk of encountering his men."

"Huh..."

"Do not worry, though," Erd said, smiling a bit wider. "Stay close to the general and you'll be fine—she'll protect you."

"I can handle myself just fine in battle, thank you," Sheik said, a bit more bite in his tone than he intended. "I mean...I don't need anyone to protect me."

"As you say," Erd said, standing up and replacing his mask and hood. "Just know that the closer you are to her, the safer you'll be. If you'll excuse me, I have yet to have supper. Good night, Sheik of the Sheikah."

Sheik hadn't thought it possible, but the condescending tone in Erd's voice had managed to infuriate him to an even greater degree than Ard's insults. And how could they both know about Speil? He went to bed that night with even more questions floating around in his head than before, and no answers came to him in his sleep either.

And neither did they come during the next two days of travelling. Ard and Erd had made themselves scarce the morning after Sheik and Erd's conversation, apparently scouting ahead of the army, forcing Sheik to mull over it by himself. He couldn't tell Jeryd—that would just introduce problems. The brothers had not told Riveth or Rial, apparently, or they just didn't bother bringing it up. Sid had winked at him a few times during dinner, but Sid winked at _everyone_ (which earned him a punch in the face or two from several female soldiers) so that didn't seem out of the ordinary.

The army had arrived at a flat plain, at least a mile across, at the end of which a thick line of trees blocked any view of the terrain behind. Several roads broke off from the main one the army had travelled on and disappeared among the cliffs surrounding them. Riveth divided a hundred men from the main army and sent them down the different roads, intending for them to set up blocking positions.

"The roads are too narrow to fight on," she reasoned. "You don't need more than a few dozen soldiers with spears to hold one."

She, Rial and her officers were consulting a map over the area and discussing how best to proceeed.

"Agon knows it's foolish to come down the roads," Riveth continued, "which means that he'll try to break through the trees over there." She pointed at the line of trees. "Before that, however, he has to navigate through the nasty marshlands just beyond them. He'll exhaust his men going through it, leaving us to pick them off with our archers as they end up in the mud at the end of the field."

"How can you be sure that'll work?" Rial asked. "How is mud going to stop them long enough for the archers to do much damage?"

"Ah, nephew, do you remember nothing of your tactical training?" Riveth asked, shaking her head. "Agon won't be taking any chances and will have his men wear heavy armour. They'll have a hard enough time going through the bog, but the final straw will be the mud, which will slow them down even further. By the time they're out of it, they'll be far too tired to run, let alone walk. Sitting ducks for archers. Our longbows have a range of about three hundred yards. The infantry will finish off the rest."

"And what if he decides to take the roads?" an officer asked.

"He won't, but just in case, I'll have two hundred spearmen standing ready to be diverted, just in case."

"Surely Agon will not be stupid enough to attack us here?" Rial asked. "We hold every advantage! He'd be smarter to wait for us to come to him, not come charging through a damn swamp!"

"He's realised he's shot himself in the foot by sending the corporal and his men to announce his intentions, so he's in one hell of a hurry to stop us before we descend from the mountains. He's not familiar with the terrain, and he never fought me in open battle. He has no idea what he's walking into." Riveth grinned. "Is he going to feel stupid or what?"

"I feel pity for his men, though."

"It's war, captain. Casualties will happen, and I'd rather have those casualties be military personnel than civilians, don't you? We stop Agon here, we stop the war completely and save thousands of lives."

That was the end of it, and an hour later the army was preparing for battle. Spearmen stood in front of the archers, ready to protect them from any approaching enemies. Swordsmen stood behind the archers, ready to charge through the archers' ranks and smash into enemy ranks. The roads were being blocked with temporary barricades.

It was getting dark, the sun setting earlier and earlier. At least it appeared that the moon and stars would provide some light for the battle. Bonfires had been lit by Riveth's position.

Soon, the sounds and voices of hundreds of soldiers cursing their way through the marsh on the other side of the tree line could be heard. Scouts estimated it would an hour or so for the enemy to get through.

Sheik and Jeryd had found a prime viewing spot from the top of a large rock close to one of the roads. From there they could see everything. It had, of course, been Jeryd's idea to watch the battle from there—the human not wanting to miss a thing, leaving Sheik to wonder just how bloodthirsty he was.

"I'm not bloodthirsty," Jeryd said, apparently reading his mind. "I just can't let an opportunity to see Agon getting his ass kicked go by."

"Of course," said Sheik, shaking his head. He felt nervous. He had been briefed on the plan by Riveth, but he felt like there were far too many things that could go wrong. The scouts had reported that Agon's army also outnumbered Riveth's by at least three to one, so that was quite worrying too, which was why he was planning to get the hell out of there the second it seemed like Riveth was going to lose. She could get herself killed along with her army all she wanted, but Sheik did _not_ intend to go down with her.

 _I wonder what Link would think of this?_ he thought. _He'd probably insist on fighting alongside them, Hero that he is..._

He didn't get further with this line of thought, for there was suddenly a shout from the other end of the field, and several soldiers broke through the trees, stumbling over their own legs from fatigue. There was a murmuring of excitement among Riveth's men, and the archers drew their arrows, preparing to let loose a deadly shower—though they had clearly been surprised by the sudden appearance of their enemy, as several of them had yet to string their bows. Riveth herself was surprised and quickly barked at her officers to make ready for battle.

"The scouts were wrong," Jeryd commented.

"So it seems."

* * *

**Soul Remnants  
Chapter 27**

* * *

Shortly after dinner that night, there came a knock on the front door of Kafei and Elenwe's hideout. The two reacted promptly by each drawing a weapon and swiftly and silently moving downstairs. They both stood with their backs against the wall on either side of the door, nodding to each other in an obviously rehearsed manner before Kafei knocked on the door himself. It was a specific pattern. Two sharp knocks, two long ones, one sharp and three long ones. The person on the other side of the door knocked again in a different pattern, to which Kafei responded to with three additional sharp knocks. A sealed letter was slid through the letterbox, and the sound of the sender's footsteps quickly faded away.

Kafei bent down and picked the envelope up, frowning. "I wasn't expecting an update this soon," he muttered.

"I'm surprised they're even bothering, myself," Elenwe said, relaxing her stance and pocketing her knife. "After losing so many of their men, I mean."

"I suspect it has become a matter of principle to them," Kafei said, breaking the seal and reading the letter. "I'm not sure if we will have the funds to recompense them by the time this is over...oh my..."

"What? Who was that?" Link asked. He'd been standing on the staircase this entire time, having observed the pair's routine with a mix of awe and incredulity. Awe because of the speed at which they'd completed their interaction with the messenger, and incredulity at how ridiculous it had looked.

"That was a messenger from the local assassins' guild," Kafei explained. "I hired them soon after Sheik magically disappeared from the castle's dungeons. And before you say anything, no, I didn't hire them to kill him; I hired them to _find_ him." He held up the letter. "I've been receiving reports from them for months now."

Link nodded in understanding, though he remained slightly sceptical. "You didn't think you'd be able to find him yourself?" he asked.

"I do not doubt my abilities as a tracker," Kafei said haughtily. "But Lumina is a big place—I figured some help would come in handy. Of course, I didn't expect such a great evil to be stalking Sheik either..."

Link froze. "Great evil? What are you talking about?"

Kafei looked at him for a few seconds, seemingly weighing in the pros and cons of telling Link about it before shaking his head. "I suppose you deserve to know the truth...but let us go upstairs before I tell you. This information cannot be allowed to spread."

Oil lanterns were lit and placed around the upstairs bedroom, joining the roaring fireplace in the task of illuminating it. Kafei paced around the room for a few minutes, apparently collecting his thoughts. "It's difficult to explain," he said suddenly, turning to stare at Link. "But I assume, since you fulfilled the prophecy, that you completed the challenge in the temple beneath Lake Hylia?"

Link stared back. "You really need to ask?" he said. It was the temple he could most vividly recall, partly because of how infuriatingly confusing its innards were and how frustrated he'd been while trying to figure out when to raise or lower the water level, but mostly because of... _it_. Just picturing the place in his mind grated on his nerves.

Kafei grinned. "Ah, I see the legends of its difficulty were true."

"Not difficult," Link said quickly. "Just...obtuse. When I realised what to do, it was no trouble."

"Except for that one challenge, am I correct?" the Sheikah asked, giving Link a knowing look. "Or rather, the _challenger_?"

Link gritted his teeth. "It...did not go down easily, no." He didn't want to share with Kafei the details of just how much that damn shadow had tormented them after its supposed defeat in the temple.

"But you killed it, yes?"

"Yeah, I did," Link said, feeling annoyed. The less he acknowledged the shadow's existence, the sooner he could forget about it completely. He had a feeling Sheik thought the same...but then, he was the one having the nightmares, wasn't he?

"Completely? Did you confirm its death?" Kafei persisted.

"It's as dead as it could possibly get!" Link exclaimed, tired of the pestering. "Okay? It's dead and gone!"

"Then how is it, Hero, that I encountered your exact mirror image in an abandoned mineshaft fifty miles from here, surrounded by bodies?" When he saw how Link suddenly paused and went rigid, Kafei nodded to himself. "I was right then. The shadow has escaped from the temple."

"It did," Link said slowly and with a low voice. "But I killed it. Sank my sword deep into its heart. I destroyed it! It's _dead_!" Now it was the Hero's turn to pace around the room. "I don't know what you saw in that mineshaft, but it couldn't have been that!" He looked at Kafei. "You saw wrong!"

"Pinched a nerve, did I?" the Sheikah said, unfazed by the sudden outburst. "Please, sit down before you give yourself a heart attack. Thank you. Now, I am absolutely sure that it was _your_ mirror image I saw that night, Hero, and while knowing that a creature of such absolute evil as the shadow has broken loose from its bonds worries me, it worries me even _more_ that it knew of Sheik's name and spoke of him as its possession before I destroyed it."

"You killed it?" Link asked, surprised.

"Based on what you've told me, I destroyed _some_ of it. Now, explain why it knows Sheik."

Link remained silent. There were many things he did not feel comfortable enough to share with Kafei, and this was one of them. But then Kafei unleashed what Link had, in the past, named "The Sheik Glare". It was a look so filled with unspoken threats that promised such a horrible amount of bodily harm that it became incredibly difficult, if not downright impossible, to not comply with the owner's demands. Before Link knew what was happening, he was talking. As he told Kafei of Speil and its actions, he began to wonder if all Sheikah could Glare (it was so fearsome it had to be capitalised) like that. It had to have something to do with their eyes, it had to!

"So," Kafei said after hearing the tale. "Sheik was possessed."

"Yeah," Link replied.

"And he died?"

"Yes."

"But was brought back?"

"That's right."

"And then almost died again?"

"Mhm."

"But was actually saved by the shadow?"

"Correct."

Kafei's mouth remained open, his brain obviously having trouble with comprehending that particular chain of events. "That...is certainly a lot of information to take in." He sat down on his bed next to Elenwe, who was listening intently to everything that was being said, her eyes wide. "Is it just me, or does it sound like my dear cousin has the worst luck in the world?"

"Not just you," Elenwe said immediately.

Link stood up again, clenching his fists. "And you're absolutely sure that's what you saw in the mineshaft?" he asked.

"One hundred percent," Kafei answered.

The Hero looked almost serene as he calmly wandered over to the table laden with weapons, carefully picked up a large knife reminiscent of a butcher's tool, ran a finger along its edge and hummed approvingly before growling and hurling the knife into the wall behind him, where it struck the wood with a loud thud and sank deep into it, vibrating violently.

"I knew there was something he wasn't telling me!" he shouted angrily. "Stupid Sheik and his godsdamned secrets!"

The two on the bed had remained passive during the display, both of them raising a single eyebrow each in an eerily synchronised manner.

"I take it this is not the first time he has neglected to speak of this shadow?" Kafei ventured.

"Oh, if only you knew!" Link exclaimed. "It took him bloody forever to confess what had happened last time, and it was almost too late by then!" He strode over to the still-vibrating knife and pulled it out of the wall with a popping sound. "Six months. Six months of screaming in his sleep from nightmares, and he didn't even tell me what they were about! Of course it was Speil, of course it was!"

Kafei and Elenwe looked on as the Hero appeared unsure of what to do with the knife and opted to just slam it back down on the table from which he'd taken it and continue pacing around the room.

"An impressive display of...barely suppressed rage," Kafei said. "Which I completely understand, of course, despite its lack of purpose."

"Shut up!" Link spat.

"Do you even know if Sheik knew?" Elenwe asked.

"Of course he knew," Link said, trying to calm himself down. "Sheik knows everything. It's the most annoying thing about him."

"He was a bit of a know-it-all, I agree," Kafei said. "At least when it came to theory. I was always more...practically inclined."

"No offense, Kafei, but right now I don't give a damn about your inclinations," Link said as he began to pack his belongings.

"What are you doing?" Elenwe asked.

"Going to find Sheik, of course," the Hero replied as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "If that blasted shadow is back, finding him is more important than ever." He hurriedly threw on his sword and shield and turned to the door, finding Kafei standing in the way.

"I don't think that's a good idea," the purple-haired man said. "I must insist that you stay."

"Get out of my way, or else," Link said warningly.

"Or else what? You're going to kill me? Right now, I am your best bet on finding him, and you're going to throw that away for the sake of rage? Believe me, I feel a sense of urgency as well, but do you even know where to look?"

Link looked like he was about to charge through Kafei, but shook his head. "No, I don't," he admitted. "But you've got to start somewhere."

"And what if I told you that I have a very reliable lead on where we can find him?" Kafei continued.

"You do?"

The Sheikah waved the paper he'd been given by the guild's messenger. "Right here," he said tauntingly. "But I'll only show it to you if you promise me one thing."

Link growled. "What?"

"That you'll agree to travel with me and Elenwe."

"That's it?"

"Yes." The Sheikah smiled brilliantly. "Oh, and give us enough time to pack up our things."

"...fine, just hurry up and tell me!"

"Well, half of the letter is simply a series of expletives directed at me for costing the guild so much in terms of both manpower and money and that I am to pay the next assassin who contacts us the neat sum of fifty thousand gold pieces—our bill—if I expect to leave this kingdom alive. The other half is just a series of reports on army movements."

"That's what you call good information?" Elenwe asked, looking just as confused as Link. "You said you knew where to look."

"You didn't let me finish," Kafei said. "The army is moving north towards _another_ army belonging to a supposedly exiled general. A group of travellers were seen arriving at his or her camp a few days ago. Among them was a blond, red-eyed youth." He smirked. "Sound like someone we know?"

"What the hell is Sheik doing up there?" Link asked.

"I don't know, my friend," Kafei said, "but I _do_ know Sheik and...well, I have a feeling he's about to get involved in something nasty." He handed the letter to Link. "Read it and throw it on the fire when you're done with it. Elenwe, start packing. We leave in thirty minutes."

"Right," Elenwe said and stood up. She appeared thoughtful for a second before asking, "Since we are technically heading for a battlefield, I suppose heavy weaponry is in order?" She looked pointedly at the multitude of bladed weapons on the table in the corner, grinning just a tad too excitedly for Kafei's comfort. The girl had an unhealthy obsession with halberds. "Something that'll punch through armour, at the very least?" she asked hopefully after seeing his face.

"No, we need to travel light," Kafei said. "We're too far away to allow ourselves to be bogged down by our own equipment. Food, water, basic weaponry, that's it."

She grumbled but quickly started gathering her things, leaving Kafei to shake his head in disbelief at the Gerudo.

Link was already on his downstairs, his sword's scabbard banging against the back of his shield with every step.

"I'm leaving this house in exactly five minutes," he announced to the two upstairs, not about to let a trivial thing such as packing delay him any more than absolutely necessary. "With you or without you."

He opened the front door and let the cool air of the autumn night wash into the building. It was refreshing for his body, just as the letter had been for his mind. Sheik was alive. He finally had confirmation. In grave danger or not, he was still alive, and Link wasn't going to let anything, come hell or high water, stand in his way until they were reunited. He looked in the direction he knew Sheik was, and grinned.

"I'm coming, Sheik. Wait for me."

* * *

"Well, this quickly turned into a mess, I must say."

Sheik had never agreed to any of Jeryd's statements as much as he did with this one. Riveth had been just as surprised by the sudden appearance of Agon's army as her men, and while the archers, to their credit, had quickly strung their bows and begun firing at the approaching soldiers, they never managed to establish the kill zone she had planned on. It also appeared that Agon had thought about the terrain they'd be fighting on, and had ordered his men to start chopping down the trees that were funnelling the unfortunate vanguard into the muddy field ahead. As the cluster of trees fell one by one, more and more soldiers were pouring through the breach, no less eager to fight despite having just slogged through marshland.

The spearmen were currently doing an admirable job in keeping the tired, muddy and lightly armoured enemies away from the archers, but it was only a matter of time before they would be pushed back by the ever-growing mass in front of them. Riveth's swordsmen were darting in between their spear-wielding colleagues, stabbing at the enemies like bees. It was not a visibly effective tactic, in Sheik's mind, but if properly executed, it could have a cumulative effect by wearing down Agon's men slowly but surely.

 _I doubt they'll have the time for it, though,_ he thought as another tree fell, letting another group of soldiers into the field. They slipped and fell in the mud, but quickly recovered and were soon joining their friends, pushing and grunting at the spear wall ahead of them. So eager to die for their cause. Or, rather, so eager to help someone _else_ die for _theirs_.

"I wonder where _his_ archers are," Jeryd thought aloud. He and Sheik had retreated a little distance away from the battlefield, neither of them keen on the idea of accidentally getting hit by an arrow or some other projectile. Some of Agon's men were carrying slings and seemed to be deadly accurate with them. "He has no way of wearing down Riveth other than sending wave after wave of infantry at her."

"I guess the range of their bows isn't long enough," Sheik mused. "Riveth's archer's longbows are different to any other kind of bow I've seen deployed in battle before."

"They're her specialty, apparently." Jeryd threw a glance at the improvised headquarters of General Riveth. It was a small, folding coffee table with a map on it, surrounded by officers. That was it. "She never was a close combat expert, or so the books on the civil war say, at least."

"Too few archers to be a specialty."

"She lost a lot of men to desertion after their exile was announced. She has roughly eight-hundred men, yes?"

"A little less," Sheik said, fairly certain that he'd counted _much_ less than eight-hundred.

"Well, she _was_ in command of over two thousand men in her prime. Not counting all the officers that were executed and those who fell in battle during the first war...well, there's still a lot of men missing, is my point."

Sheik didn't reply. There was no point in doing so. They observed the battle in silence for a few minutes, both trying to ignore the screams of the dying and wounded. Sheik had been a witness to so many battles during the Seven Year War that he was certain he'd been desensitised to them...but he realised he'd been wrong. He had simply gotten too skilled at ignoring them. He'd been forced to, or he would never have become the protector and assassin Zelda needed him to be. He was certain the princess regretted it, in hindsight, but that was just the way it had turned out. And right now, he was glad he still had the ability.

"Unless she does someth'n t' curb t' influx of soldiers, t' good general's gonna lose," said the voice of Sid, approaching them from behind. The bearded soldier was still wearing his Royal Guard armour, which had been polished to shine. The ever-present grin had been replaced by a neutral, straight line in his face, however, and his usually merry tone had now turned into a slightly worried one. "There's too many of 'em."

While Sheik wasn't overly fond of the man with the strange accent, he agreed with his assessment of the unfolding events in front of them. Already now the line of spearmen was starting to bulge in the middle. It was both a blessing and a curse, from the looks of it. A blessing because it forced the enemy soldiers into a position where they were almost completely surrounded by sharp blades that cut them down by the dozens, and a curse because the amount of soldiers being funnelled into the position continued to push the spearmen backwards—it was impossible for them to hold back such a volume of troops on their own!

"What happens if she loses?" Jeryd asked.

"We run like hell, I suppose," Sheik said. "And hope that Agon will be too busy picking off Riveth's troops to notice us."

"Cynical, kid," Sid said quietly. "I like it."

Sheik closed his eyes, hoping that it wouldn't come to that. He was getting a headache, the sound of steel clashing against steel starting to grate on his nerves. It was the pitch of it, not the volume. It went right through his head, into his brain, scratching and itching. The sounds of the dying and wounded melted into one constant noise, never letting up, as if the departing souls were desperately trying to convey their suffering. And amidst all the sonic dissonance, there was a low-pitched, humming drone. It was a weak sound, barely audible amongst the others, but the imprint it left upon his mind and the earth was substantial. A vibration under his legs, as if the ground beneath them was protesting against the many soldiers treading, bleeding and dying upon it.

 _Am I going insane?_ he wondered. He opened his eyes and looked around him. Jeryd and Sid were focusing on the battle, oblivious to the sound. _Am I the only who hears it? Surely not._

 _ **Isn't it a symptom of madness to ask yourself if you are indeed insane?**_ Speil's voice suddenly said, snickering to itself. _**Much like it is a sign of stupidity when you do the same thing over and over again and expect different results.**_

 _I was not asking you, non-existent mental construct,_ Sheik thought tiredly, wishing to the Goddesses that the shadow's voice in his head was just a result of all the stress getting to him. He had never been away from Link for as long as this after they'd met. Ever. The want for the Hero's strong arms around him was starting to become overpowering, though he would never admit that to himself—it was a weakness he could not allow to fester and grow.

 _ **Non-existent mental construct?**_ Speil asked, still chuckling. _**Oh, the theories you come up with when you are in denial are so...amusing.**_

 _Shut up! And no, a sign of insanity is when the thought of being insane doesn't even occur to you._ _In other words, you're never saner than when you are questioning your own sanity._ That train of thought seemed odd, even to him. _Anyway, I have no interest in bantering with you. Begone!_

He was expecting an argument, a defiant snarl, a snort of derision or belittling laughter. Speil had never been one to listen to Sheik. If anything, such a demand would usually just make the shadow bother him even more, or so he remembered. However, much to his surprise, the shadow's voice just...disappeared. But that only made the humming sound more prevalent, and the headache picked up in its intensity. He was brought back to reality when he refocused his gaze and found the fake clerk's eyes staring into his.

"You okay?" Jeryd asked, shaking his arm and sounding concerned. "You were muttering to yourself. And glaring at me, I might add. Did I do something wrong?"

Sheik shrugged. "No, I was just thinking about something."

"What made you so angry?"

"It's...difficult to explain. I'm just frustrated, that's all."

"Ye're not th' only one, kid," Sid said, putting a hand on his sword. "T' line's breakin', look!"

The strangely accented soldier was right. Agon's men were piling on more and more now, and the line of spearmen was starting to bulge in the middle, the men there getting cut down in great numbers. The archers were starting to pull back, allowing the regular swordsmen to get into position in front of them as the second—and last—line of defence.

"Time to move to the command centre?" Jeryd suggested, nodding towards Riveth and Rial, who were shouting at each other and gesturing wildly, their voices lost in the din of battle. Rial pointed at the map, stabbing his finger into the fragile cloth, as if to emphasise that someone had either not been properly deployed here or not deployed at all. The general was crossing her arms and shaking her head, obviously not taking the blame for whatever Rial was unhappy with.

As they approached, it became apparent what the argument was about, and it had Sheik ready to groan with disbelief.

"—and I do not appreciate that tone, young man!" Riveth bellowed at her nephew, whose face was positively red with indignant rage. "There is _nothing_ wrong with these tactics! They are _solid_!"

"Then explain that bulge!" Rial hollered back, pointing at the dwindling spearmen. Every now and then, an arrow fired by enemy archers landed close to the place where they stood, but neither general nor captain seemed to pay them any mind. Sheik wasn't sure if he should admire their lack of fear or deplore their lack of awareness. _Probably a bit of both_ , he thought.

"Your men are good warriors, but they're cracking under Agon's sheer numbers!" Rial continued. "Put in the remaining spearmen to strengthen the line or they'll fall!"

"And leave our backs completely exposed?" Riveth countered. "What if Agon's just decided to march five hundred men right into our backs? We'll definitely die that way!"

"I don't think the battle is going the way she imagined it would," Jeryd said quietly next to Sheik, who couldn't help but agree.

The humming sound was growing louder and louder now, and the people on the field were finally starting to cock their heads in response to it, wondering what it was. Sheik breathed a small sigh of relief—he hadn't just imagined it, then.

"I am not risking our only escape route if we lose this—"

"And we will if you don't commit them—"

"Look you stupid bastard, your battlefield experience is close to null, and you think you can order _me_ around?" Riveth snarled. "How about I put this table through your—what the hell is that sound?"

The flash of light in the sky came first, illuminating the clouds above them in a brilliant display of radiance. It was followed by a quiet whistle, which grew in louder and louder to the point where it sounded like a dozens of birds all screaming at once. And then it struck Riveth's archers.

The soil beneath them exploded in a ball of flame, flinging dirt, rocks and screaming soldiers in all directions, flying shrapnel tearing them apart. The sound was deafening, rupturing the ear drums of those in the immediate vicinity of the blast. Those who were fortunate enough to be outside of the immediate blast zone had their relief cut short as the ground beneath them broke apart and swallowed them whole, burying them alive under wet muck and earth, choking them.

The entire battlefield fell silent as everyone on both sides tried to make sense of what had just happened. Some went to help those who were crawling away from the small crater, crying pathetically as they realised they'd gone blind and deaf. The humming sound was growing louder still, and Sheik just realised where he had heard that sound before—and looked up.

Another bright flash up in the clouds, and then the hull of _The Chimera_ descended from the skies, illuminating the battlefield with its powerful floodlights. They swept across everyone gathered; seemingly gauging which side was which as it slowly came to a halt still hundreds of yards above them. The sound of metal grinding against metal erupted from the airship, and dozens of tiny ports opened all along its hull, inside of which glinted metal tubes.

"What is this abomination?" Sheik heard Riveth ask quietly, her eyes wide with surprise and—if that was indeed it—fear. She had just seen a good twenty of her men reduced to bits and pieces of meat in a smoking crater. The blast had taken her off her feet.

The difference in reactions between the two sides was all-too-obvious. Agon's men began cheering as their mightiest military weapon flexed its muscles, trying to scare Riveth into surrendering.

" _The Chimera_ ," Rial said breathlessly. He too had ended up on the ground after the blast. "The old king's favourite toy..."

To her credit, Riveth quickly got to her feet, dusted herself off, and drew her sword as well as a deep breath. The steel in her eyes matching that of her sword, she shouted in a clear, level voice: "No surrender! Take that metal beast down!"

 _ **Foolish,**_ Speil muttered, barely audible to Sheik. _**Brave, but foolish. I believe it would be in our best interests if you legged it.**_

Sheik ignored him. What good could running away possibly do here? There was no hiding from the airship—the floodlights would track them like a predator, showing its gunners where to fire. They'd all go out in a blaze—whether it was one of glory or not would be up for debate, though Sheik leaned towards the latter.

 _We're...beaten,_ he thought.

Riveth's army showed no signs of having similar thoughts, however, as they seemingly renewed their resolve and reassumed their positions, weapons held high. They'd fought in some of the hardest battles in the last civil war—they were not about to let this...contraption send them packing. Agon's men realised what was happening and did the same. They'd been hoping _The Chimera_ would finish the battle for them, but if Riveth insisted on being stubborn, then they would gladly slaughter her army to the last man before finishing her off. And with the airship as their support, there'd be no way for them to lose.

That must have been their thoughts. Which was why, when _The Chimera_ fired again, they were surprised and shocked when the blast hit the middle of _their_ ranks. Showered by the remains of the twenty-to-thirty men who had just been standing where there was now a ditch filled with blood, body parts and dust, Agon's men's were in shock, unable to move.

"Misfire?" Jeryd wondered out loud.

"Nah," Sid replied. "Whoever's in control o' that thing intends to finish both sides off in one go."

It sounded ludicrous. Why would _The Chimera_ , which was the property of the king himself try to finish off Agon's men, who, ostensibly, were on his side? Sheik realised he had answered his own question. Perhaps the king was in direct control of the airship. Perhaps he was trying to rescue Rial and the others.

Any such hopes were dashed when _The Chimera_ fired again. Full broadsides in both directions. The whole battlefield was immediately consumed by fire, dust and bloody mud. Cries of pain and terror were cut short as their owners were vaporised by the ship's cannons. Sheik found himself unable to move, only managing to crouch down and covering his ears with his hands, gritting his teeth, horrified by the destruction being unleashed on them.

It was over in seconds. It was impossible to see more than a few feet ahead of him, the entire field being shrouded by smoke and dust, clinging to the air and leaving an acrid taste in his mouth. The irony tang of blood was in the air as well. His ears were ringing so loudly that he couldn't even hear his own thoughts, which was just as well since they were a jumbled mess further disrupted by the fight-or-flight instinct that was currently battling heavily with his desire to just sit down and weep at the horridness of it all.

When the dust began to settle and the visibility of the battlefield improved, there was practically nothing left of either army. Small groups of survivors were clustering, grabbing at each other and trying to make sense of what had happened. Some were missing limbs, though they seemed less concerned with that than just trying to get away from the craters they were crawling around in.

Riveth was frozen to the spot, staring at the carnage in bewilderment, unable to comprehend that her army had been completely destroyed in seconds. Her hand lost the grip on her sword, which clattered uselessly to the ground. Rial was doing something similar, though he had to grab on to the table in order to keep himself standing. Behind them, the fifty or so personal guards were looking at each other with confusion, unsure of what to do with themselves.

" _General Drena Riveth!"_ a voice suddenly boomed across the battlefield, sounding more like a bark than anything else, the sound distorted by what reminded Sheik of a loudhailer. _"Your army has been annihilated! Surrender immediately in the name of the king, and you will be spared!"_ When no reply was forthcoming from the general, the voice said, _"Surrender now, or face execution!"_

Jeryd was tugging at Sheik's sleeve, and when he turned to look at what the human wanted him to see, his spirits sank even further. More soldiers were pouring out from among the trees, some carrying the blue banner of General Agon. They were...different. They had heavier armour, seemingly better weapons and a much tighter grasp on discipline. They quickly formed up and marched in orderly lines through the wasteland the field had been turned into, seemingly oblivious to the bloodbath around them. Every now and then, they would encounter survivors, grasping at them with desperation, begging for help. The only thing they received was a quick, merciful death by a sword to the neck. It didn't matter whose side they were on, the newcomers finished them all off. It was a slaughter, but at least those who were executed did not have their suffering prolonged.

For a moment, Sheik fully expected the airship to open fire on the new soldiers, but the guns remained silent. In fact, the gun ports on Agon's side of the ship were closing.

_He only intended to destroy Agon's vanguard? To what purpose? A show of power?_

" _This is your final chance, Riveth!"_ the voice bellowed again. _"Surrender! Now! Or seal your own fate!"_

One of Riveth's soldiers suddenly came running down one of the roads they'd secured, covered in blood. He didn't even bother to observe official protocol by informing officers first, opening his mouth and shouting, "The road's full of Agon's men! We can't hold them back!"

Riveth's face was conflicted, looking from the messenger to the airship to the approaching enemy soldiers, agonising over the decision. She looked at Rial, who was as pale-faced as her. This was not how their revolution was supposed to go.

"What...what do you think?" she asked her nephew, sounding insecure, an emotion that did not fit with the image Sheik had of her in his mind. "Surrender?" she continued.

"It's...it's up to you," Rial said slowly. "But I won't surrender until Agon and Rehm are dead and Victor is rescued."

It was touching to see him display such loyalty to his king (it reminded Sheik of himself when it came to Zelda), but it was a very bold statement considering he had nothing with which to fight now that his aunt had been so thoroughly defeated.

"Nephew..." Riveth said, sounding sad.

"They'll execute me anyway," Rial continued, his voice growing stronger. "I'm a dead man whether I continue to fight or not, and if I'm going to down, it will be with a sword in my hand, not a white flag!"

Everyone fell silent for a few seconds, the only sounds coming from the rapidly approaching soldiers of Agon. Then Riveth nodded.

"I couldn't agree more, Rial," she said and picked up her sword. "I'd be a fool to let fear cloud my decision on this." She turned to the remainder of her men, an odd hundred or so, not including those who were fighting on one of the roads.

"Lads, it looks like our road as a royal army ends here! Instead, we are now outlaws, fighting for what we think is right and those we care about! We lost many friends just now, and nothing will bring them back! Those who wish to surrender are free to do so, but I would not expect much in the way of mercy from the coward Agon! He will humiliate you, torture you and kill you just to satisfy his own twisted ego! If that is your wish, then lay down your weapons and welcome your punishment with open arms! If, however, you still wish to do your part and free our beloved country of corruption and treason, then refasten your grip around your instruments of choice, and help me bring death to our enemies and avenge our fallen comrades!"

The cheering was rather subdued, but Sheik did not see a single one of her men drop their weapons. They made the decision as one, and their gazes hardening as they channelled their fear and anger into determination.

"We cannot fight this army," Rial said. "But if we retreat up the other road, we'll be able to cover our approach and set up ambush spots."

"You're right," Riveth said. She nodded to one of her officers, who picked up the map just before she kicked the coffee table over, smashing it on the rocks. "Men, retreat up the free road! Spearmen in the back and archers in the front! They want to kill us, let's give 'em a challenge!"

"Guess that's my cue," Sid said and put his helmet back on and headed for the groups of soldiers without looking at Sheik and Jeryd, who were feeling unsure of what to do.

"We don't really have a choice, do we?" Sheik asked. "We're sitting ducks out here."

"I guess so," Jeryd agreed. "Truth be told, though, I'd rather be at the front than the back, so..."

As they headed for the front of the column, the voice from the airship sounded out once again. _"Do you surrender, General Riveth?"_ it demanded.

"No!" Riveth shouted back. "And you can take that loudhailer and shove it up your ass!"

It was a challenge. She was well aware that the ship could open fire at any moment and utterly decimate the pathetic remnant of her army and not to mention herself. But she seemed to be testing out a theory. If whoever controlled the ship truly wanted them all dead, then they would have just skipped the formalities and destroyed them all with a single round of cannon fire. But since it didn't happen, they obviously wanted her or someone else in her retinue alive.

As Sheik and Jeryd passed her, she nodded to them. "It seems you will be required to travel with our company a little while longer, master Sheikah," she said apologetically.

Sheik simply nodded.

They hadn't even got halfway to the gathering soldiers before triumphant shouts from the other road were heard and the survivors of the men Riveth had posted there came pouring out from among the rocks, all shouting for the others to retreat and apologising for not being able to hold it.

Sheik spotted Ard and Erd among them, though they did not seem to have the same sense of urgency as the men around them, almost jogging casually towards Riveth, who was busy making sure that everyone was getting into position.

Then Agon's men from the road came, and fierce fighting broke out.

Sheik and Jeryd drew their weapons, but hesitated to throw themselves into the skirmish. Sheik was not confident in his own ability to fight just yet, and Jeryd just didn't want to fight at all. The front of the column of soldiers, where the archers were, was already beginning to move along the road that was apparently still free of enemies.

"Riveth!" Jeryd suddenly shouted, pointing to where the general was fighting alongside her nephew. They were quickly being surrounded by Agon's men from the road, of whom there seemed to be an endless supply. The ones marching across the battlefield were taking a leisurely stroll, apparently content in letting the others do the hard work. The aunt and nephew pair was holding their own rather impressively as Riveth's officers fell around them, stabbing and parrying and slicing their opponents with skill that came from years of training.

But not even they could hold back so many enemies by their own, and they were cut off from the rest of the army. They tried pushing their way back, and nearly succeeded, but then Riveth took a blow to her side and stumbled. Rial reacted instantly and stepped in front of her, finishing off the man who'd wounded her by slicing his neck open with a single move.

All hope seemed lost for the pair when Ard and Erd suddenly appeared from among the soldiers, much to Sheik's surprise. They enemies didn't even seem to notice them. That is, until Ard got in front of Rial as at least five men charged at them, and held out a hand, showing them his palm in what appeared to be a pathetic attempt at looking intimidating.

And then there was a violent release of energy that Sheik felt penetrating his very core, and the five men (and the ten behind them) was thrown in the opposite direction, crashing into their friends and comrades in a loud clatter. And then Erd did the same behind them, sending a dozen soldiers sprawling to the ground. Agon's men were just as surprised by this as Sheik, and they quickly backed away from the now four people as they quickly moved towards the rest of Riveth's men. Every now and then, the two mysterious boys released more shockwaves, creating a perimeter around them.

"What the hell was that?" Jeryd shouted.

"Magic," Sheik breathed to himself as all the pieces fell into place and he realised why they had confused and unnerved him so. "Magic!" he repeated loudly. "They're warlocks!"

* * *

**Soul Remnants  
Chapter 28**

* * *

The retreat from the battle was an effort of complete and utter chaos. What had started as an orderly and tight formation soon turned into just a large group of men, women and horses desperately trying to get away from the metallic monster firing at them from above. Sheik had located Shun in the mess and was holding tightly onto her reigns and trying to lead her away from the danger. Jeryd was ahead of them, clearing a path with strength that belied his relatively thin frame. They'd both lost sight of anyone they knew in the press, and as far as Sheik was concerned it was every man for himself at the moment.

The road they'd chosen as an escape route was effectively a funnel, and it prevented the remainder of Riveth's army from moving at any greater pace than a slow trot. The soldiers pushed and shoved at each other, most begging those ahead of them to move faster, to lead them out of the killing ground the road was quickly starting to become.

Another deafening boom and at least a dozen of Riveth's soldiers at the head of the group were obliterated in an instant along with a significant piece of the road. A loud horn continued the sonic assault, scaring the soldiers witless.

And as if the airship chasing them wasn't bad enough, there were still plenty of enemy soldiers at their heels, cutting down the fleeing army from behind.

 _This is one hell of a mess!_ Sheik thought, wondering what he could possibly have done to deserve all this.

His ears popped, and he cast a glance behind him to see several of Agon's men running into a seemingly invisible wall before being violently hurled backwards. _One of the brothers,_ he thought. He still wondered how he could possibly have missed the possibility that the two of them were magic users. Every sign had been there!

Riveth was injured. She was being carried by five of her soldiers, Rial following closely behind, flanked by either Ard or Erd—it was impossible to tell with their face obscured by the mask. The other brother was farther back in the group, doing his best to hold back Agon's men. Another pop, another dozen of them flew backwards at breakneck speed.

The airship above them roared as the output of its engines was adjusted, giving it a better view of the fleeing troops. It must have been like shooting fish in a barrel, the gunners surely enjoying themselves as they fired at a nearly leisurely rate. Some even missed on purpose, it seemed, their only goal being to scare the living hell out of the—to them—tiny ants on the ground.

There was no plan anymore. No one knew what they were doing; they were just trying to get away from the horrible thing above them and the murderous bastards behind them. Sheik had no idea how long the road stretched on ahead or even where it ended up. If it led them to another open field like the one they'd just left behind, they were all dead. Not that their prospects of surviving were any better here, but still...

"Of course this had to happen on the one windless night of the year!" Jeryd shouted ahead, growling to himself as he was forced to push a stumbling man aside. Sheik felt like he should have said something to stop the human, but he realised it would simply fall on deaf ears. Survival was the only thing on their minds now.

And then an idea struck him. "Windless?" he asked.

"There's no way in hell that thing would've been stable enough to follow us like this on a windy night!" Jeryd answered. "Would blow it right off course!"

Sheik looked at _The Chimera_ , and then at Ard or Erd at Riveth's side. A plan formed in his head.

"Jeryd! Take Shun!"

He didn't even wait for the human to acknowledge what he had said before handing Shun's reigns over to him and starting to push his way towards the injured Riveth. The general was obviously not happy with being practically carried and waved her arms angrily at her supporters.

"Just leave me be! I can walk by myself! It's me they're after anyway!"

Rial and the others didn't seem to notice her ravings. Upon spotting Sheik, he nodded curtly.

"Glad to see you're still alive!" he said.

"You too!" Sheik replied. He looked at Ard or Erd, who also nodded at him. Erd, then. Sheik had a feeling Ard wouldn't bother with pleasantries like that. "I need your help!"

"What with?" Erd asked.

"Getting that bastard off our backs!" Sheik replied and pointed upwards. "If we don't do something about it, we'll all die!"

"I assumed as much!" Erd replied dryly. "You have a plan?"

"I think so, but I need someone who can use magic!"

"Tell Ard, I cannot leave the general's side!" Erd motioned towards Riveth, who was currently throwing fists at anyone she could reach. "She must be protected!"

"Will Ard agree to help me?" Sheik asked. "He doesn't like me very much!"

"He will if he knows what's good for him!" Erd said. "Tell him I said that!"

"Right!"

As Sheik pushed his way through the crowd, carving a path through to the back, he started to doubt his plan. It would require a bit of power, this... Someone elbowed him in the face by accident, but he hardly noticed, his attention so focused on the grey-clad youth just ahead. Several of Riveth's men broke away from the group, turned around and readied themselves to face the approaching enemies. Even now they remained professional, sacrificing themselves to save their comrades. Ard must have noticed Sheik approaching, for he turned around and stared at him as he stopped in front of him.

"I need your help!"

Ard didn't even reply, only snorted as he turned his attention back to the approaching soldiers.

"It'll save many lives!"

No reaction.

"Erd said that you'd better do it if you know what's good for you!"

The mention of his brother made Ard turn back around, gaze at Sheik for a few seconds before grunting quietly. "What?" he asked.

"Can you create wind? With your magic, I mean!" Sheik asked.

Ard nodded.

" _Strong_ wind?"

Nod.

"And lots of it?"

Hesitation, and then another nod, though this seemed more careful.

"I think you know what I want you to do!" Sheik said, looking pointedly up at the airship. "Get it out of our hair!"

Ard looked up, sizing the ship up before looking back at Sheik, who could have sworn he saw an eyebrow twitch underneath the hood. Then he nodded one final time before running past Sheik, as if trying to catch up to the leaders of the group. Sheik followed him, wondering if he was going to ask Erd if he was serious, but then he started to climb up on one of the huge rocks that littered the sides of the road, trying to get to a high point. Standing on the rock, Ard cocked his head to the side, looking confused.

And then it started. Sheik's head began to feel heavy, and it felt like someone was wrapping cloth around his ears as the background noise gave way to the almost comforting hum of the very minute amounts of magical energy in the background being spent.

 _I didn't think of that,_ he thought as he watched Ard starting to wave an arm around in the air, apparently visualising the air streams he was trying to manipulate. _There's so little magic in these lands, but these two are channelling it as if there's an endless supply!_

A mild breeze began to blow around their heads, leaving everyone's skin tingling slightly and tearing away any doubt about where it came from. It grew stronger and stronger, and the dust from the road was starting to swirl around them.

Ard grunted loudly and pointed at the airship, which was already starting to wobble in the air because of the unexpected gusts.

Everyone _heard_ the sudden gale, and one could see that the crew of _The Chimera_ had not expected anything like it as the airship lurched through the air and disappeared behind a cliff, nearly crashing into it. The sudden disappearance of their air support seemed to discourage Agon's men from pursuing them as wildly as they had before and were currently trying to regroup further up the road, giving the fleeing army some much-needed breathing space. Sheik couldn't help but smile in relief.

 _All isn't lost, then_.

He turned his gaze to Ard, intending to congratulate him despite being a rude bastard, but his words died on their way out when he saw the boy stumble off the rock, hitting the ground hard with a groan. Sheik ran over to him, trying to see if he'd been hit by an arrow or something, but Ard slapped his hands away.

"'m fine," Ard slurred, trying to stand up but failing miserably. His knees didn't cooperate at all, buckling under his weight. "'ust tired..."

Sheik rolled his eyes and seized the young warlock and hauled him to his feet, putting Ard's arm around his shoulder. The act of creating those winds had completely sapped the youth's strength.

"Don't even think of starting to protest," he growled. "You're in no condition to walk!"

Ard remained silent, looking down at the ground.

With the airship terrorising them gone and the soldiers behind them regrouping, the remnants of Riveth's army seemed to calm down a bit, and their retreat became more professional, more controlled. With everyone forming into orderly ranks, they could once again actually get moving at some semblance of a good pace. Every now and then, they heard the loud hissing of the ship's steam engines, but they did not see it again.

They reached the end of the mountain road and hit a path that led through a thick forest. They followed it for a time before spreading out and setting up several smaller camps well away from the path. It was a strategy very similar to the one the Hyrulian Remnant had employed during their withdrawal to the Lost Woods. Of course, with Riveth's men being so few, it was much less impressive.

But at least they were safe. For now, anyway. The trees provided a roof to protect them from the prying eyes of _The Chimera_ if it ever managed to get back on course, and Agon's men seemed to have stopped their pursuit altogether. It was a welcome reprieve.

Jeryd had followed Riveth's group and was waiting with Shun for him and Ard as they arrived.

"I was wondering where you'd gotten off to," Jeryd said as he took the unresisting Ard off of Sheik, looking slightly awkward as he had no idea what to do with the boy next. "That was a good plan."

"You're the one who gave it to me," Sheik said, patting Shun on her neck.

"Ah, so _I_ saved the day then, did I?" Jeryd asked, grinning.

Ard made a grumbling sound which sounded suspiciously like "No, you didn't, it was me," but it was impossible to be sure as his words were still heavily slurred.

"What's wrong with him?" Jeryd asked.

"He's exhausted," Sheik replied. "Magic takes a lot out of the user."

"I see—"

"Thank you for taking care of my brother," Erd said, suddenly appearing behind them. Sheik had gotten used the warlocks' ability to appear out of nowhere, but Jeryd still visibly jumped in surprise. Wordlessly, Erd took his brother and led him away, speaking quietly all the way.

"Those two really don't say much, do they?" Jeryd asked after a minute.

"They don't need to, I think."

* * *

Riveth was in surgery. That is, if being propped up against a thick tree trunk with two men holding her down and Agneta doing her best to clean and stitch the wound closed could be _called_ that. She was cursing and threatening to tear the heads off everyone involved, taking special care to single out her nephew, who was standing a few feet away and shaking his head at the display, claiming that blood bonds meant nothing in the light of the current situation. He gave Sheik a knowing look as he passed, silently saying, "Save yourself."

But Riveth wasn't the point of Sheik's interest at the moment. He found Ard and Erd sitting among a small, enclosed group of trees a little distance away from the others. Ard was out like a light, being held by Erd who himself was sitting against a tree. As Sheik approached, he heard Erd whispering to his brother.

"You did well today, Ard. Everyone owes their lives to you. I'm so, so proud of you..."

He looked up when Sheik stepped into their little sanctuary. He'd taken off his mask and hood, revealing the silvery, blond head of hair. He was smiling.

"I can't thank you enough for helping him," Erd said. "Everyone was too busy making sure that Riveth and the other officers were okay to notice him."

Sheik looked away, not sure if he deserved such praise considering how much Ard annoyed him. "I only did what was right," he mumbled.

"No, you could easily have left him there to be captured or killed," Erd countered. "I know you two don't like each other at all, but you saw past that and made sure that he made it back to me. Thank you." Ard mumbled something indecipherable, which only made his brother smile and squeeze his shoulder lightly. "He can be a bit of an ass when he's awake, but when sleeping...like a lamb, I tell you."

Sheik nodded, feeling a bit awkward. "May I sit?" he asked.

"Of course," Erd replied, nodding. "I've wanted to talk to you, anyway. And I assume you have some questions as well."

"I'm that obvious, am I?" Sheik asked as he made himself as comfortable as he could on the damp ground.

"Well, yes," Erd said, smirking. "But I also assumed you were curious about our...magic, after seeing it in action. It surprised you, didn't it?"

Sheik nodded dumbly. "Yes, but only because I know that practicing magic is outlawed in Lumina. I cannot help but wonder if...if..."

"If that is the reason for why our parents left us to die in the forest?" Erd finished. "Yes, that is very much the reason for our abandonment. Our family was not wealthy by any means, and sometimes we did not have enough to around, but food was not as big an obstacle as I made it out to be." He clenched the fist that was not gently rubbing his brother's arm, sounding bitter. "I was the first to show signs of having the gift. We were playing in the barn, Ard and I, and we were wrestling in the hay, just doing what boys at that age do. We started arguing about something—I don't remember what—and then I pushed him. Harder than I meant to, and he went over the edge of the loft. I'm not sure how I did it, but he never hit the floor. Instead, he floated a few inches off it. I remember suddenly feeling very tired, and then the levitation stopped."

Ard mumbled some more, which softened his brother's gaze slightly.

"My first use of magic was used to save someone. Surely it could not be as evil as the stories we'd been told claimed?"

"How old were you?" Sheik asked.

"Five," Erd replied.

"What happened then?"

"We kept it a secret, of course," Erd said. "We were kids, but we weren't stupid. We knew something bad would happen if our parents found out. I started to practice, though. I realised I could do many different things apart from levitating objects. I could create fire out of nothing, make water freeze in an instant! Of course, being very inexperienced, I couldn't make the effects last. They only lasted a few seconds at best."

"Ard showed signs of possessing the gift a few months later. He grew jealous of the things I could do, and started trying to do them himself. And that's when the very fundamental difference between my brother and I came to light."

"And that is?" Sheik asked as Erd began to pull at his brother's mask and hood. His hair was the same colour as his brother's, though kept slightly longer. There were braids in it, for some reason. But Sheik focused on his face, and saw that it was identical to Erd's, right down to the slight bump on the bridge of his nose. A light sheen of sweat covered the sleeping brother's face, showing his exhaustion.

 _Twins,_ he thought.

"That while we both can do magic, Ard's the most powerful one," Erd finished, smiling at the surprise on Sheik's face. "I have greater control of my gift, but I cannot channel nearly as much energy as he can. The power of my spells isn't even a _fraction_ of his."

"I see," Sheik said. "I assume the difference in power resulted in something unpleasant back then?"

"Yes," Erd said, his voice quiet. "Of the few spells I could do at the time, the one where I created fire out of thin air was the one that fascinated Ard most of all. He tried to do it himself, and a few times he managed to make wisps of smoke appear, but that was it, no flame. He did not have the...control required for it. That's when he grew angry and used the aggression in an effort to make the fire appear. I felt it then, how the energy was drawn to him like moths to a flame, haha, and he created an absolutely gigantic fireball that blew out the side of the barn and set fire to the adjoining field."

Erd paused and stroked his brother's hair, still smiling as Ard protested against the action even in his sleep.

"That was it, really," he continued. "Our parents took one look at us, came to a silent agreement and took us far out into the woods, blindfolding us so we wouldn't know which way to go and tying us up so we wouldn't be able to follow them back."

"That's awful," Sheik said.

"Not as awful as the next few days," Erd said. "We had just turned six, and we knew nothing of how to survive on our own in the forest. We got lost. Ard was a mess, he kept blaming himself for our situation, but I think we both knew it was bound to happen sooner or later. We were thirsty, we were hungry, and at one point we were being tracked by a pack of wolves. They were going to finish us off on the fifth day, but then...a voice called out, and we ran towards it, not caring who the owner was. The wolves were hot on our heels, and then we burst out from among the trees, and we came across General Riveth and her army of exiles. Turns out that it was _her_ voice we'd heard, angrily scolding a supply officer who had misunderstood an order or something like that. The wolves backed off, but now we were suddenly the objects of interest in the middle of a camp of eight-hundred soldiers."

"What happened?"

"We were terrified, naturally," Erd said. "And when Riveth stepped forward to ask us who the hell we were, Ard's survival instincts took over, and he produced another fireball. It dissipated before it could do any damage, luckily, and while the rest of the camp became wary of us, Riveth simply smiled, as if she understood what we had gone through. And that was it, really. She took us in. Fed us, clothed us, and loved us like we were her own. I still do not understand why, but...I'm glad she did. She sent for books about magic, taught us how to read them and let us practice and gain control of our powers. In return, we swore to protect her with our lives. It was the least we could do in return for everything she did."

Sheik didn't know what to say. He usually didn't in these cases. Instead, he only nodded in understanding.

"We owe her everything," Erd said, tightening the grip on his brother as another pained scream from the general in question could be heard. "It was just a flesh wound, but it still hurts to know she's in pain..."

Neither of them said anything for a few minutes.

"He doesn't hate you, you know."

"What?"

"Ard. He doesn't hate you. He's just afraid of whatever's inside you and the threat it could pose against Riveth." He smiled. "In fact, Ard's quite curious about you, but he's too shy and proud to allow himself to speak to you normally."

Sheik suddenly felt embarrassed. He'd been so certain that Ard despised him that he hadn't felt any guilt for disliking the youth just as much back, but now...

"Well, the...creature inside me does not seem to have any interest in harming your general," he said, side-stepping the like issue completely. "It only likes to torment _me_ in general. You can tell him that."

"I'd prefer if you told him yourself," Erd said. He looked like he was about to say something more, but clamped his mouth shut. Sheik gave him a questioning glance, and his resolve seemed to break. "What...what exactly is inside you?" he asked. "I can only sense it as a black, malicious mass. I can't pinpoint a form or anything, and it resists any prodding."

"It's...a long story," Sheik said, not really wanting to get into it all again. "But it is ancient, and angry. At one point, I thought we had destroyed it, but it was wilier than we thought..."

"It clings to you, I've noticed," Erd said. "It's like it's festering inside..."

"It certainly feels that way sometimes," Sheik admitted.

"Do you want it gone?"

"Nothing would make me happier...apart from seeing my friends again, of course."

Erd looked uncertain for a few seconds, but then a grim determination came to his face. "We do not know how to destroy it," he began, causing Sheik to focus entirely on him. "But...with proper preparation, I think...I think Ard and I can contain it, prevent it from actually doing anything to harm you or anyone else."

Sheik raised an eyebrow. "Why would you do something like that for someone you barely know?"

Erd shrugged. "You strike me as someone we can trust. And I do believe we owe you one for saving sleepyhead here."

Sheik scratched his neck. It would certainly be nice to not have to listen to Speil's ramblings and to be certain that it would never be able to harm anyone, even if it meant having to be its prison. Link's face flashed in his mind's eye, and he made a decision.

"All right, I'm certainly willing to try," he said, nodding to Erd. "When do we start?"

* * *

"A good night's work, I'd say," the geriatric councillor said from behind his desk. Unlike so many other bureaucrats, who liked to draw focus to how much they toiled away for the benefit of the people whom they worked for (which was usually a lie) by stacking piles upon piles of papers on and around their workspace, Rehm kept his immaculately clean, almost to the point where it looked empty. It made Agon nervous where he stood, because it demonstrated that Rehm was beyond all pretence now. The charade was over. The councillor beamed at him. "Wouldn't you say, general?" he asked.

Agon cleared his throat, trying to keep himself from jumping at every little mechanical pop or grinding noise that issued forth from the metallic skeleton around him. He didn't like _The Chimera_. He didn't like the idea of being suspended far above the ground with nothing but a bit of gas and cloth to keep him from becoming a patch of bloody mush. Rehm had insisted on meeting him here, in the king's cabin, which he had commandeered for himself. No one was about to argue. He was on _the king's_ business, after all. The general had tried his best to make the councillor meet him down on the ground, but they were supposedly on a tight schedule and would only be able to stay there for another twenty minutes or so, after which they would be forced to head to the nearest refuelling station. He had been slightly disappointed by the fact that he wouldn't be able to see Rehm try his hand at climbing down the rope ladder.

"General?" Rehm repeated, giving him an innocuous yet pointed look. "Don't you agree?"

"Yes, sir," Agon replied, feeling awkward. He was out of his element, far away from his comfort zone. It was not just because of the fact that he was standing in the heart of this mechanical monster, but also because Rehm's demeanour had changed drastically from the last time they'd spoken. "A-a successful campaign."

Rehm grinned. "Successful does not even begin to describe tonight's triumph," he said happily. "Not only have we vanquished most, if not all, of the traitorous General Riveth's army and her pathetic rebellion, but we have also finally field-tested this magnificent warship." He stomped a foot on the wood-panelled floor for emphasis. " _And_ we have redeemed you and your name in the eyes of the king! All the while removing those...undesirable elements of your army," he added.

Agon sighed. "That is only if the king accepts your, quite frankly, cock-and-bull story." He linked his fingers behind his back, trying to look anywhere but into the older man's face.

There had always been a certain...thoughtfulness to Rehm's face, a look that told everyone that, while he seemed pleasant on the surface, he was always thinking, planning, analysing, strategising and scheming on the inside. But now...now he looked like a predator that was closing in on its prey. It was as if some dam behind his eyes had burst, spilling forth all the of the councillor's intentions.

"Cock-and-bull story?" Rehm asked, almost sounding offended. "Hardly. News does not travel fast during wartime, general. How were we to know that the men who carried out the sacking of those villages were actually Riveth's? That you had headed out to avenge those innocent deaths personally? That I only arrived just in time to aid you in your quest to defeat her rebellion before it even started?"

Agon sighed inwardly. There was no way in the nine hells that Victor, naïve as he was, would believe that claptrap. Rehm was by no means a _brilliant_ schemer, but this was probably one of the worst plans he had ever had.

"He won't fall for it," the general repeated, aware that the temperature in the room was dropping rapidly, the councillor's gaze hardening considerably. "We'd be lucky if he didn't have us both arrested." There was no choice but to push on. He hadn't climbed his way to the rank of general by not voicing his thoughts and opinions.

"Arrested?" Rehm asked.

"For everything," Agon said, shrugging. "The plan, the Royal Guard, the villages..."

"But Riveth burned those villages—"Rehm began.

"Be honest when you're talking to me!" Agon bellowed, surprising both the councillor and himself. "At least show me that courtesy!" He had no idea where that had come from, and he felt his stomach give a lurch when he realised he'd just shouted at Rehm. Unable to look at anything but his feet, he cleared his throat again and muttered, "If we cannot remain truthful around each other, then our plans will surely fail." He hoped it was enough of a recovery.

Rehm sighed. "Very well, general. Yes, King Victor certainly has more than enough reasons to have us arrested, and perhaps proof. But I think he also realises just how dangerous it would be to...reveal our actions to the general public." The councillor rose from his chair and walked over to the porthole behind the desk, looking out into the darkness. "Loose lips, and all that. He knows that if he publicises _our_ actions, we will publicise _his_. King or not, he still...well, I think you know what I mean."

Agon kept his mouth shut, unable to tell if the slight quiver in the old man's voice was one of rage or amusement.

"We will most certainly be punished for our crimes," Rehm mused. "But so will he. And I do not believe our dear little Victor wishes to die just yet. In fact, it would not surprise me if the fool still thinks he can fix everything, that he can right all those wrongs."

"A-and if he doesn't?" Agon asked, finally able to use his voice.

Rehm remained silent for a few seconds before turning around and flashing the general the nastiest grin he had seen yet. "Then we will remove him. The only reason he is still alive is because of that damned decree, but that particular problem can still be overcome without his assistance...though it would be costly."

Agon gulped. This was all getting too big for his tastes. He wasn't even sure if he understood Rehm's goals anymore. Then again, the elderly man had never gone and directly told his fellow conspirators what his personal stake and gain in all this was. At first, Agon had assumed the man simply wanted the throne for himself, which was an understandable desire. Who wouldn't want to be king? Agon didn't, but he considered himself a man of simple taste anyway, and he knew firsthand the kind of shit someone of such a high status had to deal with on a daily basis—and he highly doubted he'd have the patience for it. But now it seemed that Rehm was far more interested in what was inside Prison's Peak than anything else, his insistence on having the mines there reopened and the Silver Guard removed growing stronger and stronger.

The Enlightened One? Children's stories. Old wives' tales. Fiction. Complete and utter bullshit. That was how the general looked at it. But Marlotta and Rehm seemed to be completely enamoured with the story. Having two grown adults like that, who believed in fairy tales, in control of a country? It was a worrying thought.

Clearing his throat for the third and final time, Agon saluted. "I believe I have taken up enough of your time, councillor," he said smartly.

Rehm blinked in confusion, but eventually nodded. "You wish to leave, general? Very well, the door is behind you. I will convey your gravest apologies for not telling anyone what you were doing up here to the king and have him restore your rank and remove you from the list of wanted criminals." He nodded again, as if urging Agon to leave. "And remember," he said just before Agon closed the door behind him, "Do not come back until you have identified Riveth's body."

The general's mind was occupied with worried thoughts as he climbed down the flimsy rope ladder to the ground. There'd been no time to build a ramp for the airship this time. Luckily, he had removed his armour before climbing up, so at least the rope wasn't about to snap under his weight. He returned to his men and ordered them to continue the search for the remains of Riveth's army while checking every single body on the battlefield to see if she had fallen there. Well over a thousand men and women had died that night, most of them because of the airship's fearsome weaponry.

Agon did his best not to look at the torn and twisted bodies scattered across the muddy field as he headed towards his tent. He shuddered as he stepped in something that made a very unpleasant squishing sound, but avoided looking down. The aforementioned tent was covered in mud and blood, a consequence of dragging it across the battlefield, but he didn't care at the moment. All he wanted was to be alone, just for a few minutes. He dismissed his officers and closed the flaps behind him, sinking onto his cot after kicking off his boots.

Logistics were a nightmare at the moment, he decided. He'd marched the army carrying nothing but the absolute essential of supplies. They were out of food and water. Naturally, he'd had supply convoys set out after them at a slower pace, but they wouldn't be here for days...or even weeks! And he highly doubted they'd be able to gather anything from the surroundings. Riveth had chosen her battlefield well—a bare piece of rock smack-dab in the middle of nowhere, ensuring that unless he could come up with something, this victory would be a pyrrhic one.

At least I managed to weed out the dissenters, he thought to himself. They'd been the first to go, in fact. He'd rearranged the companies, gathering all those whose loyalties were in doubt as well as those he suspected of being the king's hidden observers. He had hoped they'd destroy themselves against Riveth's frontline, but having _The Chimera_ eliminate them all in one fell swoop...it was like a dream come true. After explaining what had happened to the other men, they'd quickly fallen in line, and Agon did not doubt that he was currently in command of the most loyal army in the world. They had to be, or the brass-and-steel monster would come for them as well.

Things were going well. They'd hit a few snags along the way, but those could easily be solved. Agon was not much of a multi-tasker—he preferred dealing with things one by one. He enjoyed arranging and ordering issues by how urgent they were. At the moment, food and water were at the top of his list. Finding and identifying Riveth's body was at the bottom. And that was how he was planning on dealing with everything.

And yet, a kernel of doubt was currently gnawing its way through his stomach.

Did I pick the wrong side?

* * *

General Agon never noticed the pitter-patter of unshod feet hurrying away from him when he left Rehm's cabin. He never saw the councillor's new assistant—a young teenage boy named Leonard, apparently—whom he'd been briefly introduced to upon boarding the airship, running as fast as he could to his own cabin.

Leonard's heart was beating wildly as he entered the small domicile, the meeting that he had just eavesdropped on having filled him with dread. His hands shook as he tried to open the inkwell on his desk. Victor had to know about this immediately!

As he filled his fountain pen and wrote shakily, reporting everything that he had learned while listening in on Rehm and Agon's meeting, he began to wonder what the councillor had meant by Victor's crimes. As far as he could tell, the king wouldn't be able to hurt a fly without feeling immensely guilty, and to imagine him knowingly committing terrible acts was almost impossible. The way those mismatched eyes lit up whenever Victor smiled was an amazing sight to behold, and Len simply couldn't connect the face to criminality. It was like pointing at a fawn and accusing it of committing genocide!

They were lying, he decided. There was no way the Victor he knew would be involved in anything heinous!

He finished his report and sealed it with wax, stamping it with the royal seal. He did not write anything on the envelope. Handwriting could be identified, and the seal would ensure that only those who were meant to see it would open it.

The airship was already on its way back south by the time he came out on the upper deck, wearing thick clothing to protect him from the freezing wind up there. He'd been given a pair of goggles upon first boarding the ship, the crew insisting that the feeling of dry eyeballs was the most unpleasant in the world, but Leonard preferred to not wear them, thinking they restricted his vision too much. There was just no way he could let himself miss the sight of anything up here, above the clouds, with the moon shining down and lighting up the deck. And down there, far below, the tiny pinpoints of orange lights, the signs of cities and villages slowly passing by. Dry eyes were a small price to pay for the ability to see this wonder.

The airmen toiling on deck paid him little attention—they were too busy with their work. In the short time Leonard had been on the ship, he had never seen a single member of the crew standing idle. There was always something for them to do. If they were not securing the rigging, they were cleaning the deck. If they were not cleaning the decks, they were monitoring dials. If they were not monitoring dials, they were maintaining the guns.

The guns...

Leonard rested his elbows on the portside railing and looked over the side, spotting the now closed gun ports. The carnage from the night before was still fresh in his mind. He'd been there, with Rehm, watching the battle from above before the councillor had ordered the captain to intervene directly. Leonard had watched as the deafening volleys from the airship's guns had reduced the armies below to nothing. It had left him short of breath, his mind racing with the atrocities that could be committed with a weapon of this magnitude. And it was in the hands of a man the king suspected to be a traitor. At least some of Riveth's men had gotten away. The look upon Rehm's face after the ship's captain had told him they had to call off the chase because of the unexpected winds had been terrifying.

Leonard had been sceptical when Rehm invited the supposedly traitorous Agon up for a meeting, but the man had clearly been rehearsing a speech that everyone was supposed to hear as he went on and on about how General Riveth had been behind everything and that the rebellion was now over. Rehm had praised the general and guaranteed his safe passage back to the capital where the king was sure to be overjoyed and perhaps even slightly embarrassed at the misunderstanding that had occurred.

"'s not going to happen now, of course," Leonard whispered to himself, patting his breast pocket where the letter for the king was safely nestled. His words were lost to the roar of the steam engines. When Victor found out about this, heads would roll. Or so Leonard hoped, anyway. He'd testify and gladly see the traitors arrested.

His contact was late. He checked his pocket watch. Five minutes turned to ten minutes, and ten minutes turned to fifteen. By the time he heard footsteps behind him, his nerves were starting to fray. He turned around and looked at the man who had been taking his letters for the king. As usual, he was wrapped from head to toe in thick clothing, obscuring his face and anything else that could be used to identify him.

"You're late!" Leonard said loudly, almost bellowing to make himself heard above the roar of the engines. His contact had not been late so far, and he certainly hoped this wasn't going to become a regular occurrence.

"Apologies!" the contact replied. "Other duties beckoned and I could not afford to blow my cover!" He held out a hand. "Correspondence?" he asked.

Leonard nodded and produced the letter for Victor, handing it over to the disguised man. "This must reach the king within a fortnight!" he declared. "Utmost priority!"

The contact nodded. "It shall be done!"

Leonard nodded as well and turned back to look out across the world, the exchange complete. He had no idea how the contact managed to send the letters away from _The Chimera_ without being noticed, but he supposed that was part of being an informant—the ability to whisk away information with no one knowing. He grimaced at his own thoughts. It had sounded stupid even in his head!

With no warning, a sharp pain erupted at the base of his neck, just below the collar of his jacket. It was like being stung by a bee! He yelped and whirled around, rubbing his neck. What the hell was that? There was a small, raised bump in the skin where the pain had come from, just like an insect bite, but it had felt...sharper than that. But what else could it have been? He looked around; hoping that no one had seen his embarrassing reaction to the sting, and all he could see was the back of his contact as he disappeared below deck on the other side of the ship.

"Must've been a bug that hitched a ride from below," he muttered, still rubbing his neck. The bite was starting to itch already. He shrugged and headed back to his cabin, wondering why the ship was flying so wobbly. There was the usual amount of wind and the ship usually had no trouble with tackling that!

The sweating began by the time he had removed the heavy clothing he used on deck. His stomach began squirming after having his supper. The headache made itself known as he finished writing down the day's report as dictated by Rehm, after which he was dismissed for "looking absolutely dreadful".

By midnight, he was vomiting uncontrollably. He was drenched in sweat and his entire being was filled with a notion of such dread he had never felt before. His head felt like it was the size of the moon and it was impossible to gather his thoughts into coherency and his tongue refused to cooperate, his words coming out as a garbled mess. The ship's doctor monitored him with worry, but without the ability to communicate with his patient, he was left helpless as he watched the teenager slip further and further into dementia while soiling his bunk repeatedly.

At one point, Leonard was certain he saw the form of Rehm standing in the doorway to his cabin, holding a very familiar envelope in his hand.

And that was the last thing he could remember...

* * *

**Soul Remnants  
Chapter 29**

* * *

Secrets can have both negative and positive effects. Or, rather, the act of _keeping_ them can. Even the best of intentions can be negated by the simple event of someone finding out that they were deliberately being kept in the dark. Usually, they respond with anger, perhaps ranting, shouting and screaming. Others brush it off with a smile and go on with their lives, though they will remain resentful for an indeterminate amount of time—perhaps even forever, depending on how deep the grudge reaches. Those who smile and instantly forgive because they realise _and_ understand why they were left out, be it for their own protection or something else, are a rare breed, most likely because there are the same individuals who fall victim to slavers and other predators early in life. A sad fate, when the only thing they do "wrong" is being idealistic...and perhaps a little naïve.

Link—who everyone thought to be a member of the last category—did none of those things. Link fumed and stewed silently in his own anger as he rode ahead of Elenwe and Kafei. First and foremost in his thoughts were the things he was going to do to Speil when the shadow showed itself again. Second were the things he was going to do to Sheik when he found him. Bash his head in and then kiss him all over...or the other way around. Most likely the latter. Blood usually killed the mood, especially on such occasions.

It wasn't Speil's appearance that had him so angry and bitter. He had always had a suspicion that they hadn't seen the last of Link's dark mirror image, had always tried to remain somewhat prepared to kill it again and again, as many times as it would require until its presence was destroyed once and for all. No, it wasn't Speil that had the Hero of Time so riled up, it was the fact that Sheik had _lied_ to him, even after promising that honesty was to be the number one priority from then on.

Secrets, and the lies required to keep them, were an abomination, in Link's mind. Sheik had probably known about Speil for months already, even before they'd been separated. And he'd kept it from his lover. It was so... _infuriating_.

There'd been no lies among the Kokiri...save for that one _big_ one about Link's origins...but then again, that had been kept by the Deku Tree, while the other children of the forest had been kept just as ignorant as Link. The Kokiri had spoken plainly to each other with the honesty only children could bring to bear, which, while not always a pleasant thing, was at least appreciated. It sometimes led to conflict between the green-clad children, but it had always been forgiven in the end. They had always been like that, and would always be like that, for as long as the Lost Woods still stood and their guardian remained.

Link felt a sudden pang of homesickness, wondering how his old friends were doing. They were probably enjoying themselves, playing games and learning about the world from the Deku Sprout, their never-ending curiosity and thirst for knowledge barely being quenched. Maybe they'd opened up to the rest of the kingdom, allowing outsiders into their village...

One face took precedence, however, its owner smiling at Link, her blue eyes twinkling from behind leaf-green bangs.

Saria.

How long had it been since they had spoken last? Too long, Link decided. He patted the pocket on his saddlebag that contained the ocarina and nodded to himself. The next time he had an opportunity, he'd play her song and see if she would still respond to it, even after becoming a sage. He couldn't explain why, but he had a feeling his best friend would respond to his call. Maybe she would have news about Hyrule, about Zelda...maybe even Sheik. Were the sages watching the events in Lumina unfolding? Were they keeping an eye on their old friends? Maybe she'd know for certain exactly where Sheik was!

Thinking about Sheik brought his anger back, and he was back to brooding soon after, mumbling to himself. Oh, yes, the Sheikah was definitely going to be punished when he saw him again...

"So, I never got to ask," Kafei suddenly said loudly from behind him. The purple-haired young man quickly rode up next to Link on his stolen horse (all three horses had been stolen, but since they had been _liberated_ from murderers and thieves, the Hero had gone along with it), a look of curiosity on his face. "What exactly are you to Sheik? And what is Sheik to you?"

Link shrugged. "What do you mean?"

Kafei looked coy, perhaps even coquettish. Link wondered why he knew the word coquettish.

"You know exactly what I mean, Hero," Kafei said. "I get it, Sheik was your guide during the war, and I suppose some bonds of friendship were forged during your ordeals...but your reactions to news about him seem a bit...off, for a simple friendship."

Link felt uncomfortable, wondering if Kafei was simply playing with him or not. Elenwe knew, but had she told him?

He missed the knowing, almost mischievous look the Gerudo sent her partner, which Kafei sent right back.

"You don't have to answer if you don't want to," Kafei said after a few seconds of silence. "But if you're just playing with him—"

"I'm not," Link interrupted him. "I'm not...playing with him. If you can't tell how I feel about him from the way I act, then you are horribly dim-witted." It came out a bit harsher than he intended to. "I don't see how it's any of your business anyway!"

Kafei smiled now, it apparently being the right answer to his question. "I suppose it isn't, but whatever bad blood remains between us, he is still family, and I only want what's best for him."

"You show that in a strange way, allowing him to be imprisoned and all," Link said.

The Sheikah sighed. "Honestly, I'm not sure what I was thinking back then...or what the plan was...or if I even _had_ a plan at all. I suppose I got so excited when I realised he was there...and some resentment from the night I left welled up and...I've no idea."

Link grunted, steering his horse a little away from Kafei's. He didn't enjoy being so close to Sheik's distant cousin at the moment. "Well, this is all your fault."

"I know...but I'm trying to fix it, and I believe that's what counts...or that's what all the stories and fairytales claim, anyway. Not sure how much trust I'd put in them, though."

Link couldn't fault him for that. But at least Kafei was putting an effort into it, and that...he supposed it was somewhere in the territory of admirable, but still...

"Didn't figure you for a sucker for love," Link said suddenly. At Kafei's questioning glance. "I mean, I had to convince Sheik to actually take a chance with me, and Impa...well, Impa's just scary and it's hard to imagine her...er..."

"I don't think you should finish that sentence, or you'll give us all mental scars," Kafei said, shuddering.

Link nodded in agreement while Elenwe just chuckled.

"But you know what I mean, right?" Link asked. "No offense."

"None taken, I suppose," Kafei said amicably. "But you are wrong in your assessment that I do not appreciate love, Hero." He looked hesitant when he spoke next, "The truth is I was engaged to marry to a woman I loved dearly, once."

"What happened?" Link asked, surprised.

Kafei turned his head and pulled his hood back, showing Link his scarred face. "The meteor happened. It struck on the day of our wedding, just hours before the ceremony. We all saw it bearing down on us before it hit the clock tower...I swear, the bastard rock was _grinning_ at the city it was about to flatten."

Link noticed that Elenwe had fallen back a bit, just out of hearing range for Kafei's quiet description of the destruction of Termina's capital. Her eyes were downcast, saddened.

"I don't know how I survived, in the end," Kafei said. "I was injured, burned and could barely walk...but I searched for her in the ruins, desperately digging through the debris, hoping to find some trace of hope that she had survived...but I found nothing. There was nothing left of the city, my fiancée, or the life I had managed to build in Termina."

"W..what did you do?" Link asked.

"I couldn't stay," Kafei said sadly. "It was bad enough that my new home had been utterly destroyed, but knowing that I'd be staying to help rebuild it, but not share it with _her_...it was too much. I decided to leave and met Elenwe on my way out. We decided to join forces...and that was it, really."

No one knew of anything more to say, so they let the sounds of the horses' hooves against the bricked road to take the place of conversation. And then Link asked, "What was her name?"

Kafei smiled wistfully under his hood. "Anju..."

Behind them, Elenwe's nails were digging into her palms and her teeth were grinding together as the space around her heart tightened just a little more...

* * *

Magic is difficult. It requires years of study and effort to wield in an effective manner, and even then it is a challenge not to either turn it on yourself by accident or use a spell that has unfortunate consequences. And this are just the "easy" schools of magic, the elementals, as they were known. Manipulating and summoning fire, water and other things requires mostly raw magical energy and the will to shape it into what you're trying to create. However, teleportation and spells pertaining to the mind or soul...those are what a warlock or witch would refer to as "bleeding impossible". Zelda had used expletives that were a tad cruder...i.e. they'd put a sailor to shame.

Sheik hadn't expected Ard and Erd to immediately get to work on containing Speil. He understood how difficult such magic would be, and the fact that neither of them had received any "real" training under a more experienced sorcerer would only complicate things. He understood that they would need to do research, that they would need to practice and ensure that they had mastered the art before unleashing it on Sheik.

But Sheik hadn't expected the speed at which they did this to be comparable to that of a glacier. It had been two weeks since the failed battle against Agon's forces, and the twins had not even been able to locate the appropriate texts in their books. They had quite an impressive collection, Riveth having spared no expenses in the effort to ensure that the two warlocks learned how to control their powers.

"Gods, I'm hungry," Jeryd complained next to Sheik. "When are those hunters coming back, anyway?"

"If you keep complaining like that, they might elect to stay away forever," Sheik said, giving the human an apologetic look that said he didn't mean it.

Two weeks of running away from Agon's men were eating up the supplies of Riveth's remaining army quickly. Hunting parties were sent out every day, but they barely caught enough prey to feed the soldiers. The army groups had split up into smaller groups and only made contact with each other every few days by way of runners. In theory, it was supposed to make them harder to find and easier to keep supplied, but...it turned out quite different in practice. Two groups had been caught and slaughtered in the first week, leaving six groups of roughly forty to thirty men and women each. Truth be told, they could hardly be called an army anymore.

Riveth was slowly recovering from the wound she'd received during the battle, but had become entirely passive when it came to commanding her men. Rial did his best to pick up the slack, but he was so uncomfortable with the role that his orders never sounded convincing, like he wasn't confident that they were the _right_ orders.

Angen was missing, and so was Sid. The medic-turned-innkeeper had last been seen trying to pull as many injured soldiers off the battlefield as possible after _The Chimera's_ appearance. No one knew if he had been part of the retreat or not. Sid had disappeared in the fighting soon after, though Sheik could easily imagine the man running away after realising all was lost. It was sad to think that away, but one had to remain realistic. He felt a pang of sadness at the thought of Angen...he had saved his life, after all. He hoped the innkeeper had simply been captured or something else. That way, there was still a chance he was alive.

"A fine mess we're in, huh?" Jeryd said.

Sheik nodded tiredly. "And to think I thought things would get better after the trolls..."

"Trolls are about as low as you can sink. That's what I used to think, and yet...here we are." The human poked at the dying campfire with a stick, trying to coax a little more life out of it. "And I can't help but wonder if we'd be better off on our own."

"Hm," Sheik grunted. He had to admit, Riveth and her men were starting to seem more like an obstacle than of any help. What progress could be made when they spent most of their time hiding in the woods than regrouping?

 _Then again,_ he thought, _the Hyrulian Remnant did pretty much the same thing in the Lost Woods, didn't it? But on the other hand, we_ had _been fighting for seven years at that point and we were on our last legs..._ He waited a few seconds to see if the infernal shadow was going to voice its opinion on the matter, but it remained blissfully silent.

That was another problem. Speil had heard the conversation with Erd about containing him, and he was raising hell because of it, constantly shouting at Sheik from within his own head...which was every bit as unpleasant as it sounded. It wore the Sheikah out.

"Mind if I join you?" someone asked, making both Sheik and Jeryd look up. Rial stood there, looking a little embarrassed.

"Go ahead," Jeryd said. "Thought you were enjoying yourself in your tent, though."

Rial looked thankful and seated himself opposite the two. "Not with a grumpy general and angry soldiers constantly hounding you about what to do." He sighed. "This war went south quick."

"If it hadn't been for the airship, you might have been able to pull back without too many losses," Sheik said. "But that battle was lost before it began anyway. I'm sorry to say it, but Riveth overestimated her and her army's abilities."

Rial nodded. "Not just that, but I think she assumed that technology has been standing still since her exile. Or someone made her think so, anyway. I mean, she has a pretty well-developed network of informants, but none of them deemed it necessary to tell her about cannons, for example."

"So...what's going to happen now?" Jeryd asked.

Rial looked despairingly at the ex-clerk. "I've no idea," he said. "Until my aunt comes out of this...rut of hers, we are paralyzed. Without any real orders, all we can do is to continue evading capture by Agon's forces, but there are limits to how long we can run. We need to regroup, gather our forces and come up with another plan, but...the men won't listen to me. They only look to _her_ for leadership, which I understand, I guess, but still..."

"Maybe you should talk to her," Sheik said. "Give her an ultimatum. Snap out of it and start ordering people about, or take a step back and let someone else take the reins."

Rial didn't reply, only looked miserably at the fire. "I thought you two would be gone by now," he said. "I mean, you were only going to accompany the army out of the mountains and then you'd be on your way, right?"

"That was the plan, yes," Sheik said and nodded. "But circumstances have...made us stay a little while longer." He didn't mention Ard and Erd's plan. It would only complicate things. Not that they weren't complicated to begin with, of course, but...

"Well, if things don't start happening here soon, I'd suggest you leave while you still can," Rial said. He stood up, sighing. "Back to getting yelled at, I guess."

They watched him go. Jeryd shook his head. "Now there's someone who doesn't know if he's coming or going..."

Sheik felt sympathetic to the man's plight. Rial was clearly itching to organise things, but when no one wanted to listen to him... _Everyone has their own problems, I guess,_ he thought. And then he looked over at Jeryd, who looked ready to curl into himself as his stomach growled loudly.

 _What's_ your _angle, though?_ he thought. _Assassin, claims he wants to help me for the sole reason of my ethnicity, seems to have no personal interest in the war apart from hating the opposing side's general..._ He knew Jeryd had done absolutely nothing to make Sheik suspect him...but it was the very lack of anything like it that _did_ make him suspicious.

_**Or maybe...he just wants to screw you!** _

_Oh, goody, you're back..._

* * *

"At this point, there is nothing we can do but wait. I have done everything in my power, but without knowing exactly what is wrong, my options are severely limited." The royal physician's face and voice remained completely neutral as he spoke, an ability mastered after years of witnessing misery, sickness and death in the way that only a doctor could. "He seems to be a strong boy, Your Majesty," he continued, "and I believe that he may pull through. We will know more tomorrow."

"Thank you, doctor," Victor said, taking the physician's hand before he had a chance to bow and shook it. "Can I call for you if...if—"

"Certainly, Your Majesty," the elder man said and gave the king a tiny smile. "I will be staying at the inn across the street."

Victor watched him depart from the main hall before quickly hurrying back to his chambers, glaring coldly at his guards before going inside. He didn't trust the new Royal Guard, all of whom were recruited from Agon's army as per the wishes of the council...or the wishes of the council as a result of Rehm's bullying. He shook his head and focused his attention on the occupant of his bed.

"Len..."

The boy was sleeping at the moment, his chest rising and falling slightly, his weak breathing barely making a sound. Victor made his way to the chair next to the bed and sat down, a sinking feeling in his stomach making itself known. This was his fault.

 _The Chimera_ had returned from its search for Agon surprisingly early, but when the first thing to descend the gang plank had been two men carrying Len on a stretcher between them, Victor had immediately realised his plan had gone right down the drain. He'd called for the physician right away and sent away for Len's mother, who had arrived three days later, having ridden non-stop for the city.

While the doctor had done his best to diagnose and treat Len, Victor and the council had been treated to a first-rate performance by Rehm in which he declared Agon to be a hero rather than a traitor, detailing the exploits of the "brave and noble" general as he hunted down and destroyed General Riveth. Victor had met the woman once in his entire life, but his father had never spoken ill of her despite the exile, so Victor had no reason to believe her supposed treason was true.

Rehm wasn't spinning these lies for _him_ ; he was spinning them for everyone else.

And the council had bought them. Or, a majority of the council had. He knew Ise distrusted anything Rehm said, and a few of the other councillors had no love for him either, but the rest...the rest had applauded. _Applauded_! It had made Victor nauseous.

Upon being asked why his assistant was deathly ill, Rehm had claimed it was some sort of exotic disease that was running rampant further north, citing several other sick soldiers as evidence for it.

And they'd bought _that_ too! The frustration made Victor want to bash his head against the wall, screaming against the unfairness of it all.

Instead, he took Leonard's hand and squeezed it lightly, wishing the teenager would wake up and tell him what happened.

The air in his chambers was heavy, and there was a faint smell of vomit in it. Leonard seemed to regain consciousness every few hours, but it was only for expelling the contents of his stomach either from one end or the other, after which he would fall asleep once again. It was such an undignified way to suffer...

His mother was a wreck. Victor had met her on the way out of the chambers a few hours earlier and nearly recoiled in shock. She hadn't been sleeping or eating well, spending hours and hours by her son's side. At that point, Victor had practically ordered her to get some sleep in the guest bedchambers, which she had complied to. The king felt ashamed for having thought of her so negatively the first time they'd met, when he'd believed that she only cared about her son as a way to marrying into power...but now he could see that truly loved him. It was touching. Would _his_ mother have loved him just as much?

He shook his head, banishing such thoughts. They could only lead to more misery. He squeezed Leonard's hand again, and the boy's eyebrow twitched slightly. A groan escaped from his chapped lips as his eyes opened slightly. It took him at least a minute before he was able to focus on the king sitting at his side. "Ha...he...where—"

"Don't speak," Victor said gently, smiling at him. "You're very sick, Len."

"I...know..." His voice was cracked and rough, barely sounding human at all. It took him a lot of effort to speak, the words coming out at a very slow pace. "Where...am...I?"

"You're at the castle," Victor explained. "You were brought here by the airship."

"Oh..."

"How do you feel?" It was such a stupid question, but Victor didn't know what else to ask.

"...awful..."

"The doctor says you will pull through," Victor said, smiling. He felt bad for decorating the truth...actually, it was downright lying.

"Don't...lie to...me..." Leonard said, finally squeezing back. It was so weak, barely noticeable. "You owe...me...that at...least..."

Victor looked at the sheets of his bed, suddenly finding the weaving of the fabric quite fascinating. When he finally looked up, Leonard was still staring at him with half-lidded eyes. "He...doesn't know if you're going to recover," he admitted. "He d-doesn't know what's wrong with you and without knowing that there's nothing he can do and that leaves us with nothing and..." he trailed off, realising he was starting to babble.

To his credit, Leonard took the news rather well. "Poison," he croaked.

The king winced. He'd had a suspicion about that. "How do you know?" he asked, afraid of the answer.

"Only...option..." Leonard's eyes suddenly widened. "The letter!"

"What letter?"

"My last...report..." His breath came out as gasps now, as if someone was slowly strangling him. "About...Rehm and...Agon..."

Victor frowned. He had never received any of the reports he'd been promised by the young boy. "They must have taken them, Len," he said. "I never got them."

"Doesn't...matter," Leonard growled. His hand scrabbled and pulled at Victor's uniform sleeve, causing the king to lean in closer. "They're...conspiring against...the throne!"

"Rehm and Agon?" Victor asked. Leonard nodded. "I know," he said, surprising the younger. "I've known for quite a while...Marlotta is in on it too, actually..."

"H-how...?" Leonard said, unable to finish the sentence.

"Because...because..." Victor took a deep breath. This was it. "Because...I was part of the conspiracy myself, Len...we plotted against my father, Robar."

Even in his sickly state, Leonard managed to look absolutely shocked, his half-lidded eyes suddenly flaring up. He instantly let go of the king's hand. "Wh...?" It was impossible to tell if it was meant as a "What?" or a "Why?"

"There's no way to justify it," Victor said, unable to look at him. "And I know it doesn't excuse my actions at all, but I was tricked into it. They cornered me, made me see that the kingdom was slowly descending into destitution...and my father wouldn't see it at all." The tightness in his chest grew worse. "I didn't want to do it...but I thought it was the right thing to do...the old king had gone insane and I had to do something...so I approved of his assassination, and blamed it on the visitors from Hyrule." A small sob wracked his frame. "But afterwards...I realised it was all untrue...my father had been slowly poisoned into the deranged mess he had become, by none other than Rehm...but by the time I discovered this, Rehm had systematically eliminated every chance I had of escaping his hold. My father is dead along with my Royal Guard and best friend, General Mirn is away with his army, the council is cowed to Rehm's will...I've nobody left, Len...nobody but you..."

His vision was blurry with tears when he finally dared to look up at Leonard...and found the youth facing away from him. His fears confirmed, he allowed the sadness to overtake him completely, and the king of Lumina started to cry in earnest, burying his face in his hands and sobbing loudly. "I'm so sorry!" he cried out.

He lost track of how long he cried, but by the time Leonard finally turned around to face him again, his voice was almost gone.

"This...is all...your fault," the boy panted. Statement.

Victor nodded. There was no arguing against the truth.

"I'm...here...because...of you..." Another statement.

Another nod.

Leonard made a fist, and then extended his index finger and pointed at Victor. "You...will make...things right...or...or—"

The sentence remained unfinished as he began to cough violently, writhing on the bed. With each cough, there was a retch. After one last, horrible expulsion of air from his lungs, blood flew out from his mouth, staining the white sheet with crimson droplets. Victor reached out to put a reassuring hand on Leonard's shoulder, to comfort the boy, but he slapped it away.

It took him a few minutes to recover from the bout, but Leonard finally looked at Victor, breath rasping weakly in his chest and his face ghostly white, he scowled. "You...will...fix...it...or...I...will never...forgive you!"

Victor nodded fiercely. "I will, I will!"

Leonard reached out a hand. "Promise!"

The king took the hand and squeezed as hard as he dared. "I promise you—no, I swear! I swear to you that I will right every wrong, make up for every mistake and-and make it all better!" It was a pathetic oath. Badly worded, hardly fitting for a king. But the small smile on Leonard's face told Victor that it was enough.

"Good," he rasped, squeezing back. "Never too...late for...redemption..." His grip grew weaker by the second, and Victor's tears began flowing anew when he realised what was happening.

"Please," he whispered. "Don't go..."

"Have...to..." Leonard replied, coughing. "Please...tell my mother and...Onar that I...love them..."

"Please..."

"Goodbye, Victor..."

The boy's grip slackened completely, and his jaw relaxed, dropping an inch. His eyes became dull, fixed on nothing. His final breath escaped from his body, almost sounding like a sigh of relief than the quiet wheeze of death. And then he was gone.

And something broke inside King Victor.

* * *

The cause of Leonard's passing was a massive internal bleeding according to the physician. He had seen them during the boy's last examination, which led him to believe that it had started soon after he had left, right when Victor had sat down by him. Nothing could have saved him. The cause of said bleeding had the physician stumped, however, and Rehm's less-than-believable description of the supposed disease that had afflicted Leonard only confused him more. No such disease existed, and he eventually arrived at the same conclusion Victor had: Poison.

Baroness Denal was inconsolable the first two days after her son's death, locking herself in the guest bedchambers, refusing to see anyone or even eat. Victor was not much better off, and he would've liked nothing better than to lock himself away and process his sadness, grief, anger and guilt in isolation, but kingly duties do not rest just because the king did. Or wanted to.

It was during dinner on the third day that the baroness finally emerged from her chambers. Victor had retreated to what had once been his father's study to take his meal, and was not surprised when she knocked on the door. He told the guards to let her in.

"Your Majesty," she said, beginning a curtsy that Victor quickly waved off before offering her a chair. "Thank you," she said, "for your hospitality these past few weeks...and for taking care of my son."

"It was the least I could do," Victor said earnestly. "Leonard is...was my friend."

"I'm afraid I have been very impolite, locking myself away like I did..." The baroness tried to look embarrassed, but the only thing Victor saw was the exhaustion of grief. He was pretty sure he wore the same expression himself. He shook his head.

"Not at all, Baroness," he replied. "I would have done the same thing...in fact, I tried to, but my court would not let me."

She laughed a little at that, but it sounded tired. "No rest for the highborn, is it?"

"Never," Victor replied with a small smile. He leaned forward in his chair. "Baroness, I cannot even begin to describe how sorry I am for your loss. Leonard was a wonderful young man, and his death is a loss to the entire kingdom, one which can never be replaced. Before he died, he told me to tell you that he loved you and Onar above anything else. Those were his last words."

The baroness took it impressively, nodding. "Thank you, Your Majesty...I'm sure Onar will be happy to hear that."

Victor cocked his head slightly to the side. "May I ask...who—"

"His lover, Your Majesty," the baroness replied with a smile. "He is a stable boy at my estate."

"Ah. Will you give him my best when you see him, and my condolences?"

"Certainly, Your Majesty."

"Please, call me Victor. Protocol means nothing right now."

"As you wish, Victor."

She took to the informal use of his name much quicker than her son had, Victor noted with sadness. They spent the next fifteen minutes in complete silence, both lost in their own thoughts about Leonard.

Victor had been to the room where Leonard's body was being kept until his mother took it home for the burial, expecting to be overcome by grief. But upon seeing the body, all wrapped up in pure and white linen, he had only been filled with rage. A white-hot ball of flame had settled in the pit of his stomach, and all other sounds had been drowned out by the loud thumping in his ears. Enough people had died because of him. He had been too careful, too obvious. But a new plan had started to form in the young king's mind, and he realised that this was his last shot. If it didn't work, Rehm would probably find a way to put an end to him without losing face or power. And now was the time to start it.

He cleared his throat and looked at the baroness, who focused her attention on him. "I cannot give you your son back, baroness," he began. "But I _can_ offer you the next best thing."

"And that is?" she asked.

"Vengeance. Retribution. Justice."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm saying that I have a plan for ensuring that those responsible for Leonard's death receive their just and well-deserved punishment—death."

"Responsible...?" The baroness asked. "I thought he died from a sickness..."

"No, he was poisoned," Victor said. "And I know who did it."

The woman's eyes had hardened now, the prospect of her son having been murdered turning her gaze into ice. "Who?" she asked.

"I cannot tell you just yet," Victor said, almost wincing when her gaze grew even colder. "I need you to do me a favour."

"And then you will tell me?" she asked, plans for torturing those who killed her boy undoubtedly already forming in her mind. This was a completely different creature to the power-hungry noblewoman Victor had met all those months ago during the festival.

"Then I will tell you," Victor confirmed with a nod.

"Tell me what I have to do, Victor." It was almost thrilling to hear his name being spoken with such force.

"I need you to gather all the nobles in Lumina who employ household guards and private armies. Anyone who commands combat-ready men. All of whom are loyal to me, and not the council."

"I don't understand," the baroness said, "are you saying you don't trust the council? Are _they_ behind the—"

"Not all of them," Victor said hurriedly. "But I don't know which ones I can trust except for one, Councillor Ise."

"I understand. So, gather the nobles who are loyal to you alone...where?"

"Somewhere it won't be strange for so many nobles to gather at once," Victor said. "But not here at the castle. Perhaps at a wedding."

"There are no weddings among the nobles coming up for months—"

"Then a tournament, I do not care," Victor continued, excited now. He had expected to have to convince the woman a bit more. "It does not matter the occasion, I just need all the loyal nobles in one room where I can speak to them in private. Can you do that for me, Baroness Denal?" He looked at her with pleading eyes.

"I could easily say no, demand that you tell me who killed my son before agreeing to do it," the baroness said threateningly, to which Victor nodded.

"You could," he agreed. "But I am a man of honour, and can assure you that I will tell you."

She thought for a few moments, before nodding solemnly. "Your Majesty, I will see what I can do about gathering the nobles immediately." They shook hands. "But you had better come through on your part."

"I will, baroness," Victor said. "I will even tell you the first name: Agon."

"That bastard!" she exclaimed.

Victor winced. "Indeed he is, but I beg of you, please leave it to me to apprehend and punish him, baroness."

"Tch, fine," the baroness said, nodding. All pretence of nobility was gone now, leaving the angry, bereaved woman with a thirst for vengeance bare for the entire world to see. It was a frightening sight. "By the end of the month, you will have your gathering, Your Majesty."

"Thank you, Baroness Denal."

And with that, the wheels of war began to spin in earnest.

* * *

**Soul Remnants  
Chapter 30**

* * *

It never occurred to Sheik that he was going about everything the wrong way. Nor did the insanity of what he was going to let the twins do to him. Or, it did, but he chose to ignore it in the way he couldn't ignore Speil's voice in his head. He couldn't stand it anymore! If the only way to shut the shadow up was to seal it deep within himself, where it couldn't hurt him or anyone else, then so be it.

But that wasn't the issue at hand. No, what was currently on his mind was how stupid he had been all along! He and Link (if the Hero was still alive, that is, which Sheik had no trouble believing. Link was built like a mountain, after all) were currently separated by Goddesses knew how many miles of more or less hostile lands. What was an effective way of communicating across such distances and under such conditions? Carrier birds. And Sheik had stupidly sent Kaiza to Zelda _first_ rather than sending her to find Link. Of all the stupid, short-sighted and downright _idiotic_ things he'd done, this was definitely in the top three!

He wanted to slap himself for his own stupidity, but that wouldn't look good in public, so he settled for growling quietly to himself, which scared Jeryd to no uncertain degree because their bedrolls were right next to each other—to preserve heat, according to the other assassin. That had been embarrassing to explain. To his credit, Jeryd had no problem with honesty and quickly informed him that yes, he had indeed been stupid about it and should feel ashamed, after which he had grinned at the Sheikah and told him not to worry, he could send Kaiza to find Link when she delivered the next letter from the princess. Plus, Jeryd hadn't exactly been smart enough to suggest it himself, so they were both pretty damn dumb.

Sheik had chuckled at that, and Jeryd had grinned triumphantly before diving back under his covers, trying to escape the shiver-inducing night air. Sheik remained sitting upright for a little while, watching his breath turning to fog. Winter was coming, it seemed. Autumn had been wet, but at least the temperature had remained somewhat tolerable. If it started to snow, however... Riveth and her army were not equipped for such conditions, and they wouldn't last a week out here if the very frequent precipitation began to freeze. Not that they seemed likely to make it at all, considering the fact that the general had sunk into a deep depression and no amount of gentle coaxing or harsh yelling from her nephew would pull her out of the spiral of despair.

 _Maybe we should leave,_ he thought. _Jeryd and I could slip away in the night, abandon this sinking ship before it drags us down with it. It would certainly speed up the process to find the Hero…_

 _ **Would that be before or after you seal me away, runt?**_ Speil's voice grunted. It sounded tired. As if the shadow had to expend a lot of energy just to speak. _**It'd better be before, or I will make your life a living hell…**_

 _You've already managed to do that quite well, thank you very much,_ Sheik thought back. _Not a day goes by without me wishing I'd never met you. You sound exhausted, by the way._ It was only a statement, no concern involved.

He expected yet another mocking reply, or a death threat. Instead, Speil chuckled. _**I**_ **am** _ **exhausted, runt,**_ it replied, using its new nickname for Sheik for all its worth. _**Talking to you is tiring these days…**_

 _Oh, I'm sorry,_ Sheik thought, making sure that his mental voice sounded as acidic and sarcastic as possible. _I had_ no _idea living inside me made you so miserable!_ Please _, do not hesitate to leave forever!_

Another chuckle, accompanied by what could only be described as a hum. _**Mmm, nothing would please me more, but there are…obstacles in the way. I underestimated you, it seems…but that wouldn't be the first time, would it, pet?**_

 _What do you mean?_ Sheik asked.

 _ **Wouldn't**_ **you** _ **like to know?**_ Speil said before the pressure behind Sheik's eyes that characterised the shadow's presence in his head faded away, signalling that it had gone dormant again.

 _Bugger you, then!_ Sheik mentally shouted, annoyed. He found himself shivering, realising that he'd been so occupied with talking to the shadow that he'd forgotten to crawl back under his covers, which he promptly did, his teeth chattering slightly.

There was no sleep to be had that night. Between the coldness of the night, the discomfort of the worn bedroll, the constant noise of soldiers around them and the thoughts that kept poking at Sheik's mind, it was impossible for the comforting embrace of sleep to engulf him. Jeryd's loud snoring didn't help either. Sheik envied the older man's ability to just turn off and on seemingly on command. Eventually, he settled for closing his eyes and attempting to meditate instead. It wasn't nearly as effective as real sleep, especially lying down like this, but at least it helped him settle the chaos in his head a little. He focused on his breathing, slowly letting the gentle rush of air in and out of his lungs steal his consciousness away.

He must have laid there for three hours at the least before soft footsteps slowly approaching them roused Sheik from the peaceful trance he had finally managed to fall into. His hand went reflexively for a dagger, but it found none where the holster on his thigh should have been, groping uselessly in thin air. He then realised what he was doing and clenched his fists, feeling slightly foolish for being so nervous, but all that was forgotten when Erd suddenly crouched down in his line of sight, a big smile on his face.

"Eureka," the boy whispered.

* * *

General Agon was not pleased. The runner who had just delivered a report from the scouting parties searching for the remainder of Riveth's army in the woods shook slightly with fear as the general's face became more and more strained with barely controlled anger for every line of squiggly words he read. An angry Agon was a scary sight to behold, especially for someone so young.

"'Can't find them'?" Agon asked slowly as he lowered the paper and glared at the runner. "What do you mean, 'can't find them'?"

The runner swallowed heavily. "W-we've searched high and low, s-sir," he stammered. "I-if Riveth is s-still alive, she's t-taken her army deep into the b-belt of Freyborough."

Agon cursed under his breath, nodding at the terrified young man, who thought that he would perhaps escape this meeting unscathed. He was wrong.

"Well, tell them to keep looking!" Agon bellowed. "If you cannot produce tangible tracks or leads within a week, then don't bother coming back!" The runner nodded and scampered off, whimpering. Agon watched him for a few seconds before snorting with derision and turning his attention back to the field that had been a battlefield not too long ago. There was activity everywhere, and that made him nod with satisfaction.

A gentleman he was not. A good man he was most definitely not. He _was_ a soldier, however, and while it was customary to give it your all to completely and utterly annihilate the other bastard's army during a battle, it was also customary—not to mention respectful—to at least dispose of the dead in a somewhat dignified manner, whether they were your own or not.

Of course, given the current situation, "dignified" became a relative term. It was impossible to give each of the fallen men and women proper funerals, both on account of the weather and the fact that in some cases there wasn't enough left of said men and women to identify and sort into individual graves.

Agon watched as dead soldiers wearing both his and Riveth's colours were carefully lowered into large ditches that had been dug the day before and covered over with cloth—usually taken from the soldiers' own packs. Though they were enemies, Agon felt it would be a breach of the unwritten code not to do them this honour. And, of course, all things considered, _Riveth_ had been in the right here, not him.

He glanced over to the part of the field where _The Chimera_ had unleashed her deadly bombardment, shuddering at the memory of the noise and sights of that night. They were still digging up and extracting bodies and...parts of them from that section of the field. Agon wondered how many of the soldiers had actually been killed by the blasts and not simply been buried under dirt and mud, slowly suffocating under the bloody remains of what had once been their friends. It caused him to shudder again, and he felt a little sick to his stomach.

What an awful weapon to unleash upon people, he thought. Effective, there was no arguing against that, but awful. He'd seen cannons at work before when the Royal Army had officially adopted them for defending their forts, cities and the capital, but never against _people_. He'd expected them to be flung aside, knocked into the air—perhaps even lose a limb to round shots that did not bury themselves into the ground...but this was completely different. People had been reduced to little more than red stains and puddles on the ground, ripped apart by the sheer kinetic energy of the iron spheres striking the ground next to them.

He sighed, crossing his arms against his chest. He hoped to goodness that, if she had survived, Riveth would disband her units and just stop fighting. There was no winning against the combined might of the Royal Army and the airship. Enough blood had been spilt for this cause already.

Come to think of it, what was _he_ fighting for, anyway? Rehm had shown him a kingdom that was rapidly descending into destitution and poverty. Anarchy would rule once the throne went bankrupt, and that was simply something Agon couldn't stand idly by and let happen. True, he'd been offered rewards in the form of money and land, and that was indeed the root of his motivation, but still...

It didn't feel right anymore. Agon was an opportunist, he would never deny that. If he saw a chance to further his own agenda, he would take it, and he sure as hell wouldn't feel ashamed about it afterwards, even if it meant having to kill someone. One man, two men, three men, sure thing. But hundreds? Thousands? Something in the back of his mind, a part of him that he was certain he'd smothered many years before, kept poking at him, shouting for him to open his eyes and truly see what he was doing. So he had. And now things didn't feel right anymore. But then...he had gone too far, hadn't he? There was no turning back now.

Right?

* * *

"General? General Riveth? Aunt Drena?"

Only the last moniker made Riveth look up at him. A small smile crossed her lips at the sight of her nephew, but it soon faded and she resumed looking at her hands. She rubbed them together fiercely, though whether it was to keep warm or wash off some imaginary blood was impossible to tell.

"How are the men?" she asked quietly, barely above a whisper.

"Fine, for now," Rial said. "They're...listless, though. They don't really know what to do with themselves."

"Ah," Riveth said. And that was it.

Rial stood there for two minutes (he'd counted) before taking the liberty of seating himself beside his aunt by her fire. She was alone, having chased away her officers a few hours before for bothering her. Rial hoped she would listen to her own flesh and blood. She barely acknowledged him sitting down, finding her palms much more interesting.

"So...what's the plan?" he asked in a pleasant, almost jovial tone. He'd gone over this conversation mentally so many times he knew it by heart now. He'd tried so many different variations, but none of them seemed appropriate except this one. "How're we going to get Agon back for what he did?"

Riveth glanced at him, eyes devoid of emotion. "You too?" she asked. She adjusted her sitting position, careful not to upset the healing wound in her side.

"Me too what?" Rial asked, suddenly wary.

"You too are waiting for me to come up with some brilliant plan that would enable us to take back the entire kingdom with less than two hundred men," she clarified, voice rising with a steely edge. "You too expect me to just wave some sort of magic wand and undo everything that happened."

Rial's prepared speech died on his lips when he saw the pained look on his aunt's face. "I...er..."

"I thought I made it quite clear that night that my time as a tactician and leader is over," she said, voice softening. "So many were killed because of my incompetence..."

"It wasn't your fau—"

"Not my fault?" she interrupted him. "Not my fault? Ah, so it _wasn't_ me who marched us out there with too few supplies? It wasn't me who put my men into a formation that was at least ten years old and easy to counter? It wasn't me who didn't give my archers enough time to prepare or enough ammunition to fire at the enemy? It wasn't me who froze completely when that...that _thing_ cracked the sky and blew them all to smithereens?" She was shouting and panting heavily by the end of the tirade, her eyes filled with so much despair that it hurt Rial to look at her.

"I led my men into a trap and I didn't even realise it before it was too late," she continued, voice calm again. "I couldn't beat Agon, a man who I'm sure has less intelligence than a troll, and was routed into this miserable forest while we're standing at winter's door..."

She didn't cry. Drena Riveth had never been the type to do so. She usually channelled her sadness into something useful, like anger. She had always been like that, as far as Rial could remember. That was why it shocked him to the core when Riveth turned her head to look at him, revealing wet eyes that threatened to spill over at any second. It was such a flabbergasting sight that, operating on pure reflexes at that point, Rial took her into his arms and hugged her tightly, letting the general weep into his shoulder. He thanked the Goddesses he didn't believe in for the fact that no one could see them behind tent cloth that had been stretched between two trees to provide the general with some privacy. If the rest of her army had seen her now, they would probably be so demoralised that they'd surrender on the spot.

Drena Riveth didn't cry. And when she _did_ , it didn't last for long. After a few minutes of silent sobbing, she pulled out of Rial's hold and wiped the tears from her face before refocusing on her nephew with hard eyes.

"I'm finished as a general," she said. It was not a statement made to elicit protests. It was just that, a statement. So Rial didn't say anything, only stared at her. "I need a replacement," she said. Rial nodded.

"I'll round up the other officers so you can deci—"he began, but a finger poked him between the eyes.

"It's going to be you, nephew."

"...what?"

* * *

The twins had worked hard on this, Sheik realised. Their tent—one of the few that had miraculously been brought along during the retreat—was littered with books and rolls of parchment. A pair of bedrolls had been tossed into a corner. Only one of them had been slept in by the looks of it.

 _They must have taken turns sleeping and reading,_ Sheik thought, not entirely sure how to feel about it. _I hope they haven't wasted their time..._

Ard was sitting on said bedroll, mask in place but foregoing the hood, leafing through several pages of an ancient-looking tome covered in tears and scratches. He looked up at his brother and Sheik and nodded slightly.

"We finally found it," Erd said happily. "It took us a while, but we found it. The spells were hidden under a completely different category in the oldest book we have. It was written many decades ago, and the warlock responsible clearly didn't want them to be discovered..."

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?" Sheik deadpanned, suddenly feeling apprehensive about this. "If he didn't want them to be found, then surely they can't be safe?"

"Oh, don't worry about that," Erd said, grinning. "Spells like these are difficult to create and even _more_ difficult to write down. I think the warlock just didn't want anyone to steal his tricks."

Sheik felt an urge to back out of this, but Erd grabbed his hand and tugged him over to where Ard was sitting, practically pushing him down next to his brother. He then sat down on Ard's other side and gestured for his twin to show them. Ard opened the book and spread it out across his knees, revealing complex diagrams and line upon line upon _bloody_ _line_ of miniscule, barely legible text written in a language he didn't understand at all.

"What am I looking at?" Sheik asked. Magic had never been his strongest suit. He could do a little, but even Link was more talented at it than him.

"The procedure, of course," Erd said. He pointed to a diagram showing a featureless person sitting in a circle surrounded by complex-looking symbols and intersecting lines. "This circle represents the seal that is going to contain the entity within you," he explained. "According to the text, it is nigh unbreakable by anything less than a god...and even then it's uncertain."

"And it won't be able to...talk to me?" Sheik asked.

"Not unless you want it to. It seems that once the seal has been placed, you have a certain amount of power over it." Erd looked at his brother, seemingly for confirmation, which he got when Ard nodded. Then he looked uncertain. "Does...does it talk to you often?" he asked.

"Probably not as often as it would like," Sheik said, "but it does rear its ugly head from time to time, if only to insult me and make fun of my actions."

"Sounds pretty benign to me," the elder twin said.

"Sure as hell wasn't benign when it was killing my friends," Sheik muttered, to which Erd could only look down at the floor in embarrassment. "Don't worry, I'm not offended," Sheik reassured him. "I'm just saying that you shouldn't underestimate it... It's one hell of a smooth talker and knows exactly what to say to make you drop your guard."

"I see..."

Ard was looking at Sheik with poorly concealed interest. Sheik looked back, wondering if there was a question waiting on the boy's hidden lips, but then Ard huffed and turned his attention back at the book. Erd caught the scene, trying not to laugh.

"So, what happens next?" Sheik asked.

"Now, we prepare," Erd said. "It will take us a few days to read up on the spell, gather supplies and prepare the seal. It must be drawn with absolute precision or it could have adverse effects. At worst, we could blow you into millions of atomised particles, heh."

The amused sound was not appreciated by the Sheikah, and he made this clear by showing the twins the most serious face he could muster. "Is there anything I need to do?" he asked, really starting to have second thoughts about this.

"Not really," Erd said, looking thoughtful. "Or do you? I swear I've forgotten something..."

"Rest," Ard said.

"Ah, yes, rest!" Erd said. "It's important that you are fully refreshed and rested when we go through with the ritual, because it will take quite a lot out of you. Thanks for reminding me." He directed the last part at Ard and ruffled his hair, which made the younger twin huff again with annoyance.

"So...you woke me up just to tell me that you found a spell that won't be ready for another few days?" Sheik said. "It really couldn't have waited until tomorrow? Not that I don't appreciate what you are attempting to do, mind you," he quickly added, trying not to offend the warlocks.

"That's what I said," Erd chirped brightly. "But Ard wanted you to know that we found the spell as soon as possible and wouldn't stop bugging me until I—oof!"

The younger twin chose that moment to elbow his brother in the side and growled quietly, shaking his head.

"What? It's true! Ow! Stop poking me with that spindly arm of yours!"

Sheik couldn't help but grin at the display. So there really was something to what Erd had said to him about his brother being interested in Sheik... It was so typical of boys at that age to try and cover it up, too. It was almost cute. _Almost_. There was something about the younger warlock that grated on Sheik's nerves, though, even with the knowledge he now possessed. Perhaps it was continued attempts to act nonchalant and slightly hostile? He didn't want to speculate, partly because his brain just wasn't up to it at the moment and partly because he was wary of criticising someone who was only two years younger than himself—it would be like throwing rocks in a glass house.

"Anyway, yeah," Erd said after a brief scuffle with Ard. "That's all we wanted to say. You can go back to sleep now if you want to."

"May I see the spell?" Sheik asked, surprising himself with the question. He really just wanted to go back to his bedroll and squeeze in at least one more hour of sleep before another day of utter boredom and borderline starvation. "I mean, I can't do much magic myself, but I can understand the theoretical part."

Erd nodded enthusiastically. "Of course, here!" He all but tore the tome Ard was carefully leafing through out of his hands and handed it to Sheik, eliciting another growl from the younger twin, to which the older only flashed a grin.

Sheik carefully took the offered book and studied it. It seemed quite old, the pages yellow and brittle. The leather binding was faded and torn in several places. There had been a title on the cover once, but it had flaked off at some point. Only the final four letters of the author's first name remained: "...spar". Something seemed familiar about it, and he opened the book and looked through the first couple of pages, trying to find some indication of the writer—

There it was. A quote.

_Death shall set us free_

_So it was written_

_And so shall it be_

-Kaspar

 _Only bloody Vorpheus,_ Sheik thought, realising what he was holding. He looked at Erd. "When was this written, do you reckon?"

"Judging by the state of it...fifty, sixty years, maybe?" Erd said. "It's hard to tell with spell books. I know that the warlock who wrote that was at least a hundred years old when he wrote it, though."

"A hundred and forty or fifty, I'd say," Sheik mumbled. When the twins looked at him questioningly, he sighed. "If the writer is who I think it is then, I met him during the war in Hyrule. Called himself Vorpheus the Immortal."

"What was he like?"

The question was asked with awe. The surprising thing was that it didn't come from Erd, but Ard. He was staring at Sheik with eyes brimming with curiosity. There was the cute part of the teen again.

Sheik considered answering the question with a made-up story about the now-dead warlock, but settled on the truth instead. "He was arrogant, rude, pompous, self-centred and annoying." Both of the boys' faces fell at that, but then Sheik continued: "And I don't think we would have won the war without him. I certainly wouldn't be alive if he hadn't been there."

"He was powerful?" Erd asked.

"Frighteningly so," Sheik answered. "He once blew up a mountain, simply by manipulating the rock itself, just so that he could gain the attention of his granddaughter and make her talk to him." He left out the part where he had intentionally made Millicent sick with the fallout from said mountain.

"So...is he still out there?"

He shook his head. "No, he died during the final battle against Ganondorf and his forces. Took the most dangerous enemy sorceress with him, though."

 _I was certain he said there was only one copy of his spell collection,_ he thought, looking through the pages of the book. Complex diagrams and drawings littered them, and thousands of tiny notes and corrections were nestled among them, pointing out flaws and other faults. _And we burned it. Did he forget about this one? Or did he lie? Or perhaps this is an older journal that he thought he'd destroyed? Or maybe this isn't Vorpheus' at all; perhaps it belonged to some other warlock whose first name was Kaspar..._

It seemed that many of the people Sheik had met during the war had left legacies all over the world. He couldn't decide if that was a good or bad thing.

* * *

"Well, this isn´t good," Kafei deadpanned. His nonchalant attitude was betrayed by his clenched fists, showing the young man´s inner turmoil.

"Not good?" Link exclaimed. "This is a disaster!"

Elenwe remained silent, but her face was stone-like in appearance, her hands resting uselessly against her sides.

They were staring at a battlefield. Or what remained of it, anyway. They had followed the roads as far north as they could get before riding cross-country for a while, emerging from the trees on one of the many hills overlooking the place where two armies had obviously fought. Only one had survived. Soldiers of the Luminan Royal Army were scurrying about down there, digging mass graves. It was a sickening sight.

"Guess they finally found a use for the airship," Elenwe suddenly said, pointing at the craters that littered the field. "Only cannons could make holes like that."

"No wonder this Riveth lost the battle if she had something like that to contend with," Kafei muttered.

Link felt like the ground had dropped from beneath his feet. This was it. This was their last lead on Sheik´s location. His tracks ended here, at a frost-covered piece of muddy land covered in dead bodies. The only question was whether or not his lover was down there as well...

"He´s not dead," Kafei said, making the Hero look up at him.

"What?"

"Sheik´s not dead," the Sheikah clarified.

"How do you know?" Link asked.

"I could ask you how you _don´t,_ " he replied. "Sheik´s a smart boy-he´d know better than to stick around at a battle that his side was losing this disastrously. He probably got the hell out when the first signs of imminent defeat appeared."

That eased Link´s worry a little, if only to clear his head from the many images of the red-eyed boy lyind dead in a muddy hole, covered by other bodies and blood. "Y-you´re right," he said, nodding. "Sheik got out before things turned this bad."

"No doubt about it," Kafei said, nodding.

Elenwe wondered about who was reassuring who here.

"So what do we do?" she asked.

"Well, we have to find out where Sheik went," Link said in a strained manner.

"Obviously, but how?" she continued. "I´ve a feeling the assassins we hired aren´t interested in updating us on Sheik´s location until we´ve paid the debt we´ve worked up lately-"

"Which we can´t because we´ve forfeited our fee for the Robar assassination," Kafei interrupted.

"-so we need to do our own scouting from now on," she finished, not skipping a beat at her partner´s rudeness. "But that will be difficult since there´s only one way down there, and we can´t just traipse into the enemy camp and...and...and that´s exactly what you two want to do, isn´t it?" she finished lamely. Both Link and Kafei´s eyes were filled with the kind of determination that could only lead to trouble, especially when she considered Kafei´s track record, which, by the sound of his stories, Link could easily rival as the most foolhardy collection of stupid plans known to man.

 _Why me?_ she wondered as the three gathered close in order to formulate a plan.

* * *

It wasn't even a plan, for heaven's sake! They'd spent an hour observing and tracking troop movements until darkness fell, and the best they'd come up with was to simply sneak into the camp and look for clues. Link had suggested taking some enemy uniforms, but a mild cough from Kafei along with a pointed look at their rather revealing physical features had made the Hero realise there was no way in hell a Hylian, a Gerudo and a Sheikah would be able to blend in among a camp full of humans. But he was welcome to try, if only to see how many seconds it would take for him to be captured.

So here they were, crawling through the row of bushes that ran along one side of the field, occasionally coming across some horrid reminder of the events that had transpired there. Bloodstains, a torn-off limb or two... Elenwe figured it was sad that none of those things fazed any of them anymore. It was something she had never wanted to get used to.

It was freezing cold, their breaths coming out as fog. She had lost the feeling in her fingers and toes, and she wouldn't have been surprised if it had suddenly started to snow. It didn't however, which was a blessing. It's harder to sneak through an enemy camp if there's a layer of light-reflecting snow on the ground.

They'd left the horses roaming free at the top of the hill, removing their saddles and reins in case the trio didn't come back. No point in torturing innocent animals, after all. They'd also left most of their supplies apart from their weapons and some light snacks.

Link carried his precious ocarina, his sword and the Mirror Shield. Those were the only artefacts he'd brought along from Hyrule. How he wished he'd brought his other tools as well. He'd borrowed a knife from Elenwe's impressive collection of bladed instruments of horror, which was securely fastened to the side of his leg.

Kafei had a long, slender sword that looked remarkably similar to Kazuya, Sheik's ancestral sword, only without the delicate and beautiful markings and carvings, being wholly devoid of any decoration whatsoever. He'd also taken along some smoke bombs and a belt of daggers hidden under his jacket. He'd also hidden a vial filled with some sort of vicious liquid in a secret pocket somewhere on his person, but Elenwe wasn't sure exactly where it was.

She herself had brought her collapsible crossbow, which was currently strapped to her thigh underneath a pair of loose trousers. She also had a scimitar on her back, the only thing she had left of her time with the pirate clan in Termina and a stiletto hidden in a rather...strategic place. A small quiver of bolts for the crossbow was hidden in a small holster at the small of her back.

It didn't take them long to reach the perimeter of Agon's camp. Most of the troops were asleep, either inside tents or by the large fires they had built to keep themselves warm. A few patrolled along the edges, lazily keeping an eye out for intruders.

"Doesn't seem like they're expecting anyone to attack them or anything," Kafei whispered.

They halted behind a pile of soil, putting their backs to it and taking turns peeking out from behind it.

"Guess they're confident after winning the battle," Link whispered back. "I'd be too, if Riveth and her army was the last of the opposition."

"Good thing they're not expecting us, then," Elenwe added. "What do we do about the perimeter guard?" She nodded at the most alert-looking of the guards, a middle-aged man with a serious expression on his face. He clutched his spear tightly and spied intensely into the night.

"He looks fairly static," Kafei said, squinting at the man. "Maybe he'll just stay there and—oh, I was wrong." The guard was suddenly walking back and forth along his route in a very quick manner. It was quite comical, it looked he was desperately looking for a toilet due to his stilted posture. The Sheikah looked at Elenwe, who nodded and began to unpack her crossbow.

"Do we really need to kill him?" Link asked, sounding uncertain. "Can't we just...knock him out, or something?"

"If you can manage to get close to him without being spotted, be my guest," Kafei said. "But don't expect me to hold my breath."

Link looked annoyed, but nodded and unstrapped his shield from his back. "Hold on to this, if you would be so kind," he said and slid out from behind the stacked soil, keeping low as he crawled into one of the craters.

"Think this is a good idea?" Elenwe asked, tightening the string of the bow and slotting a bolt into it. "He might give us all away." She liked the Hero, there was no doubt about that, but he had never really struck her as someone of the surreptitious persuasion.

"He's the Hero of Time," Kafei said, keeping an eye on Link as he got closer and closer to the guard, all the while making sure that none of the other sentries were having ideas of actually doing their jobs. "Chosen one of the Goddesses. Surely he can handle a little sneaking."

"You were raised and live in the shadows, why aren't you doing it? You're certainly good enough at skulking," she said nastily.

If Kafei was offended, he didn't show it. "What can I say? I want to see what he can do. Be ready to take the guard out, though, just in case."

She fumed silently at the lack of acknowledgement of her insult, but nodded and took aim at the soldier, mentally calculating and compensating for the conditions. Slight wind from the west, the crossbow pulled a little to the left...it was night time, which meant that the range was a bit of a challenge to work out, but she was certain she'd gotten it right. A slight pull at the trigger, now, and the guy would have a bolt sticking out of his eye. She left her finger off it, though, waiting.

The Hero was surprisingly skilled at blending in with the environment and moving silently, she thought after a few minutes of watching Link quietly creeping towards the guard. She nearly applauded when, after a brief second of hesitation, he hurled himself into another crater when the guard suddenly turned to look in his direction. It was a risky manoeuvre, since such a dive could have made a lot of noise, but Link simply skilfully rolled upon hitting the ground, transferring the impact along the soil, barely making a sound.

"Told you," Kafei said, undoubtedly flashing a shit-eating grin at her.

When Link finally drew his sword and slammed the pommel of it into the back of the guard's head and quickly dragged his unconscious body into the same crater he'd dived for, Elenwe felt stupid for doubting his abilities. She made a note to apologise to him later.

They regrouped and then spent the next half hour slowly crawling through the camp, trying to learn as much about the battle and the results as they could. There was no information on Sheik or any of those he'd been travelling with, unfortunately. They met up behind a supply cart that was remarkably empty for such a large army, no wiser than they had been upon arriving.

"What now?" Link asked, looking disappointed.

"Look for more clues, listen to more conversations," Elenwe said. "Or we could kidnap someone and interrogate them."

"Would give away our presence," Kafei said.

"How about we just ask someone, then?"

"I'll pretend you didn't say that."

"No, she might be on to something there," Link said, pointing at the biggest tent, covered in coats of arms. "Maybe someone in there will know."

Kafei shook his head. "That would be Agon's tent, I believe. You actually think going inside there and simply asking where Sheik is would be a good idea?"

"We can continue to crawl around the camp for a while instead, if you want," Link replied. "But if anyone knows if Sheik di...if he didn't make it out, it would be him." He choked on the word _died_. He couldn't let himself think that. Not _now_.

Elenwe observed Kafei's partially hidden face, watching the conflict raging within the purple-haired man. She knew he was just as anxious to find Sheik as Link, but he was trying to remain composed at the same time, and the two sides were pulling him in different directions. Finally, he gritted his teeth and nodded.

"Fine," he said. "Let's go poke the lion in its den. Let me do the talking, though. I've met Agon before; he seems to less of the thinking kind and more of the doing kind. That makes him both predictable and _un_ predictable at the same time."

"Meaning?" Link wondered.

"Meaning he'll most likely try to alert his guards," Elenwe answered. "We just don't know when or how he'll do it."

"Seems to be a pretty standard reaction to me," Link said, unconvinced. "What other ways are there to do it than shouting?"

"Dunno," Elenwe replied. "But it still doesn't mean we should underestimate him."

"Right, let's get this over with before I regret agreeing to it," Kafei said.

Elenwe didn't think much of this Agon character's intelligence based on the evidence she'd seen so far. He had not posted any guards outside his tent, and it had been erected in a very secluded spot. No one would have been able to see them enter it from the front entrance if they'd chosen to do. Of course, they weren't stupid, so Elenwe had quietly cut the cloth in the back, making an opening just big enough to peek inside the tent. It was dark, and the sound of steady breathing could be heard.

She signalled to Link and Kafei, putting her hands together and laying her cheek on them. _He's asleep_.

Kafei and Link nodded, the Sheikah making a swimming-like motion with his hands.

 _Make the hole bigger_.

She nodded back and cut a bigger hole into the cloth, stretching it just wide enough to allow them to squeeze through.

The interior of the tent was just as cold as the outside. There was no furniture apart from a chest and the small cot on which the general was sleeping. There was no stove or burner, the only thing keeping him from freezing being the thick blanket he was wrapped in. According to the plan, Elenwe crept to the entrance of the tent and tied the flap shut. It wouldn't keep anyone out or in forever, but it would certainly delay them until someone got the bright idea to cut through. Or lift the pegs. Whichever came to mind first.

Kafei took charge, unsheathing a dagger and slowly approaching the sleeping man, preparing to wake him up quietly. Link remained close behind him, a hand resting on his sword's handle, ready for anything.

"Who are you?"

Except for that.

The question shocked all three of the intruders, and nearly caused Link to yelp. Kafei recovered quickly and launched himself at the general, putting his dagger to the man's throat and hissing, "I'm the assassin who's going to slit your throat in a very painful manner if you don't keep your fucking mouth shut."

Agon didn't struggle, surprisingly enough. Instead, he took a deep breath. "Hm, shutting up seems to be a good idea indeed," he whispered.

This wasn't going according to plan at all. Link and Elenwe exchanged worried glances. Agon was supposed to struggle, attempt to shout for his guards, but his calm reaction was...unsettling. And how had he heard them coming in, anyway? They'd been quiet as mice!

"How did you know I was coming?" Kafei hissed.

"I wasn't asleep," Agon answered, remaining perfectly still. "Heard the three of you coming a mile away. The third one should secure his shield better; it's very noisy when knocking against his scabbard."

Link cursed himself mentally. Elenwe quietly slapped her forehead.

"Why didn't you shout for your guards, then?" Kafei asked, still resting his blade against Agon's throat.

"Morbid curiosity?" the man tried. "Maybe I just wanted to see who'd bother coming all the way up here just to kill me?" I don't know, to be honest. There's no need to threaten me with that weapon, you know. I won't shout, I promise."

"You think I'm stupid?"

"No, I think you're an idiot. You all are, sneaking into an enemy camp like this. You must be suicidal, the lot of you."

Kafei growled, and judging by the slight choking sound coming from Agon, must have pressed his blade tighter against his throat. "One more insult and you're a dead man."

"Like Robar? Yes, I recognise your voice, assassin, there's no need to act shocked."

"So, you remember me?"

"How could I not? You made a very...distinct impression. Rehm is quite angry with you, you know, for the way you just left without finishing the job."

"I had a change of heart."

"Undoubtedly. Comes very natural to murderers, that."

"K," Elenwe hissed at her partner.

Kafei shook his head in the dark. "Right, you're going to answer some questions, understand?"

"Seems to be the least I can do, given my current position." It was impossible to see Agon's face in the dark, but the grin could be heard. Link fumed. Why wasn't he taking this seriously?

Kafei growled again. "Where's the Sheikah?" he asked. "We know he was with Riveth's army when you engaged them. Where is he?"

"No idea."

"Then you're of no use to us."

A sharp intake of breath, followed by a feeble "Wait." Agon cleared his throat. "I don't know where the Sheikah is, but if he was with Riveth, then he's most likely somewhere in Freyborough Forest along with the rest of the army. That's where they retreated."

"Freyborough?"

"Just east of here, follow the road and you'll find it."

"And he's there?" Link asked. "You're sure?" It was impossible to keep the hope out of his voice.

"No," Agon replied. "But my men didn't find his body in the field, so he's certainly not here."

The three exchanged glances. "How do I know you're speaking the truth?" Kafei asked.

"You don't," Agon said. "But I've a feeling it's in my best interests to be honest since you seem to be the type that pays back for lies with...well, blood. Usually the liar's." He offered a sardonic chuckle, as if to illustrate some vague point. "No dishonesty among assassins, am I right?"

"I don't appreciate your tone, general," Kafei warned.

"And I don't appreciate having a knife shoved against my throat at this ungodly hour of night in my own bed, but that's life. I've told you what you want to know, now leave before I call my guards and have you all killed."

"Maybe I should just cut your throat and do the kingdom a favour."

"That's a possibility, but I don't think you will." To prove it, Agon grabbed Kafei's wrist with surprising speed and wrenched it away from his throat, pushing the younger man away while making no move to alert the camp. He rubbed the spot where the blade had rested against his skin and glared at the intruders. "Now, since I believe we have an understanding, I suggest you leave. Ten minutes, and then I'll wake up every bastard in this camp and have them hunt you down."

Elenwe nodded to herself. Seemed fair enough, that.

Link looked between them all, more than a little confused. "This is one of the conspirators, right?" he asked. Elenwe nodded. "Making him one of the people responsible for the war, right?" Kafei nodded. "So he's the reason why Sheik went missing in the first place?" Agon nodded. "Then why isn't he dead?"

It was a simple question, and since the Hero made no move to finish the general off himself, Elenwe concluded that he was honest to the Goddesses confused. She didn't blame him. Nothing really made sense anymore.

"Quid pro quo, Hero," Kafei explained, putting his dagger away while keeping a wary eye on the general, who was still simply sitting on his cot. At Link's raised eyebrow, he elaborated, "A favour for a favour. He gives us information, we don't kill him. A fair trade."

"Not really _fair_ ," Agon said, "but yes, something like that."

"One more word from you for the next ten minutes and the deal is off," Kafei shot at him. "Right, we're leaving. Let's go."

* * *

Agon remained on his cot, counting to sixty ten times the second the last of the three intruders had vanished through the hole in his tent. They had guts, he'd give them that. Especially the leader. Honourable, too. That was not the impression he'd made during the meeting in the castle dungeons so many months ago. The Gerudo girl...well, she'd remained too quiet to make a useful analysis. And the Hero character...it was clear that something was going on between him and the Sheikah boy, based on the intensity with which he'd spoken. Sweet, really. He sighed, already regretting the plan he'd come up with during the unorthodox interrogation. It had been more of a trade, really.

He didn't shout for his guards. He merely sent someone to fetch him the officer in charge of his scouts, told him to dispatch a dozen or so to shadow the three and send continual reports. Agon would follow with about three hundred men, more than enough to crush the remnants of Riveth's army.

Then he lay back on his cot, deciding to catch at least one more hour of sleep before marching on again. The supply problem was still rearing its ugly head in the back of his mind, but he didn't care. He had a chance to finish off the budding civil war, after which he could make up his mind about what to do about Rehm. Oh, and deal with the dwindling supplies.

Fate was finally smiling upon him.


	4. Chapter 4

* * *

**Soul Remnants  
Chapter 31**

* * *

About five hours after leaving Agon's camp, after entering the massive forest belt of Freyborough, the trio felt the first flakes of snow land in their hair and on their faces, melting immediately. Despite their protests and prayers, the snowfall continued to thicken, and by the time they felt it was time to find some shelter it was almost impossible to see more than a few feet ahead of them. The wind was starting to pick up, too, and it wasn't hard to imagine that they'd have a fully fledged blizzard on their hands if the development continued.

They scrambled through the trees, trying to find a protected copse or thicket, perhaps even a cave of sorts. No such luck. At least snowdrifts weren't forming just yet. The last thing they needed was to stumble with every other step.

Elenwe noticed him first. As they hurried along the path, she happened to glance behind them, perhaps hoping to see some form of shelter they'd missed. What she saw instead was the faint outline of a person that disappeared faster than she could blink. She paused, staring at the spot the man had been in for a few seconds before growling and running to catch up with Link and Kafei.

"We're being followed," she said, trying to remain quiet while still being heard over the wind.

"I know," Kafei replied. "He's been following us ever since Agon's camp."

"You knew?" Link asked.

"Of course. I expected it, in fact." The Sheikah shook his head. "You really thought he was going to let us go, just like that? Don't be stupid, he's planning to use us to track down Riveth and finish her off once and for all."

Link cursed quietly to himself. He should've known things were too good to be true. He'd thought the general to be a somewhat honourable man, but… Sheik always warned him that his desire to think the best of people was going to be his downfall one day. Seems that he was cutting it pretty close this time.

"So what do we do?" the Hero asked.

"We kill him, of course," Kafei replied, nodding to Elenwe. The Gerudo drew her scimitar and broke off from their little group, disappearing behind a thick-trunked tree. "Keep running, she'll deal with the scout and catch up with us," he told Link.

"Shouldn't we help her?"

"She'd be insulted if we tried."

Elenwe paused behind the tree and crouched down, willing her short, quick breaths to fall silent. Then she perked her ears and listened. Sight couldn't be relied upon in these conditions. Hearing wasn't too reliable either, but it was better than nothing. The wind grew weaker for a few brief moments, but that was all she needed to hear the rapidly approaching footsteps of the running scout. He was panting, struggling to keep up with Link and Kafei. Elenwe readied herself. The scout was going to run right past her hiding spot, dangerously close. Lethally, even.

She gripped her scimitar, counted down from three and stepped out from behind the tree, swinging the blade full-force into the passing scout. It caught him just below his Adam's apple and stopped him dead in his tracks. It had been a clumsy strike, she knew, and the angle had been awkward. The scimitar didn't cut all the way through, was stopped by the scout's vertebrae, or possibly his collar bone. It was hard to tell.

What she could tell was that the scout was done for no matter what. He lay gurgling on the ground, the little snow that had started to blanket the ground beneath him quickly turning red from the blood that was pouring out of his throat and neck. It had taken him completely by surprise judging by the shocked expression on his face—the incomprehension of the fact that something had nearly taken his head off more than evident. Elenwe stared at him for a few seconds, locking eyes with him before the pity overcame her. She raised her scimitar again and finished the job. She then ran in the direction Link and Kafei had gone in, realising that they were starting to leave footprints. Not good.

She never looked back at the dead man in the snow, his head messily separated from his body. She had gotten used to that too. All for _him_.

She caught up with the others a few minutes later. They were waiting for her at a crossroad where the trees seemed to grow thicker, forming a thick roof above their heads. It wasn't enough to keep the snow out, but it sheltered them from the wind, at least.

"Scout?" Kafei asked.

"Dealt with," she replied.

And that was it. They continued further into the forest. Link cut some branches off a tree and used it to cover up their tracks. It wasn't a fool-proof method since he only replaced their footprints with clearly visible drag marks in the snow, but at least it would be covered up quicker than the footprints.

"Did you hide the body?" Kafei asked Elenwe as the Hero remained a few steps behind them to hide their presence. The Gerudo shook her head.

"No, I figured there wasn't enough time. If this weather continues, the snow will take care of it anyway." She realised that she was still holding her bloody scimitar, and immediately went to work cleaning it and replacing it in its scabbard.

"Hm," Kafei grunted and nodded. He turned to Link. "We need to find somewhere dry and out of sight. Come up with a plan. Try to track the army down."

Link agreed. "This place reminds me of the Lost Woods. Lots of caves there. Maybe we'll find some here too."

"Good idea. We'll find one and rest there until daylight. I can see fine but I think you two are going to struggle if it gets any darker further in."

"Can we _please_ get a move on?" Elenwe said after replacing her scimitar on her back. "I'm freezing my ass off!"

They eventually found a small cave—more like a burrow, really—that had clearly once housed some sort of animal judging by the smell. It was still better than freezing outside now that the gentle snowfall had turned into a fully fledged blizzard (judging by the amount of frozen flakes that were falling now), and after Link had gotten a small fire going, it was nearly cosy. Nearly. They had no real food, bedrolls and barely any water at all. The snacks—dried fruit and tough, chewy strips of smoked meat—had all disappeared during their trek through the woods.

But at least they were warm, and that was a small comfort. Kafei had pulled out a small map of Lumina and was currently studying it in the firelight, outlining the truly massive forest they had just entered. It seemed to occupy most of the north-eastern parts of the kingdom, the only thing stopping it from growing even larger being the ever-present mountains surrounding the land.

"It'd be like trying to find a needle in a haystack," Elenwe muttered after Kafei had mapped the route they'd taken so far. "They could be anywhere."

"It's hard to disguise the tracks of a retreating army," Kafei reminded her. "I've seen a few signs of it along our route. Broken branches, flattened ground, small firepits..."

"So did I," Link said. "Pretty sure we passed by a latrine too, if I smelled it correctly." He wrinkled his nose in distaste at the memory. "Nasty."

"So we _are_ on the right route, it seems," Kafei said. "But now that it's snowing..."

"We're pretty much screwed," Elenwe finished.

The Sheikah sighed, nodding. "For now, let's just continue on the path we've followed so far and cross our fingers that the army has been going more or less straight ahead. Maybe we'll encounter some of their scouts."

"Speaking of scouts," Link said, "are we sure the one Elenwe...took care of was the only one?"

"Probably not," Elenwe said, shaking her head. "Scouts work in parties of at least two or more. Why this one was alone I don't know, but you can be sure that his partner or partners won't be far behind. Hopefully, they won't find our footprints."

"What are our options, exactly?" The Hero asked. "We can't lead them to Riveth...it'll end in a bloodbath."

"We'll have to remove them from the equation," Kafei said. "Preferably all at the same time so no one can report back to Agon." He looked down at the map again, frowning. "Bastard," he muttered, "should've slit his throat in the tent. We might not have gotten out of the camp alive if I had, but it would've been poetically and ethically just."

"But you didn't, and here we are," Elenwe said, her honesty coming to the fore. "You made the wrong decision, and we're paying for it."

"I didn't hear you protest very loudly," Kafei said bitterly.

"Would've alerted the camp if I did," she said, flashing him a small grin, which faded seconds later. "But you're right, I screwed up too."

"That doesn't happen often, does it, the two of us making the same mistake at the same time?" Kafei said, looking at her from across the fire. She shook her head and gave him a small smile. They both fell silent.

Link looked between them. Was it just him, or was there something going on here? He cleared his throat and looked towards the entrance to the cave. It was still dark outside.

"It's pretty late," he said. "Maybe we should get some sleep."

"Good idea," Kafei said in agreement. "I'll take first watch. Two hours and then it's you, and finally Elenwe. We'll head back out at first light; see if we can't track down our would-be trackers."

With that agreed upon, they packed it in for the night. Kafei went to sit by the cave entrance, making sure that he wasn't outlined against the fire. That way, he would spot anyone trying to creep up on the cave long before they spotted him. He heard Link and Elenwe's breaths quickly evening out. They'd fallen asleep the second they'd laid down, despite their lack of any bedding whatsoever.

He watched the snow fall, listened to the ambient sounds of the forest, which were dying down bit by bit. Many animals would be going into hibernation by now. He certainly hoped they hadn't disturbed a bear cave, especially not if the owner decided to come back for a very long nap. He drew a deep breath, released it and let his shoulders drop, finally allowing himself to relax fully while keeping a keen eye on the area outside. It was peaceful out here. No noise, no crowds, no nothing. Just wind, trees and silence. He enjoyed it immensely.

"Anju," he whispered to himself. "You would have loved it out here."

* * *

The decision to make Rial the new commander of the remaining army did not go over well with the other officers. They shouted and cursed, protesting loudly against letting an outsider, no matter what his blood relations were, take over. Rial had tried to defend himself, but Riveth had opened her mouth and given her men the tongue-lashing of their lifetimes, barking at them, telling them to stop being a bunch of children who´d been told there would be no dessert. Her face had softened afterwards, and said:

"The reason for why I am resigning is because my way of thinking and fighting is outdated and old-fashioned. I failed to keep up with the times, forgot about the new technologies, didn´t allow for any elbow room. That is a severe weakness in our current time and situation. That same flaw, I´m afraid, lies in the rest of you as well. You have all served under me faithfully, and now it is time for you to do the same with the new generation. My nephew is no stranger to combat, and his tactical mind is keen and modern. He will lead you far better than I ever will."

Not even that helped to still the men´s objections, but after another tongue-lashing, they retreated back to their individual campfires, muttering angrily. Riveth had assured her nephew that they'd accept afterwards, smiling softly at him.

"They´ll come around, trust me," she said. "They didn´t want me as their commander when I joined either. They just need some time to adjust." She seemed livelier these days, as if a massive burden had been lifted off her shoulders. She still looked sad whenever the names of fallen soldiers came up in conversation, though, the guilt still weighing heavily on her heart.

"Their loyalty is inspiring," Rial said drily, appreciating her attempts to cheer him up. "I still don´t think I´m the right choice, though. You said it yourself during the battle, I have no battlefield experience."

"And I´ve plenty, and look where that got us," she replied, her tone just as dry. "Experience means nothing if you don´t have the knowledge to back it up, and vice-versa. You know how to have many men under your command-"

"Only in theory."

"-and you have studied new and revolutionary ways of fighting while you were a Royal Guard. You know how to adapt against those cannons, and you can figure out a way to counter that airship. None of my officers can do this, which is why I chose you. And believe me, nephew, I would _not_ have picked you if I didn´t believe you were up to it."

"Flattering as it is, I don´t think—"

"Don´t make me give you an order, Captain Vortan," she said warningly. "You shall be the commander and you´ll damn well enjoy it or so help me I will give you such a hiding!"

He stared at her, mouth agape until she began to chuckle and patted his shoulder.

"All joking aside, Rial, I honestly believe you are the best man for the job. If you refuse, then there´s no one else who can do it. I´ll have to either continue myself and lead us into ruin and failure, or pick one of the other officers...which I strongly believe will have the same result. And if you are worried, remember that I´ll still be here to advise you. I'm resigning as the commanding officer, not the general. You won´t be alone."

He nodded. "Fine," he said. "But if you think I´m doing a sub-par job, you had better let me know immediately and demote me."

"Of course," Riveth said, sounding horrified. "There´s no nepotism or favouritism here. You will do your job and you´ll do it well or you´ll be out on your ass faster than you can count to one."

"All right. I will probably regret this, but I accept."

"Splendid. I think you will find Ard and Erd to be quite useful when it comes to close quarters combat as well—"

"The twins?" Rial asked. "I don't know..."

"You don't trust them?" She paused at this, looking at him curiously.

"I trust the twins," Rial said hurriedly. "They saved our lives by blowing _The Chimera_ off-course. I just don't trust their...abilities."

"Their magic?"

"That."

"Why not?"

"I just think that there are some things in this world that humans are not meant to tinker with. Magic is too unpredictable, too volatile." He stamped his feet, desperately trying to hold on to the last smidgen of feeling he still had in his toes. "You said that the younger one nearly blew you up when you first met—"

"That was ten years ago!" Riveth exclaimed. "They were just children; they probably didn't even know what they were doing. But they've studied, they've learned. True, Ard has less control of his gift than his brother, but Erd is an expert."

"I'm sorry, aunt, I just don't think it would be a good idea to mix them in with the fighting. Too much can go wrong. They can remain in support roles, of course, but I'd rather keep them away from the fray as much as possible, for everyone's protection. Besides, I..." He trailed off when he noticed the intense stare he was receiving from the soon-to-be-ex-general.

"Nephew, if you intend to win this war, you will need to make use of every resource at your disposal. You have a pair of warlocks, probably the only ones in the entire kingdom, who can rain down destruction upon your enemies...and you don't want them anywhere _near_ the battlefield? I'm sorry, but perhaps you were right about not being ready for this..."

"I—"

"Talk to them."

"What?"

"Meet with them. Talk to them. Get to know them. Have them show you what they can do. You've barely spoken a word to them since you arrived at Æsir Fortress. Perhaps you will understand why I trust them so much." She smiled at him. "Let's go."

"What? Now?"

"Of course now. Time's a-wasting and there's no time like the present and et cetera, et cetera..."

She gave him no time to protest and grabbed his arm, dragging her nephew through the main camp, much to the amusement of the regular soldiers. The officers, still offended at the sudden promotion, merely looked at them, their scowls showing no signs of fading.

Their boots crunched in the snow. They passed by a few snowmen made by off-duty soldiers. The sudden blizzard that had struck them two days before had severely lowered morale, but it seemed that even adults could be cheered up by some light frolicking in the snow. There were no carrots to spare for noses, so they had gotten creative. One snowman had a nose made by a broken broomstick. Another had an inedible piece of sausage that had been found at the bottom of the larder cart. They passed by the last one, which had a knife for a nose, which made Riveth scoff.

"Now that's just downright disturbing," she said, chuckling. Rial agreed.

They found the twin warlocks' tent and went inside unannounced. And froze mid-step.

Whatever Riveth had expected to find inside, it was definitely not this. The Sheikah was sitting in the middle of a complex-looking circle, surrounded by strange symbols and marks. The circle and symbols had been drawn with chalk on the bare stone on the ground.

Sheik was shirtless, many of the same symbols having been painted on his bare flesh. Rial almost winced at the sight of the many scars and still-fading bruises. The boy was so young, and yet he had already been through things that would have broken a grown man many times over. Jeryd, the clerk, was sitting on a pile of bedrolls in the corner of the tent, looking worried and fidgety.

The twins were bustling around the circle, looking through books and drawing and re-drawing the marks and symbols over and over again.

"No, that one's not right, draw it again," the one Rial knew to be Erd said, pointing at a mark his brother had just drawn. "The line there is crooked. It needs to be perfectly straight."

"I know," Ard replied with annoyance.

Riveth and Rial exchanged confused glances, and the general finally cleared her throat rather loudly, causing everyone inside the tent to pause and look at her. Their eyes widened.

"Do we want to know what is going on here, or should we just pretend we didn't see this and be on our way?" she asked half-jokingly.

"We can explain!" Erd exclaimed, as if he was a bad child that had just been caught with his fingers in the cookie jar. "We...that is, he...uh..."

"Seal, spell, containment," Ard said, pointing at the circle, the books and Sheik respectively. His mask was on, reminding Rial that he had actually never seen the younger twin's face. Only his eyes. Riveth assured him that the brothers were identical, though.

"I...don't understand, Ard," Riveth said. "I'm going to need more words than that."

Sheik, who had been silent the entire time, cleared his throat in the same manner Riveth had.

"They are preparing to seal away an evil entity that has tormented me for a long time."

"Seal?" Rial asked, really not liking the sound of this. "Seal it where?"

"Inside me, naturally."

The aunt and the nephew looked incredulously at each other.

"You know," Riveth said, "the scary thing is that I honestly can't tell if he's joking or not."

"It's no joke," Sheik said calmly. "I have tried to kill this thing before, but it keeps coming back. I'd rather put an end to its existence, but since that does not seem to be an option, sealing it away is the next best thing."

"Isn't it dangerous, though?" Rial asked. "I mean, if it's evil..."

"It will be fully contained, do not worry," Erd said, finally recovering from being put on the spot. "There's no chance of it breaking free."

Rial looked at his aunt. "If this was supposed to reassure me about magic..."

"Bad timing," the general agreed. "Right, we'll...uh...leave you boys to it, then. Try not to burn down the camp, yeah?"

* * *

Sheik was tired. For the past two hours, Speil had done nothing but scream in his head, nearly blocking out all other sounds. It didn't say anything in particular, just kept cursing him again and again for _daring_ to go through with the warlocks' plan. If anything, though, it only made Sheik surer that he was doing the right thing, risks be damned.

 _ **I swear to the whores you call goddesses that I will make your life such an unbearable hell that you'll be**_ **begging** _ **me to kill you if you go through with this, you Sheikah maggot!**_ it screamed. _**I kept you alive when you needed me, I protected you, I fought for you, I**_ **loved** _ **you, and this is how you repay me? Nothing will be able to save you when I get my hands on you again, pet, you understand?**_

 _Yes, yes, eternal revenge, blah blah blah_ , Sheik countered, feeling very childish. Speil wasn't responding to his eloquent answers, so he just began to tune him out, occasionally responding with statements like that. It didn't seem to notice them, so he figured it didn't matter what he said.

He shivered. It was freezing inside the tent despite the heaters placed in strategic spots. Why _he_ needed to be covered in marks as well was beyond his knowledge, but the twins had insisted. They'd taken great care while painting them on his skin, almost to the point where it tickled.

"So...there's no chance that the shadow won't escape?" Jeryd asked nervously. He'd taken the news about Speil rather well, all things considered, and had promised Sheik that he'd be there for support all the way through, even if he felt apprehensive about the whole thing. "I mean, if you say that it has done that once already..."

"Not with this seal," Erd assured him. "It's extremely powerful."

Ard agreed with a grunt. "Powerful."

"It's going to be fine, Jeryd," Sheik said, opening his eyes and looking at the human. "I trust them."

Jeryd didn't look convinced, but nodded.

Erd rose from where he had been writing another obscure symbol on the ground and wiped his brow. Everyone but Sheik seemed to be swelteringly hot, much to the Sheikah's annoyance.

"That's it," he said, nodding to himself. "That's the last mark. We're ready to begin. Ard, hand me the book." His twin tossed him the possible journal of the late Vorpheus the Immortal, catching it deftly and turning the pages until he found the one he wanted. "The incantation is only three words long, but the power required for the seal to work is massive, and so is the skill needed to control it."

"That sounds fair enough," Sheik commented. "But...are you up to it? Both of you?" He looked at the two warlocks in whose hands he was placing his life. They were at the threshold now, the point of no return. He was asking them if they wanted to back out. Their determined eyes told him that the answer was a resounding no.

"Given our individual handicaps, we are at a disadvantage here," Erd said. "But Ard came up with an ingenious solution to it. Tell him." He nodded at his brother, who suddenly looked embarrassed to be at the centre of attention.

"I...I will channel magic through myself and into Erd, who will mould and shape it," he said simply, clearly hoping that would be enough. Judging by Erd's expression, it clearly wasn't, but he nodded anyway.

"Ard will in other words be a conduit for magical energy, which I cannot summon very efficiently, and channel it on to me. I will active the seal and shape it to the form the book specifies and enclose the shadow deep within you. It will be time-consuming and very difficult. I have to stay completely focused, or something might go wrong and the entire camp _could_ go up in flames and gods know what else," Erd clarified for Sheik and Jeryd.

"And that's bad," Jeryd said, his voice very quiet.

"The worst outcome, actually," the older twin said while flashing a brilliant smile. "Good thing you've got the best magic users in the kingdom to do it, eh?"

"The _only_ ones, by the looks of it," Sheik muttered.

Their brief discussion was interrupted by the tent flaps opening again, revealing Rial. He looked more than a bit sheepish.

"May...may I observe the ritual?" he asked, so clearly uncomfortable that Sheik began to pity him. Riveth had probably forced him, or something.

The twins looked at each other, silently conferring with each other before Erd nodded. "Of course, captain," he said. "I just have to ask you to remain absolutely quiet and to not move from where you sit or stand after we start."

Rial nodded back. "I accept those terms. Where should I...?" he trailed off.

"Next to Jeryd would probably be fine," Sheik said. "He'd appreciate the company, I think, lonely as he is."

"Hey!" Jeryd said indignantly.

Rial joined him on the bedrolls, sitting cross-legged with his hands awkwardly folded in his lap. He kept glancing at the twins, as if sizing them up or evaluating them. They didn't seem to notice, though there was a subtle tension in the tent that had not been there before the captain had showed up. Sheik hoped it wouldn't affect the warlocks' performance. He'd hate for this to go awry just because of the awkwardness displayed here.

"Sheik, are you ready?" Erd asked, looking at him with a curious expression. Ard was mirroring him. "Remember, this won't be reversible."

"Why would I want to reverse it?" Sheik asked, ignoring the sudden, angry shriek in his head. "I never want to see this thing again!"

"Then let's get to it."

Sheik wasn't given any time to brace himself. Erd muttered three words in a language he didn't understand and suddenly he felt like his entire body had turned solid. None of his limbs responded, and he wasn't even able to move his eyes, forcing him to stare at the eldest twin in an unblinking, trance-like daze. His breathing slowed down, barely even there. The circle and symbols around him lit up, glowing red and gold, the light so intense it hurt to be this close to it. He heard Rial and Jeryd groaning, probably just as bothered by the brightness. Ard and Erd had their eyes closed, concentrating hard on their task. A low-key humming could be heard in the background, but it rose in pitch for every second that passed by.

Speil's voice was gone, but Sheik still felt his presence. It seemed that the shadow had frozen at the realisation that Sheik was actually going through with it. And then it began to curse him and damn his entire race for what he was doing, but the voice was quickly drowned out by the hum.

His skin felt warm, and he realised that the symbols painted there had begun to glow as well. The heat increased to almost searing levels, leaving Sheik in excruciating pain, but the full body lock he was in prevented him from even screaming.

His skin, where it wasn't feeling like it was being scorched by the marks, tingled. It felt like something was crawling beneath it, like a thousand tiny little insects. Was it supposed to feel like this? It was absolutely terrifying, this sensation.

He had no idea how much time had passed by the time Erd muttered "Almost there," under his breath, clearly audible despite the hum, which now had reached shrieking levels. It was sound that travelled through him all the way to the bone and marrow. His teeth felt like they were being ripped out all at once, and his head was most likely going to explode any second now. And his chest...it was like some monster with jaws of steel had clamped down on it, squeezing harder and harder. The pressure was centred around his heart, which felt like it was going to burst.

"We've got it now..."

 _Please, finish it!_ Sheik pleaded in his mind.

"Ard, a little more...a little more...yes, that's it..."

_Seal it!_

"There! Ard, now!"

A huge surge of energy blasted through Sheik, and Speil's screaming became as clear as if it was sitting right next to him.

_**No! I refuse to be imprisoned again!** _

"It's resisting...but it's futile," Erd shouted over the roar. "You're nicked!"

_**If I go, I am taking him with me!** _

"What? No! Ard, more power!"

Sheik suddenly felt like a pair of hands clamped down on his shoulder and pulled him downwards, into himself. Everything went dark, and his body finally relaxed as his mind sank into blissful darkness.

Everyone inside the tent saw the shadowy outline of a figure closely resembling a young man with red eyes appear behind the Sheikah and take a hold of Sheik's shoulders before rapidly fading away as fast as it had appeared. Sheik went limp and collapsed on the floor, unmoving. Ard and Erd both cursed loudly, panting as they ran over to the fallen teenager, shaking him and shouting his name.

"Sheik, wake up! Don't let it take you! Sheik!"

Their words fell on unhearing ears, however, and Sheik remained unconscious, his breathing shallow. Jeryd and Rial watched wide-eyed from their spot, both frozen in their positions. They didn't understand what had happened, but they knew one thing:

It had gone horribly wrong.

* * *

**Soul Remnants  
Chapter 32**

* * *

Link lay in the snow, shivering. His teeth chattered as he desperately tried to keep himself from moving, which was easier said than done when it feels like one's core body temperature has reached absolute zero. The urge to rub his arms to get some semblance of warmth into at least _some_ parts of his body nearly overcame him a few times, but he fought it down. He was almost proud of himself because he could imagine Sheik doing the exact same thing, and when you did something that matched the Sheikah's stubbornness, it was cause for awe and celebration, and perhaps a good time to see a few pigs fly as well. He grinned at his own joke, but regretted it immediately when he felt his chapped lips twinge at the sudden stretch.

He flexed his hands in his gauntlets, wondering what the chances of getting frostbite were. Probably very big, he decided, and continued to flex. How long was this going to take, anyway? He glanced over at the small bush under which he knew Elenwe was probably mirroring his thoughts and actions. Kafei had been gone for roughly three quarters of an hour now. Surely the plan the Sheikah had in mind couldn't take _that_ long?

He got his answer five seconds later, when the sound of panting and quick footsteps quickly rose in volume. The Hero rolled his eyes. Of course the bastard was overacting; he wouldn't know how to be obvious in a convincing way if his life depended on it. Which it probably did at the moment, now that he thought about it. He shook his head and got ready to spring up at a moment's notice, hoping his freezing legs wouldn't fail him. He spotted Elenwe's face quickly peeking in and out from underneath the bush. He could have sworn he saw her roll her eyes as well. So I'm not the only one, Link thought, grinning to himself.

Kafei entered the small and sheltered group of trees at a breakneck pace, not even sparing Link or Elenwe a glance as he continued running, only stopping as he reached the natural wall of rock in front of him. He growled to himself, as if this was a surprise. A minute went by, the only thing audible being Kafei's breathing, which was slowing down. For a moment, Link thought the plan wouldn't work, that they'd have to find some other way of doing it and prepared to stand up, but then he suddenly heard more panting and footsteps. He tensed up and prepared himself yet again, wishing that everything would just… _end_ , for once.

Then the first scout entered the small, enclosed area. He was followed by three more, all of them looking warily at the Sheikah by the cliff wall, who hadn't turned around to face them yet. When he did, they all paused, hands on their weapons. Kafei pulled back his hood, revealing his scarred face. He then drew his sword, holding it out to the side in an invitation for them to strike first.

"I'm sick of this cat-and-mouse game," he told the scouts. They drew their weapons, though none of them seemed eager to be the first to attack, each trying to push one of the others ahead of themselves. "I've killed eight of your companions in the past two days," Kafei continued. "But that didn't deter you. So, who wants to avenge their comrades?"

No one, it seemed. Link felt sorry for them. By the look of things, they weren't any more prepared for the sudden snowfall than the trio. They carried few supplies, but at least their clothes seemed warmer than what the Hero was wearing at that moment. Wolf skins, by the looks of it. And one of them was carrying a backpack—probably filled with food and other supplies.

"There's only one of him," one of the scouts suddenly said, his voice tired and bordering on the psychotic. "We can take him!"

"What about the other two?" one of the others asked. "Haven't seem 'em for at least a day."

"Screw 'em," said a third. "They're probably dead from the cold. Let's finish this one and get back to the camp. I'd rather face the general than this bloody winter!"

A non-verbal agreement was made and all four of the scouts attacked at once, charging at Kafei, who observed them with an almost bored expression, sighing in disappointment. Then he whistled loudly. The signal.

Elenwe burst out from her hiding place, her collapsible crossbow making a loud **twang** -sound as it launched a bolt right into a scout's back. The man went down with a surprised gasp. Link was next, launching himself to his feet and barrelling straight into a scout's side, which sent him sprawling and scrabbling to get up from the pile of snow he'd been knocked into. Link's sword bit into his side a second later, the sad face of the Hero of Time entering his vision. He heard the words "I'm sorry," being whispered into his ear before everything went dark.

The third scout went down, a dagger sticking out of his throat. He grabbed at it feebly, gurgling before falling over, twitching. Kafei nodded with satisfaction at his own throw and retightened his grip on his sword, the long and sleek blade practically invisible against the snowy backdrop. The scout came in for a clumsy, over-head blow with his cudgel, a move that cost him the fight before it even began. Kafei moved quickly, stepping out of the blow's reach. He slashed deeply into the man's side, not even turning around before he heard the thud of a body hitting the ground.

It was a deadly wound, of that there was no doubt, but Link recognized the style Kafei fought with. It was going to be a long, painful passing. Sheathing his blade, Kafei knelt down next to the groaning scout, pulling his head onto his lap in an almost loving way. He looked deeply into the dying scout's eyes, smiling serenely.

"You're a dead man," he said quietly, almost cooing. "You're going to die a slow and horrifically painful death over the next few hours. You will bleed out, helpless and unable to defend yourself should a not-so-friendly predator come by."

The scout whimpered, clutching at Kafei's trouser legs. "Hrgh!" he bit out.

"I know, I know," Kafei said, definitely cooing now.

The display made Link sick to his stomach. The Hero focused on ensuring that his own target was dead before helping Elenwe with hers. The man who'd taken the crossbow bolt to his back was trying to feebly crawl away, but Elenwe quickly stepped up to him and slit his throat, his warm blood staining and melting the snow beneath the body. The one who'd taken Kafei's dagger to the throat was twitching, but no breathing or could be seen or heard. Link stabbed him in the heart for good measure, to ensure no more suffering.

"However," Kafei said, "I can end that pain right now. I can ensure that you won't suffer any more than you have to. All you have to do in return is to tell me how many more scouts there are out there. The last man I asked said that your group was the last. Is that true?"

The scout bit out a curse, damning Kafei, Elenwe and Link to the nine circles of hell before nodding with a groan.

"That wasn't very nice," Kafei said gently before shoving a finger into the man's wound, eliciting an agonised scream. "Now, let's try that again without the cursing and _with_ the complete and utter truth, yes?"

"We're the last!" the man cried out after the Sheikah dug another finger into the opening in his side. "I swear!"

"Strange, I don't believe you," Kafei said.

Link looked up at him. He had heard that exact phrase spoken before in the exact same way...by Sheik. It was...eerie.

"It's the truth, I swear on my mother's grave!" the man pleaded.

"As much as I would like to believe you, I just don't," Kafei said, shaking his head. "But perhaps you simply don't know where they are, yes? Perhaps you were released into the woods at intervals so you wouldn't get in each other's way, hm?"

The scout nodded.

"Then you lied to me, didn't you? That's not very nice..."

"Please..." the scout begged. "No more..."

Kafei grunted, looking like he was about to ask another question, but then he sighed and quickly drew a dagger over the man's throat. He rolled the dying man's head off his lap and stood up, brushing off snow, wrinkling his nose in distaste at the blood that was soaking into his clothes. He noticed the looks he was getting from his companions.

"What? I wanted to make sure if we could put this to rest or not," he said, shrugging.

"There are other ways to do it than putting someone through that much pain," Link murmured. Kafei ignored it, checking the scout's pulse before pulling off his wolf skin and wrapping it around his shoulders. "Come on; take what you need from the bodies. We move out in two minutes."

Link shook his head, wondering if Sheik had ever been like Kafei. Of course he was, he told himself a second later. He was exactly like this when you met him, you dolt. He still kinda is, actually...

The backpack one of the scouts had carried was full of dried meat and tough, almost frozen bread. A feast as long as it was heated by a fire. They dressed themselves in the warmer clothing and left soon after, leaving the rapidly freezing bodies behind. Hopefully, if there were any other scouts out there, they would find the bodies and take the hint.

"It's time to find Riveth's army," Kafei announced as they jogged along the path they'd been sticking to for the past few days. "We've wasted enough time on these scouts."

"About time," Elenwe said. "I'm sick of trudging around in these woods. Would be nice to be able to get a night's sleep without having to stand guard, too."

"Yeah," Link said, not voicing what he was looking forward to the most. He had a feeling the others already knew.

* * *

What was supposed to be an incredible tournament had turned into an indoors soirée when the snow had began to fall in earnest the day before the opening ceremony, much to the disappointment of the young knights and other contestants who were hoping to show off their skills and perhaps snag a lover or two (or perhaps even three, in one particular case, though that person had always been considered a bit of a whore anyway).

The decision to hold a tournament in the new king's honour had been made surprisingly quickly (even suspiciously so), and when it was announced that it was to take place at the Baroness of Denal's estate, questions began to form on everyone's lips. How was the woman ready to host and take part in such festivities so soon after the death of her only child? Some thought she was trying to cover up some sort of illicit love affair that Leonard might have been the result of, while others speculated that she was trying to move on and that enjoying the many amusements that such an event would bring was the best way to do it.

All Victor knew was that soirée was playing havoc with his plans. If the tournament had been held, he would have been able to single out the lords and ladies he could count on and gather them in a way that wouldn't look suspicious. But here, inside the baroness' admittedly cavernous mansion, the nobles had managed to turn into one big undistinguishable mass, an amorphous blob of people he barely knew.

Luckily, he had found another ally.

"Albermarl...no, that son of a bitch will run to Rehm's side at the drop of a hat if he senses that things are about to go south," Ise said, pointing out a corpulent lord that Victor had seen sometimes at the court. "Holds a lot of land back east, but doesn't employ much in the way of guards. A couple dozen, or so."

"Rich?" Victor asked, sipping wine out of an expensive-looking glass. The baroness was an excellent host; he had to give her that. She was also good at keeping up appearances, laughing and socialising with a group of guests at the other end of the ballroom. One wouldn't think that she was planning bloody vengeance upon those who murdered Len.

"Not in any sense of the word," Ise replied, also sipping her wine, nodding and smiling at the man in front of her. He played along, pretending to talk to her. Apparently, he was a part of the baroness' network of informants.

The king and the councillor weren't even facing each other. Victor was leaning against a column, looking out at the hall while Ise was facing the buffet table. They stood close enough so that they could hear each other speak, but not so close that they appeared to be conversing. It was impossible to know whether Rehm had planted spies here or not. The geriatric bastard had little interest for the tournament-turned-party and had regrettably been _prevented to attend by the affairs of state_. He had not objected to Victor going, though, which had the king suspicious. There had to be catch.

Victor had sent away his guards upon spotting Ise. Surprisingly, they had obeyed. The surprise part was actually quite pathetic, now that he thought about it. What kind of king couldn't even get his own personal guards to obey his orders a hundred percent of the time?

 _One that is practically a hostage at this point, perhaps?_ Even his thoughts sounded like they were laced with acid. He shook his head. Rehm had probably not ordered them to keep tabs on what he was doing, thinking there wasn't much harm he could do here.

"Those lands of his are practically worthless," Ise continued. "Mostly rocky crags and cliffs. Barely a scrap of cultivable soil. He's what is called a pauper noble. The only reason he hasn't been forced to sell his title yet is because of the dowry he received from his wife's family. It's quickly running out these days, however..."

"Could he be persuaded to join us?" Victor asked. He brushed a hand against his sash, and the many medals fastened upon it jingled slightly. How he bloody hated them. "If push comes to shove, I mean?"

"Honestly, he'd do more harm than good if he were to join you, my lord," Ise replied. "Hopefully, if we leave him alone he will remain neutral, holing up at his estate until it all blows over."

"Assuming we can get _this_ off the ground to begin with," Victor muttered.

Ise gave him a look that was filled with sympathy, but said nothing. That was one the things Victor liked about the red-haired woman. She knew exactly when to speak and when to keep her mouth shut. That, and her unwavering loyalty. To the cause of ending Rehm, that is. Victor didn't know how she felt about his reign so far, but he assumed that the adage about the enemy of one's enemy being one's friend could be applied here.

His confession about what he was planning with this gathering had come quite unexpectedly a few nights before they travelled to the baroness' estate. It had started with an innocent conversation about some tax issues or other, and then the conversation had wavered over to what had happened to Len and it had just snowballed from there. He didn't tell her about the original conspiracy, however. It would just complicate things at the moment, and the key to this plan was to keep it simple for as long as he could. The councillor had jumped at the opportunity to ruin Rehm's plans immediately, and had vowed to help Victor find the right nobles to meet with.

And that's what they were doing at the moment. They had already found nine nobles with private armies whom Victor could definitely trust. The plan was to gather them in one of the dining rooms later for sherry and cigars. That was when Victor was going to reveal everything that was going on and ask for their help. In the meantime, the baroness' guards would take up patrols in the surrounding hallways and ensure that no prying eyes or unwelcome ears could gather sensitive information.

"Have courage, Your Majesty," Ise said, sensing a window. "The nobles might disagree about the fine details such as the number of salt grains required to make poached eggs a tolerable dish, but on matters such as this they will immediately rally to whoever they think will be granting them rewards."

"So much for loyalty for the sake of loyalty, I suppose," Victor said with a sigh, finishing his wine. A servant silently appeared to refill his glass, disappearing just as quietly.

"The human race has never been big practitioners of that sort of sappiness," Ise said, chuckling. "Leave that crap to the Hylians."

"Maybe I should. The princess of Hyrule has far more experience with warfare and betrayal than I do."

"Speaking of Hyrule, Your Majesty, what is happening with Mirn and his army?"

"I've issued a recall order, but will take months before they get here," Victor said. "By the time they arrive, we could all be dead and buried."

They both fell silent, the conversation beginning to depress them both. Victor pointed at a gaggle of younger lords who were gathered around a slightly older one. He was a few years older than Victor, by the looks of him. "Who is that? The one who has all the youngsters crawling over him like insects?"

"That would be Sir Iteos, Your Majesty," Ise replied. "The mercenary-turned-knight."

"Never heard of him," Victor said.

"Not surprising," she said. "He's very popular among young men and women who dream of being sellswords and other stupid fantasies like that. No offense intended, but I doubt you have been exposed to stories of his exploits as they are of a quite...raunchy nature."

"Ah."

"He could be an ally, though," Ise said after a few minutes.

"How?"

"He still leads a group of warriors. Hardened ones. Experienced ones."

"Mercenaries as well?"

"In anything but name, yes. Call themselves the Bringers of Justice, but they really just kill people for money in a very flashy and overt way."

"And the knighthood?"

"Bought, most likely."

"Figures. How would they make good allies, again?"

"Fighting prowess, like I said. And with him on your side, many of the younger nobles would convince their families to join you as well."

"Just because of some silly stories?"

"People are stupid, Your Majesty, that's all I can tell you, really."

"Well...if you think he can be trusted, arrange for him to join the sherry assembly."

"As you wish, Your Majesty."

"How many mercenaries does he command, anyway?"

"A little over five hundred, last I heard."

Victor nearly choked on his drink.

* * *

The meeting with the nobles was about to start. They were being whisked away to the private dining room one by one by the baroness and Ise, quickly and quietly so as not to draw attention to what was going on.

Victor descended the dark stairway, his breath fogging in the chilly air. The oil lantern he held burned brightly, casting eerie shadows in the stone corridor the stairs terminated in. He followed it for about half a minute before he reached a set of marble steps leading up to a massive granite door, upon which a brass plaque had been mounted. Words had been scratched into the metal:

**Denal Family Crypt**

Victor took a deep breath and pushed the door open. He silently gave his compliments to the builders—there wasn't a single sound of friction as the heavy stone slid aside to reveal a large, empty room. A ledger had been placed on a plinth in the middle of the crypt. It was opened on a recent page. Only four things had been written on it. Leonard's first and last names, his date of birth and his date of death.

Victor looked around, spotting the handles jutting out of the walls of the crypt, realising that the Denal family had opted to lay their dead to rest on shelves as opposed to holes in the ground. He searched for a while, finally finding Leonard's place underneath his father's. He placed the oil lantern on the floor before kneeling down, touching the brass plaque with his friend's name on it with his fingers.

"Hey, Len," he whispered. "It's me, Victor. I'm sorry I wasn't able to attend your funeral, but...something came up. You'll be happy to know that I'm taking the first step to making things right again tonight. Your mother is helping me, you know. Bet you didn't expect that." He chuckled, but the laughter trailed off quickly. He sighed.

"I...I feel like I should apologise properly one last time before I go out and get myself killed in a foolish attempt to stand up to Rehm, so here goes: I am truly and deeply sorry for putting you on that airship. I am sorry for putting you in the line of fire like I did. I should have gone myself, or just have stood up to Rehm before things got out of hand. You were murdered because of my foolishness, and I will never be able to forgive myself for it, nor will I be able to rest until the man responsible has been punished—and I swear to you that I will be doing my utmost to make that happen. I swear this on my life."

He paused, bowing his head as a mark of submissiveness and respect.

"That is what I came to say. I do not know what will happen after tonight. I might very well be arranging my own funeral, in fact. But if I succeed...well..." He never finished that sentence. Standing up, he nodded, trying to calm down so that his voice wouldn't be so shaky when he addressed the nobles. "I will never forget you, my dear friend."

With that, he left the crypt and headed for the sherry assembly, never noticing the young man that had been standing outside, listening to every word he said.

* * *

The cries of seagulls. The crashing of waves. The feeling of coarse sand under his fingertips. The smell of salt in the warm breeze. These were the things that assaulted his senses when he finally regained consciousness. Sheik groaned.

 _What happened?_ he wondered.

The last thing he could remember before passing out was a pair of hands clamping down on his shoulders during the ritual in Ard and Erd's tent. Had they succeeded? He could've sworn they'd been in the middle of the forest rather than by the sea... Come to think of it, did Lumina even _have_ a sea? As far as he knew, the kingdom was land-locked...

His eyes slammed open when his mind finally kicked into gear, and he sat up with a groan. His entire body was sore, like he'd been exercising all day and night. He was indeed sitting on a beach. The sand was a dull grey-brown colour, and the skies were overcast. A thick fog hung over the water except for the part where the waves crashed over the sand. The temperature was pleasant enough, but the whole place felt...depressing.

He stood up, his legs wobbling. He had never been to a beach like this before. The atmosphere was oppressive, as if it was trying to squeeze every last bit of happiness out of him. There were no seagulls, though he still heard their cries as if they were flying around his head. The water looked...dead. It was murky and seemed to swirl slightly, like every molecule was stuck in a vortex.

_Where am I?_

It was a stupid question, of course. He knew exactly where he was. The shadow's interference during the ritual had clearly had—to put it mildly—unfortunate consequences. But where was it? He looked around, trying to spot the ever-present cause of his chronic indigestion and stress-induced ulcers.

"Like it?" Speil's voice asked from directly behind him. Sheik didn't even flinch. He was used to this by now.

"Not particularly," Sheik said. "It's rather...dreary."

"I work with the materials I'm given," Speil said. "And honestly, you are a very dreary person."

"What happened to the meadow?" Sheik asked. "I liked that one. It was peaceful. Reminded me of home. Or Link's home, rather."

"It's gone." Speil shrugged as Sheik turned around to face him. It was difficult to refer to the shadow as an 'it' when Speil was standing in front of him, looking every bit like Link...except for the obvious differences, of course. "Obliterated when they sealed us in here. I tried to remake it, but it was an exercise in futility. This is the best I could do."

"Why did you interfere?" Sheik asked, already knowing the answer. "Why can't you just let things go? You lost. Get over it."

"As long as I still exist, I will never concede defeat," Speil said, his face dead-serious. "And I've discovered that I can hold grudges for a _long_ time."

"Not surprising in the least," Sheik remarked drily. The warm breeze whisked over him again, and he realised that he was almost naked. The only thing protecting his modesty was a pair of beige shorts. "Where are my clothes?" he asked.

"Probably back with your body," Speil said. "I created those for you. I figured you wouldn't want to walk around here in the nude, pleasant as that sight would be."

Sighing, Sheik stepped forward and let the swirling surf wash over his feet. Unlike the wind, the water was freezing cold, and it left a tingling sensation everywhere it had touched him. "So," he said, "you're in control here?"

"More or less," Speil said, not moving from his spot. "But what I can do is severely limited. And I can't pierce the veil to the outside. Your seal has taken care of that." He spat. "Well done, by the way. Sealing your own mind within yourself? Stroke of genius."

"Your fault," Sheik replied, not even bothering with emotion in his voice. He was so tired of arguing with the shadow. Besides, as long as it wasn't going on a murderous rampage, he was somewhat acceptable company...in the loosest sense of the word, of course. "You've probably killed us both by doing that."

"How, do you reckon?" the shadow asked.

"Nutrition, for one," Sheik said, watching the water. It was fascinating. The vortexes seemed to exist in a state of chaos at first, but every now and then he could spot a pattern. They only lasted a few seconds at a time before succumbing to the chaos again, but they re-emerged again and again, as if they were acting in defiance. "Won't be able to eat anything if I'm lying catatonic on the tent floor, will I?"

"Who says you are?" Speil asked. "For all we know, you could be awake and healthy, just...less intelligent than before, what with your mind stuck here."

"Thank you for that," Sheik said calmly. "The water looks strange."

"Yeah, first thing I noticed when creating the beach." Speil came up to stand beside him, looking down at the surf. "Seems to mirror your state of mind, actually."

"Not possible," Sheik said. "I feel calm, collected. This...this is just chaos."

"You're not calm," Speil said, shaking his head. His red eyes seemed to soften. "You're trembling, and your breathing is uneven. Your eyes keep darting everywhere. You're in shock, you just don't realise it."

It was as if some sort of veil had been lifted from his eyes, and Sheik realised he _was_ doing all of those things. His knees buckled underneath him, but Speil's arms stopped him from falling, lowering him gently onto the sand.

"Easy," Speil murmured. "Take deep breaths."

"Why are you...always like this?" Sheik asked, his heart thumping wildly. Or was that really his heart? Perhaps it was just an imaginary one cooked up by his thoughts to cope with what had happened? Was he coping? He was leaning towards 'no'. He looked at Speil, who was holding his shoulders to support him. "Why are...you always nice one second and...an evil bastard the next?"

The shadow took some time to think about this. "Because I am an evil bastard and you bring out the good in me?" he tried, grinning like it was some sort of joke.

Sheik tried to push him away, but his strength had been sapped away by the shock, and the shadow only grinned.

"It's useless, you know," he said. "This is my domain."

"No," Sheik panted with exertion. "It's _my_...body!"

"Outside the seal, perhaps," Speil admitted. "But in here...I am lord and master. And I suggest you stop pushing me before I make you do what you refused to in the Forest Temple."

Sheik froze, eyes staring widely into Speil's, which were filled with the utmost seriousness.

"You know I will do it," Speil said. "You might as well—gah!" He was unable to finish his sentence on account of Sheik's knee finding his groin. He collapsed next to the Sheikah, gasping for breath. "Cheap...shot..." he managed to say before groaning and curling up in a foetal position.

"I use whatever methods are available to me," Sheik said, sitting up. Kicking Speil had made him feel surprisingly good. His heart calmed down, and he was able to draw deep breaths again. "And you're the last individual who can play that particular card." He remained seated, knowing that Speil would be neutralised for a while. He shuffled away a little bit, though, the threat the shadow made had seemed serious enough.

 _So, what do I do now?_ he thought. _Need to come up with a plan._

He had no doubt that the twins were doing their best to bring him back this very second. Erd had said the seal would be hard to break, but surely the casters of the spell would face no obstacles? They had made it, after all. Perhaps they already had, but needed to find his consciousness and bring it back first? Would they be able to contact him, or did he have to take the initiative and call for them himself? He growled. Why did magic always have to be so...unreliable?

He stood up, leaving Speil where he was lying and stared into the thick fog. Was that the veil Speil had spoken of? Was the real world out there, behind the wall of mist? What would happen if he tried to walk through it? What if he got lost, doomed to wander the seas of his mind until his body died? A headache was forming already, all this speculation doing nothing to calm him down.

Perhaps he needed to give a sign that he was still there. He took a deep breath and hollered, "Ard! Erd! Can you hear me? I'm in here!"

He waited. Ten seconds. No reply. Twenty seconds. No reply. A minute, two minutes, five minutes. No reply. He tried calling again and again, screaming himself hoarse. No reply. He cursed and bit his lip.

_Looks like it's going to take more than that to get me out of here..._

"It's useless," Speil groaned. His voice was weak from the cowardly assault upon his most precious of jewels. "We're _stuck_ here. Forever too, if the seal is truly that strong..." He gradually uncurled and looked up at Sheik. "Better get used to having my company again, pet, because it's going to be a while."

Sheik grimaced at the thought. "A fate worse than death, in my opinion," he said and looked around the beach, noting that the sand seemed to stretch on into the fog. "How big is the beach?" he asked.

"Hell if I know," Speil muttered. "Didn't bother counting the yards when I made it."

"You must have _some_ idea of how big you made it, surely?" Sheik demanded.

"I said I don't know!" Speil growled, his voice deepening. "I just made it as big as I could! Why are you asking me these ridiculous questions?"

"Because there has to be an end to it somewhere," Sheik answered calmly. He was completely out of the state of shock now. He could tell. Kneeing the shadow in the bollocks had really helped. "And where it ends, there should be a wall, or something like that—"

"A veil."

"A veil, yes, and while you may not be able to pierce it, perhaps I can send some sort of signal out..." His sentence died when he saw the grin that had suddenly reappeared on Speil's face. "What?"

"You do realise that there is no way in hell I am going to let you leave, right? Even if you find a way to cross the veil, I'll be pull you right back in." He quickly stood up and closed the distance between them, putting his hands on Sheik's shoulders and pulling him close. Sheik tried to push him away, but the second Speil had touched him the strength had been sapped from his body yet again. "You're mine, or have you forgotten that?" Speil said. "We'll spend all of eternity here...together. And you'll learn to love me again, one way or another."

Then the shadow's lips met with Sheik's in an angry, forceful, almost painful kiss, and the world began to spin...

* * *

**Soul Remnants  
Chapter 33**

* * *

"All in all, I think we´re doing quite well," Elenwe said, grinning even while staring down the wrong end of an arrow shaft. The archer was keeping it trained firmly on her. "Despite this slight setback, of course, wouldn´t you say?"

"Speak for yourself," Link said sourly. "´Doing well´ never entails having someone aiming at you with a bow. Or crossbow," he added, nodding at the Gerudo´s unusual weapon, which had been unpacked and assembled by the scouts who had captured them. They found it, in their words, ´Brilliant and conniving as all hell´.

"Relax, Kafei will talk them down, he always does," she said and looked in the direction her companion had gone. He was speaking with the leader of the scouts in hushed tones. The discussion seemed to be rather lively based on the amount of gesturing from the scouts´ leader. "He´s a persuasive bastard when he wants to be."

He had to be, Link thought. He got me to work with him, after all.

"Shut up, you two," said one of the scouts that were detaining them. "No talking." There was no nervousness in her voice.

None of the soldiers present were amateurs or greenhorns. They were all veterans, based on their ages and hardened faces. The way they kept their bowstrings tightened without a single tremble or sign of fatigue told Link that these were not men and women who would break under pressure—in fact, it´d probably only make them tougher. And they sure as hell wouldn´t hesitate in releasing their arrows if they believed their captives to be making a break for it.

"Oooh, this one´s fiery," Elenwe said, her natural defiance towards authority coming to bear. "I like her, Link. How do you think she is in bed? A firecracker, I´m sure of it."

"I said, quiet!" the scout repeated, glaring at the Gerudo. "And I´ll have you know that I´d be leaving you without the ability to walk for weeks," she added.

The other scouts looked embarrassed, but Elenwe simply whistled with awe. "I don´t know whether that´s intriguing or terrifying, coming from a fellow woman," she said. "Probably both, but I like living life on the edge."

"Hey, you," Link said to the man standing next to the female scout. "Could you please shoot me and get it over with?"

"Don´t like a bit of dirty talk, Hero?" Elenwe asked wickedly. "How do you ever get it on with Sheik if you don´t? Or maybe he doesn´t like dirty talk either? Wow, two prudes in bed at once...sounds like a riot, that."

Blushing, Link turned away, muttering a quiet "Shut up," to her.

Elenwe clicked her tongue. "Must be the least exciting bed activities ever."

"...we will even surrender our weapons and allow you to bind us if you will just take us to your camp. We have killed Agon´s scouts, so you don´t have to worry about anyone following us." Kafei and the scout leader finally came back to the group, the leader looking less-than-pleased, but at least he wasn´t brandishing a weapon at the Sheikah, who was smiling pleasantly. "You can trust us."

"That´s what people who can´t be trusted always say," the leader said doubtfully. "But the information you have given me will indeed be valuable if it is true."

"Cross my heart," Kafei said pleasantly.

"And hope to die," Elenwe finished, still looking at the female scout. The bed conversation had really roused her attention, it seemed. "So, what would I have to say in order to try out your...incapacitating techniques?"

"Stop making our potential friends uncomfortable, E," Kafei said with a sigh and a shake with his head.

"Stop butting into my business, K," the Gerudo replied, winking at the scout, who looked at her commander.

"Sir, can I shoot her?" she asked.

"Hold fire...for now," the commander said. He nodded at Kafei. "Right, I know I´m probably going to regret this, but I´m going to take a chance on you. You will, of course, hand over your weapons and agree to be bound and blindfolded while we lead you to the camp. We´ve been ordered to kill anyone we encounter, but since I feel like pissing off my commander today...well, you see my point."

"Thank you, sir," Kafei said with a smile and a small bow. He immediately began to remove the various weapons he had hidden on himself and motioned for Link and Elenwe to do the same. Every single scout widened their eyes when they saw just how many instruments of death the three were carrying combined. "We will not betray your trust."

"I might make _her_ betray her _breeches_ , though."

"Tone it down, Elenwe, that doesn´t even make sense."

Link felt a sudden urge to run far away and never come back.

* * *

Nothing could have prepared him for this. A lifetime of boring ceremonies, careful study and official appearances did nothing to calm Victor´s nerves as he stood before the gathered nobles (and one rather creepily grinning mercenary-knight), preparing to give what was probably going to be one of the defining speeches of his reign...one which was going to be very short if he didn´t bloody nail it on the first try.

He swallowed thickly as he rose from his seat by the fireplace, clutching the glass of expensive brandy in his hand. The nobles immediately turned their full attention on him, wondering if he was going to reveal why he had gathered just them here. Sir Iteos was still grinning, one hand scratching at the stubble on his chin and the other daintily holding his brandy glass with the little finger extended in a parody of the nobles around him. Then the knight winked at Victor, which only made things so much worse.

"Lor..." He had to clear his throat again as his voice cracked. "Lords and Ladies," he began, trying to stop his voice from wavering. "As you may have already understood, I have gathered you all here tonight for a reason...a reason that has nothing to do with the planned tournament or subsequent soirée here." He looked down at his feet, suddenly finding the leather of his boots very interesting. "There...is something you all need to be aware of." He studied his boots for a moment again before refocusing on the nobles. "I...and you...have been betrayed."

A murmur went through the gathered nobles. It wasn´t as outraged as Victor had expected, but he quickly realised why, and corrected himself.

"And the traitor was not the woman you were led to believe. No, General Riveth is, as far as I am concerned, innocent of treason against the crown...or at the very least, _my_ crown." he continued. "It is, in fact, someone I believed to be one of my closest allies. That man is someone you have all met and spoken with at some point in your lives. He has been a part of this kingdom for as long as I can remember, and a valuable member of the council, and-"

"Are you talking about Rehm?" a woman asked, sounding confused. "I don´t understand..."

"It is a long and convoluted story that I do not believe I have the time to iterate to you this evening," Victor said. "But I can give you a heavily condensed version. Rehm, and a group of conspirators murdered my father and installed me on the throne as a glorified puppet, after which he orchestrated the massacre of my Royal Guards and General Riveth´s army in order to leave me defenceless and without any means of taking offensive action. The truth, my lords and ladies, is that I have not been in control of my own kingdom since the day the crown was placed upon my head."

That had the desired effect, every face in the room contorting with rage at the very idea of their monarch having been betrayed in such a manner. Well, every face except Sir Iteos´, which remained simply intrigued, as if he was watching a play and the plot was thickening by the second. Baroness Denal´s face was impatient, clearly waiting to hear names. Victor didn´t dare to think about what kind of punishments she had in store for them.

"Who are these cowardly curs?" demanded the aging Lord Reimos, his beard-covered jowls shaking with indignant rage. "Name them, and I shall bring them to justice immediately, Your Majesty!"

The room was immediately filled with similar boasts and demands, the lords and ladies nearly falling over themselves in order to impress their king. Victor sighed. This was the exact reaction he _hadn´t_ wanted. Blind loyalty was just that: blind. He wanted someone to ask questions, someone to put a spotlight on the things that didn´t make sense. He got his wish five seconds later.

"I have a question, Your Majesty, if I may?" Sir Iteos called out, having placed his brandy down on the long table in front of him.

The room fell silent, as if everyone was apalled at the very idea of the man questioning the majesty in his moment of need. Victor nodded, smiling gratefully at the ex-but-not-quite-ex-mercenary.

"Certainly, Sir Iteos," Victor said. "Ask away."

"As much as I appreciate a good drama with plenty of intrigues and betrayal, I cannot help but wonder how this situation came to be in the first place," the knight said, slowly approaching Victor, eyeing him closely. "I realise that Councillor Rehm is very much a valuable piece embedded into the heart of the chess game known as politics, but not even he could have orchestrated something like this without a little help from some high-ranking people. Perhaps it would be...a good move on your part to reveal the...co-conspirators?"

It had just been a more eloquent way of saying what Reimos had, but Victor still felt like this was someone he definitely needed on his side. The knight had not sounded like the king had expected at all. His appearance was rather rugged and manly, but his voice was soft, almost careful. But every syllable was laced with confidence and a sense of...trustworthiness? His eyes were an incredibly light shade of green, almost transparent.

"You are right, of course," Victor said quickly after realising he´d been staring. "There are three leaders, or so I have gathered. Those three are Councillor Rehm, General Agon and Countess Marlotta."

"That bitch!" someone at the back of the room hissed. It sounded suspiciously like the baroness.

"And the two eminent guests from the kingdom of Hyrule," Iteos said, "they were...in on it as well?"

"Unfortunately, they were simply handy scapegoats," Victor said. He honestly regretted what he had done to the poor Sheikah and his friend. Hopefully, he would have a chance to make it up to them later. If they were still alive, that is...

"Ah, that is indeed unfortunate," Iteos agreed, nodding.

"Shall I put out arrest orders on them, Your Majesty?" Lord Reimos said, annoyed at having been ignored in such a manner. "I can have them kneeling before you in chains in a fortnight!"

"No, Lord Reimos, I do not believe that is the wisest action we can take right now," Victor said apologetically.

"Then what are we supposed to do?" Iteos asked. "You have made us all aware of your predicament, but you do not wish for us to do anything about it?"

"That´s not it," Victor protested. "I do wish for actions to be taken, but arresting those three will only make Agon´s army spring into action and slaughter everyone who stands in their way."

"Then what do we do?" Iteos repeated.

Victor hesitated. It was not a plan that was easy to agree to, he realised, but it was the only one he had at the moment. "I need you to gather all your men-at-arms, soldiers and guards and take them up north. There, you will attempt to link up with the remnants of General Riveth´s army. From what I´ve gathered, Agon split his army up in order to hunt her down, and if you were to catch them by surprise up there you would destroy them easily. From there, you will march south and quickly and quietly take out the isolated elements of Agon´s army until you are at the capital´s gates...by then, Rehm will have nothing left to protect him, and I strongly believe he will surrender."

The room had fallen silent at hearing the plan, several men coughing uncomfortably. Iteos whistled a little.

"Tough crowd, huh?" the knight said. "Not very strange, really, considering how far-fetched and, quite frankly, how little sense it makes."

"I realise it is not completely thought through, but-"

"Ignoring everything else that is wrong with the plan, Your Majesty, I feel the need to ask you how we are, theoretically, supposed to link up with an army that was destroyed several weeks ago?" Iteos shook his head, giving Victor a condescending little smile that set the king´s inner furnace blazing with annoyance. Yes, it was his first plan of offense, but there was no need to be such an ass about it.

"If the general herself survived along with a small group of soldiers, then there´s a good chance that—"

"But how do we even know if the general is still alive?" Iteos continued smiling condescendingly. "I am fortunately not personally acquainted with the good General Agon, but from what I´ve seen, heard and read of his work, he is not the kind to leave potential troublemakers alive. He would have finished Riveth off the second he had a chance."

"Ah, but we _do_ have confirmation that she survived the battle," Victor said triumphantly. We don´t know whether she survived the aftermath, though, he added to himself. He motioned towards the baroness, who nodded and left the room quietly. She was about to fetch Victor´s secret weapons in the argument.

"What kind of proof?" asked Reimos sceptically.

"Anything short of testimonies from people who were actually there will not convince—"Iteos began, but he was interrupted when both sets of doors behind them were opened roughly, and two dishevelled figures came inside the room. They had arrived half a day earlier, Victor having only been informed of their presence an hour before the meeting had started.

The first person to enter the room was a towering man with long, brown hair and bulging muscles. He was unshaven and his hair was filthy, a result of having travelled for many days with nary a break. The other man was small and thin, almost skeletal. His head was as covered with stubble as his face, and a disorderly and pointy beard jutted out from his chin. He was wearing what looked like the undergarment that the Royal Guards wore. Victor didn´t know the man personally, but he had a strong feeling that he'd seen him on multiple occasions before the massacre of his guards had happened.

"Your Majesty," said the baroness, following the two men closely, "I present to you two survivors of the battle between Riveth and Agon."

The two newcomers kneeled, the thin man clearly having some problems with his knee judging by the way he limped and struggled with bending it to kneel.

"Gentlemen, that will not be necessary," Victor said hurriedly, waving his hands. "Will someone offer them chairs, for goodness´s sake?"

The giant of a man remained standing, his eyes staring directly into Victor's while the thin one sank gratefully into the expensive, upholstered chair that was offered to him. "Oof, tha's a load off, ain't it?" he exclaimed gratefully.

Upon hearing the accent, the man's identity clicked into place in Victor's mind, and he definitely remembered him now.

"What are your names, gentlemen?" Victor asked after a few seconds of awkward silence.

"Angen," the tower said.

"Sid, Yer Highness."

"And will you please recount your tale of survival to us?"

They looked at each other, and the one named Angen sighed and nodded. "I wasn't even a soldier anymore..."

The story lasted for well over an hour, with plenty of questions asked from both Victor and Sir Iteos in order to fill out details and other things. Victor asked a lot of questions about Rial, his relief that his best friend was still alive so strong that he almost felt like dancing with joy right then and there. He reigned himself in before it could come to that, however, maintaining a serious expression on his face. It was a very _serious_ subject, after all. He was glad to hear that the Sheikah was still alive as well, despite his injuries, but the Hero of Time was still missing, unfortunately. And when the time came for the battle to be described, there was not a single person that wasn't cringing when Sid told them about _The Chimera_ 's wake of destruction. Iteos was shaking his head at that, pursing his lips in a manner that told Victor that he had clearly lost interest in pursuing the king's plans.

"And when was it, exactly, that you got away?" the knight asked. "During, or after the battle?"

The two looked at each other, and Sid shrugged. "During, I'd say."

"Why?"

Victor looked at Iteos, wondering whether or not the knight was just trying to kill time now.

"What d'ye mean, Sir...?" Sid trailed off, making a big show of trying to place the man's name.

"Iteos," the knight clarified. "And I mean why did you run away in the middle of a battle?"

"Now wait just a minute—"Angen began, but Sid held up a hand in order to make him quiet.

"Run away, Sir Knight?" he said, refusing to speak Iteos' name in a manner of great disrespect. "We didn't _run away_. We were ordered t' go." His voice was quiet, resting on a knife's edge while his eyes bored into those of Iteos. "Ordered t' get outta there...and report to th' king. 'Cause he was the only one that would b'lieve us."

"By whom?" Victor asked, remaining hopeful.

"By the captain, Sire," Angen answered. "By Rial."

Victor smiled. "Thank you, Mr. Angen, Sid...what was your rank in the Royal Guard, again?"

"Corporal, sir."

"Make that Sergeant Sid."

The corporal-turned-sergeant nodded in gratitude.

"I shall see to it that your inn is rebuilt when all this is over, Mr. Angen."

"It would be too much, Sire."

"Not at all. Do you know what happened after the battle? Perhaps the whereabouts of Riveth and her remaining army?"

"Somewhere in Freyborough would be my best guess," Sid said, shrugging. "They're certainly no' dead."

"How do you know?" Iteos asked.

"Because Riveth's too hard a woman to go down that easily," Angen replied. "Believe me, I know. I served under her for a while."

Victor smiled and clapped his hands together in a very un-kingly manner. "Well, there you have it, my lords and ladies. There is a very good chance Riveth is still alive and just rearing to have another go at Agon and the conspirators. I realise that I am asking a lot of you...but I feel that I have gathered the best of the best in this room...and if I cannot count on your support, then I fear that our fair country will be lost to treason and subterfuge. Please...help me."

The entire room fell silent for a solid minute, and the king began to feel cold sweat beading on his forehead. Had he failed so miserably that he couldn't even convince a roomful of people with this kind of evidence? He glanced at Iteos, who was shaking his head, and then at Angen and Sid, who were giving him helpless looks.

Then Lord Reimos, with his grand belly and wiggling jowls, rose from his chair, cleared his throat and spoke, "I, Kol Reimos of the House Reimos, hereby pledge my undying loyalty and support to His Majesty King Victor of Lumina. I shall not rest until every last of the conspirators are dead or jailed—preferably the former—and the power has truly been restored to the throne." He put a hand on his chest and bowed as deeply as he could (which wasn't _very_ deep because of his gut) and looked into Victor's eyes. "To the death, Your Majesty."

That triggered a chain reaction, and one by one, the last loyal noble houses of Lumina pledged their support to Victor, which made the king smile in gratitude. This was it, the first step on the road to redemption.

The only one who didn't speak or even acknowledge what was happening was Iteos, who was yawning where he stood. He had moved closer to Victor, surreptitiously so. Then he moved even closer, to the point where he could actually speak and be heard above the cheering from the nobles who were congratulating each other for their...nobility, as it were.

"A nice speech and plea, Your Majesty," Iteos said, frowning. "But I am not convinced."

Victor mirrored the frown. "What _would_ convince you, then, Sir Iteos?" he asked.

"I have a proposition, Your Majesty, if you would care to hear it?"

"Certainly."

"I'd rather speak to you in private, Your Majesty. It is a matter best left to our ears only."

"I'm sure we can speak in the study next door. Follow me."

They quietly slipped away from the meeting (which was quickly turning into a _very_ pre-victory celebration) and entered the small study. Victor recognised the portrait of the late Baron Denal on the wall above the desk. Victor stood in the middle of the room, waiting for Iteos to speak.

"Your proposition?" the king asked.

Iteos hesitated, but then a grin came to his face and his shoulders lowered. "I don't believe in wrapping matters up in a pleasant-looking package, Your Majesty, so I'm just going to say it. I'm sure you've heard tales of my exploits, both domestic and abroad?"

Victor nodded. He'd had Ise recite a few of them to him. They were...very raunchy. There was apparently no one the knight wouldn't hesitate to sleep with or kill if it would gain him something. He had a feeling this was about money, and was preparing himself for the outrageous sum he would demand.

"So, you already know that I have attained a...sizeable record?"

Victor nodded again. "Name the sum and the money will be yours."

Iteos looked confused. "Money?" he asked. "I am not interested in money."

Now it was Victor's turn to be confused. "No? Then what are you asking for?"

Iteos quickly closed the distance between them, staring deeply into the king's mismatched eyes. "You, Your Majesty."

It was like his brain shut down completely, and all Victor could was to gape at the slightly older man. "I-I b-beg your p-pardon?" he stuttered forth.

"I believe you heard me quite clearly, Your Majesty," Iteos said, any trace of hesitation gone now and replaced by endless swagger and steely confidence. "My price for fighting for you...is you." He grinned and let his eyes roam Victor's uniformed body, making appreciative sounds. "You are a very attractive man, _Victor_..." He began to walk around the king, studying him closely. The king was taking on the appearance of a tomato now, blushing furiously. "In my many travels and adventures, I have had many bed partners...commoners, farm girls, farm boys, traders, merchants, nobles...princes, princesses, queens...but never a king. I should very much like to add you to my record." He stopped just behind Victor, breathing into the king's ear. "You already have a sizeable force out there...but my men and I would be the final drop needed to win. Be mine for one night. Just _one_ night...and I will fight tooth and nail for your right to rule."

His face on fire, Victor gulped. When the knight's tongue darted out to lick the shell of his ear, he gasped and pulled away from the man, who merely chuckled in amusement. How _dare_ he suggest such a thing?

"T-that will n-not be n-necessary, Sir I-Iteos," he stuttered. "I f-feel that the army I a-already have will be sufficient."

Iteos sighed dramatically. "Oh, that is a pity...I was hoping to not have to pull out my trump card already." He strode over to the king, grabbed the collar of his uniform and slammed him against the wall, trapping Victor. "You say no to a kindly offer like that as if it was nothing," he said, speaking quietly. He kept the struggling king in place with his body with hardly any effort at all, his strong and hard muscles pressing against Victor's comparatively tiny frame. "Perhaps, then, I should tell you that I heard everything you said in the crypt to the baroness' late son? About how it was your fault that he died, that everything that's happening is a result of something _you_ did?"

"You...spied on me?" Victor said, ceasing the struggle.

"I was down there in order to have a quiet smoke to myself," Iteos explained, grinning viciously now. "Wasn't expecting to have an opportunity to eavesdrop on a king that is apparently a traitor to his own kingdom."

Victor felt despair welling up inside of him before he realised that he hadn't said anything _truly_ incriminating whatsoever to Leonard's grave, and growled at Iteos. "I've no idea what you're talking about!"

"Don't play coy with me, Your Majesty," Iteos said. "You know as well as I that if I were to voice my lack of confidence to the nobles in the next room and tell them about what I heard in the crypt, they would immediately start asking questions and distrust you. The truth, whatever that is, will come out sooner or later, and by then you will have _two_ groups of traitors to deal with. Or perhaps I will simply go to Councillor Rehm and tell him about your plans...that will surely put an end to the insurgency before it has even begun." He rested his forehead against Victor's and released another sigh. "And to think all that can be avoided by simply agreeing to what I want...for one night..."

Victor realised he was trapped, both literally and figuratively. He knew the fickle nature of nobles and the way they would react to something like this. There would be no mercy.

"I...could have you killed for this, you know," he tried, feebly pushing against the much stronger knight. He didn't budge.

"By the sound of it, you don't even have someone to wipe your arse for you anymore, Your Majesty," Iteos chuckled. "Much less any loyal guards who can...take care of problems like me. The truth is, _Victor_ , that you need me. Me, and my men. I do not understand why this is so hard for you to accept."

The king looked away, avoiding the ex-mercenary's eyes, but Iteos grabbed his chin with one hand and made Victor look at him. "One night...of immense pleasure. And I'm yours."

He tried to resist, but in the end, Victor lost. He nodded, shame overcoming him. "Very well," he whispered, feeling ashamed and hoping Rial wouldn't judge him.

* * *

"I have to admit, this experience has not softened my position on magic," Rial said, brushing a hand through his hair. It was greasy. It had been a while since he´d had a chance to properly clean it. He looked at his aunt. "And you said it´s not dangerous?"

Riveth shrugged. "I never said it wasn´t dangerous, just that the benefits outweigh the costs. Wasn´t expecting this to happen, though."

They watched the unconscious Sheikah lying on the floor of Ard and Erd´s tent, the twins scurrying around as they tried to figure out a way to wake him up. They´d tried all the "traditional" ways. Kicking, screaming, and pouring a bucket of water over him. Nothing worked. They had truly sealed Sheik´s mind within his own body-which opened up a whole set of metaphysical conundrums that Rial was in no mood to start contemplating. The clerk, Jeryd, was sitting by Sheik´s side, wringing his hands nervously and talking to him every now and then. It was a sad sight indeed on many levels.

"I'm sorry, aunt, I just don't see a use for them if this is going to the result of their magic." He turned to her and frowned apologetically. "Not that it's going to matter, anyway. We won't be able to last out here much longer."

"Have faith, nephew," Riveth said, patting his shoulder. "Something will come up." She avoided the magic issue this time, realising that Rial wasn't going to be convinced any time soon. The tent flaps were suddenly thrust aside and a soldier came inside. He leaned in to whisper something into Riveth's ear, but the general cleared her throat and pointed at Rial. "Talk to him. He's the commanding officer now, not me."

The soldier hesitated, but spoke quietly after a few seconds, "A scouting party has returned with prisoners, sir," he said, almost sounding bitter. Was it all because of the succession business, or something else?

"Prisoners? Agon's men?" Rial asked, ignoring the annoyance he felt at the soldier's behaviour. He couldn't blame him—he wasn't too thrilled about it himself.

"No, sir, outsiders," the soldier replied. "They're waiting in the command tent."

"I'll be right there."

"Sir."

The soldier left, and Riveth raised her eyebrows. "Mystery guests, huh?" she asked. "How exciting."

As they headed for the command tent, Rial wondered if Angen and Sid had reached civilization yet. He didn't really have an explanation for why he had decided to send the two away from the battle—it had just seemed like a good idea at the time. The purpose was for them to deliver a message to someone who could bring it to Victor and perhaps convince him to take some sort of action, but he supposed that was a thin thread of hope to cling to since Rehm and the conspirators seemed to be running the entire show now.

"Thinking heavy thoughts, hm?" Riveth said suddenly as they walked. "Care to share?"

"I'm just...worried," Rial admitted. "About the king."

"For political reasons, of course," Riveth said. There was no hint of irony in her voice. That just made it worse since he had a feeling she knew exactly why he worried about Victor so much.

"Friendship, actually," Rial said, ignoring the small blush that had come to his cheeks. It was the cold. Just the cold.

"Sure thing, nephew, sure thing."

They entered the tent, and Rial froze upon recognising one of the prisoners' faces. "You?" he exclaimed in disbelief.

The Hero of Time raised an eyebrow. "Me? Me what?"

"I know you," Rial continued, realising he wasn't sounding particularly intelligent. "You were at the festival when the king was murdered! You were with the Sheikah!"

One of the other prisoners, a purple-haired man with who had lost one side of his face to vicious-looking burn scars, chuckled slightly. "I can tell this is going to be a fun series of inquiries already." He opened his eyes and revealed red eyes identical to Sheik's.

"Aren't they always?" the final prisoner, a young Gerudo woman said. She was eyeing one of the female scouts who had brought them in. She looked uncomfortable under the dark-skinned prisoner's unashamedly lecherous gaze.

Rial shook his head at the display and looked at the scout leader. "Where did you find them?" he asked.

"Forest, sir. They were following one of the trails left by the army," he replied.

"I thought you had covered up those trails?"

"So did we, but they found it without trouble. The Gerudo is apparently a superb tracker."

"Guilty as charged," the Gerudo piped up. The purple-haired man rolled his eyes at her, to which she responded with a huff and a masterfully blown raspberry.

"They've been killing a bunch of Agon's scouts left and right," the scout continued. "We found several of the bodies. They were in...a rather grisly state."

"Never leave a job unfinished," Red-Eyes mused.

"Shut up, the both of you," Rial said warningly, listening to the rest of the report. He turned to Red-Eyes. "You said you had information?" he asked. "About what?"

"Agon, for example," Red-Eyes said. "His location, remaining numbers, and such..."

"You will write it all down and give me—"

"Where's Sheik?" the Hero suddenly exclaimed, his fists clenched and face screwed up in a grimace. He'd been waiting for an opportunity to ask for a while, it seemed, and his patience had run out. "Please, tell me he's here!"

Rial had been caught off-guard by the question, but Riveth took it in stride and smiled sadly, having deduced who the Hylian was based on...well, his appearance and the fact that he carried a weapon with the symbol of the Triforce embedded in the hilt. "He's here, don't worry," she said.

"Where?"

"I can take you to him, if you wish," she said.

"But, general—"

"Don't worry, captain, I shall keep him under close watch," Riveth said, winking at her nephew and nodding at the Hero. "Please, follow me."

The Hero looked hesitantly towards his two companions, but they only nodded and motioned him towards the general. "We'll catch up later," the Gerudo said, suddenly sounding a lot kinder than before. Nothing like the sarcasm she spewed at her other friend.

"Will someone remove his bonds, for pity's sake?" Riveth asked before they left the tent. "He's unarmed in a camp full of men and women with sharp, pointy sticks. I don't think he'll try anything stupid, do you?"

The snow crunched under their feet as Riveth led him towards the twins' tent. Riveth wondered how the Hero was going to react to Sheik's current state. With anger, most likely. And perhaps a few flying fists. She'd have to try stopping him if it came to that.

"I'm afraid there's been an accident," she began, knowing she had to lessen the impact or else something dire might happen. "With...your friend."

"What do you mean?" the young man asked, sounding excited and terrified at the same time. Sheik had told Riveth about him, that he was different from any other boy or man he had ever met. There seemed to be something perpetually innocent about him, and yet he carried himself like a tough and seasoned warrior—which was the least Riveth had expected from the famed Hero of Time. But not a trace of that particular warrior was anywhere to be found in the young, almost frightened face that was staring sup at her right now. She hadn't noticed that she was taller than him. "What happened?" he demanded.

"I don't really know the details since I don't understand how magic works, but my warlocks and Sheik were apparently trying to seal some sort of creature away, but they failed drastically and it had...consequences."

The Hero's eyes grew wide, and after a moment's pause, he muttered, "Where?"

She pointed him at Ard and Erd's tent, and he set off towards it so fast that snow flew everywhere. She could only stare after him, hoping that it hadn't been a mistake to tell him. She then followed him, walking slowly.

* * *

A million thoughts and mental images were going through Link's mind in the few seconds it took him to cross the distance between him and the tent. Why hadn't she been more specific? Was Sheik dead? Alive? Was the creature Speil? Was _it_ dead?

He tore open the tent flaps and strode inside—and froze at the sight of the scurrying twins, the unconscious Sheik and the nervous Jeryd. The twins and Jeryd froze as well upon spotting him, and an awkward silence settled upon them for a few seconds before Jeryd opened his mouth and said, "Link, is that you?"

"Jeryd," was all Link said before he more or less hurled himself at Sheik's still form, hands awkwardly hovering above the Sheikah—he had no idea whether he could touch him or not. His chest tightened considerably. It wasn't supposed to happen like this. Sheik was supposed to be awake and brooding when Link found him, and the reunion was going to full of happiness and butterfly kisses and, and...not _this_. "I missed you so much," he whispered and took Sheik's hand, kissing it.

No one said anything for at least ten minutes. Link kept his focus entirely on Sheik, taking in every detail of his lover's face, his chest, his hands... "What happened?" he demanded upon seeing that Sheik was missing two fingers on his left hand. "Who did this?" He glared at Jeryd. "Tell me!"

Jeryd jumped at the sudden shout, but recovered quickly and shook his head. "No one did that...it happened when we fell into the river the night we were separated. Blood poisoning. They had to be amputated..."

"You?"

"No, no, I have no experience with that sort of thing," the clerk said. "Someone else with medical expertise did it. Saved his life, most likely."

Link nodded slowly. This was all too much to take in at once. He looked at the silver-haired twins, who were keeping to the other side of the tent, watching him curiously and nervously. "Who are they?" he asked.

"That's Erd," Jeryd said and pointed at the short-haired boy, "and that's Ard. They're warlocks—"

"So _they're_ responsible for this?" Link exclaimed, standing up and reaching for his weapon, feeling foolish when he only gripped thin air. He'd forgotten that he had been disarmed by the scouts. The twins shrunk back from his rage, but that only made Link angrier. He took a step towards them, but Jeryd suddenly got in his way.

"This was no one's fault, Link," he said, his voice calm and collected and not at all nervous like it had been a few seconds earlier. "The...shadow interfered with the ritual. There was no way they could have stopped it."

"Why were you even going through with it in the first place?" Link demanded. "And what bloody ritual?"

"The answer to the first question is because Sheik wanted and agreed to it," Jeryd answered. "The second answer...well, I can't really explain it. Erd?"

The short-haired twin cleared his throat and spoke, a slight tremor in his voice. The long-haired twin was crouching in front of his brother, glaring at Link.

"It...it was a sealing spell made to create a prison for unruly spirits," Erd said. "Sheik said that the shadow had been tormenting him for months, and we offered to remove it...and the best option we could find was to seal it away inside him. That way, it wouldn't be able to do anything without Sheik's permission, but...it didn't like that and interrupted the ritual."

Link clenched his jaw. This was sounding dumber and dumber for every second. "What. Happened?" he demanded.

"The shadow materialised and...pulled Sheik's conscience with it into the seal..."

Link looked at Sheik. "So...you sealed Sheik away as well?" His rage was deflating now, realising that this was just the kind of trouble they both had a habit of getting involved in. "He...won't wake up?"

"We're trying our best, but...the seal is incredibly strong. It'll take something of equally incredible power to break it again."

"You're not strong enough?"

"We're still recovering from the last time," Erd said, looking embarrassed. "And...we're not entirely sure how we would do it."

The anger had dissipated now, and Link sank to the floor with a huff, his shoulders burdened by the same longing and sadness that had been weighing on him for the past few months once again. He had been so close... He sighed and clutched Sheik's hand tighter, entertaining for a moment the notion of Sheik waking up just because Link was touching him, but that was simply wishful thinking.

"I'm sorry, Link," Jeryd said, sounding miserable. "For everything."

"Don't be," Link said quietly, unable to make himself blame any of them for this. "It's no one's fault, like you said. Well, maybe a bit of Sheik's. He really should have known better, but...no, Speil is the one at fault here, as usual, and he'll get his due. I'll make sure of it." He sighed again, leaning forward and placing a kiss on Sheik's forehead. "Come on, Sheik, wake up..."

The Sheikah remained unconscious. On the outside, he appeared to be sleeping peacefully, his chest rising and falling slowly as he breathed, his body running through the routines even though the mind was gone.

Within the blonde boy, however, there was nothing but turmoil...

* * *

**Soul Remnants  
Chapter 34**

* * *

He woke up to the sound of curtains being pulled roughly aside and the sharp, stinging sunlight shining in his face. Victor groaned and made to roll over; trying to escape from the sun's harsh glare, but a prominent pain in his backside stopped him dead in his tracks. He briefly wondered why there was pain in such a place and tried to place the events of last night—

His eyes slammed open as he suddenly remembered what had happened. Shame quickly filled his entire being, and he felt sick to his stomach.

"Ah, you're up," the voice of Sir Iteos said as the knight himself appeared from behind a dressing screen. He was tying up the collar of his shirt, making no attempt to lessen the king's discomfort, mental or physical with the way he stared at him. "Thought you were going to sleep the whole day away...which, given last night, would have been understandable." He grinned smarmily at Victor before sitting down on the bed, reaching for his boots and beginning to tie them on.

Victor glared at him, but didn't respond. He had been taken advantage of, there was no way in hell he was going to allow this bastard to have any more fun at his expense. He steeled himself and prepared to roll out of bed and get as far away from the knight as he could, ready to grit his teeth and bear through the pain, but as he lifted the covers, he realised he was as nude as the day he was born.

His skin was covered in small bruises, most of them left behind by the ex-mercenary's lips and teeth. Victor blushed with even more shame. Not a single spot on his body had been left alone by Iteos. He felt sticky and clammy, and he sorely needed a bath...but that would mean getting out of the bed, naked, in front of a man he had come to hate utterly last night.

"What, are you going to give me the silent treatment?" Iteos asked, still grinning as he finished with his boots and threw on his jacket. It was a fine garment, clearly meant for someone of high standing and class. Iteos might have been a rich son of a bitch, but he was no gentleman. "Quite mature of you, Your Majesty," he continued and sat down on the bed again.

Victor intensified his glare, knowing he was being childish but ignoring it with all his might.

"I don't really understand what you are so angry about, Your Majesty," Iteos said, smiling genuinely now. It was a beautiful smile—it was definitely understandable how the knight had collected so many notches on various bedposts around the world. "Last night was a business transaction. I had my fun, and you'll get your army."

Victor looked away, secretly somewhat relieved. He hadn't dared to entertain the thought of Iteos simply taking his prize and then leaving Victor with nothing but a lingering ache to remember him by.

Iteos noticed the action, and shook his head. "Tch, you honestly expected me not to uphold my end of the bargain? How insulting..." He almost managed to sound genuinely hurt. "I did not get to where I am today by breaking contracts, verbal or written, Your Majesty. True, the road to my success has taken me through some...dark places, but in the end I am a businessman, and I know that going back on deals is bad form no matter what way you look at it." He scooted closer to the king, who was still looking away, lowering his voice to a seductive whisper. "Especially with such sweet...profits."

Damn the man and his sultry voice! It was almost enough to make Victor forget that he was angry with him, but luckily the ache was there to remind him.

"W-what's the plan now, t-then?" he asked, feeling embarrassed when he stuttered.

Iteos continued smiling. "Well, from what I understood of last night's plans, the nobles will retreat to their respective lands, gather their armies and meet up with each other at an agreed-upon spot to the north. From there, we will stay true and continue towards Freyborough, where we will hopefully link up with the remnants of Riveth's army...if they are still there, of course." He sighed. "The coming weeks will be busy."

"Then p-perhaps you should get going," Victor said, pulling the covers tighter around him. There was a lecherous quality to the way Iteos was looking at him, and he didn't like it. Reminded him too much of last night. It had indeed been a night of immense pleasure...for Iteos, at least. Not so much for the king. Some of the things that had been done to him...the very thought of them made him want to shudder.

"Indeed," Iteos agreed, nodding. "I have a long ride ahead of me before I meet up with my army." He stood up. "But at least I will have some interesting memories to keep me warm during the winter nights, eh?" He leaned down and looked into Victor's eyes. "Perhaps one for the road would be in order?"

It took Victor a second or two to realise what he was requesting. He answered by shaking his head, to which Iteos tsk-ed, reached behind Victor's head, grabbing a handful of hair and yanking him towards him, taking the king's already bruised lips in a rough kiss before letting him go, chuckling quietly as he headed for the bedroom door.

"You are by far the best one I've had yet, _Victor_ ," he said as he slipped through the door. "I pray that I will get to have you again someday."

The statement left the king feeling ashamed and disgusted. He lay in bed for at least an hour before calling for some of the baroness' servants, asking them to draw up a hot bath for him. He slid into the warm water in the tub and relaxed, just thinking about what he had been forced to do and what had been done to him, wondering if it was all worth it. Of course it is, he thought. It will bring peace to the kingdom...and Rial will be back in no time once the war is over. Perhaps even before. That's all I need.

That's...all I want.

* * *

The shadow was angry. Speil glared at Sheik as he circled the red-eyed youth, growling quietly. Sheik glared right back, fists at the ready.

The Sheikah had not taken kindly to the shadow kissing him and had shoved him backwards. When Speil had tried to do it again, he had been greeted by a rougher shove followed by a right hook to his jaw. A scuffle had ensued, and now they were doing this. All thoughts of attraction had gone out of the shadow's mind; all he wanted right now was to kick his pet's arse to hell and back. And, as far as he was concerned, they _were_ in hell already. He wondered if that negated his threat. It caused him to pause, wondering if he had just produced a mental contradiction. When he realised what he was doing, he shook his head and refocused on Sheik, who was still standing in a basic melee combat pose. He was waiting for Speil to strike first.

You wish, Speil thought. He wasn't stupid.

The "to hell and back"-train of thought kept coming back to him, and he felt frustration creeping up on him yet again. This happened all the time. He could barely think about something before a million other thoughts started to invade his head, all of them fighting and biting to be foremost in his mind. It left him irritable and angry, barely able to focus on what was happening around him. Nothing could settle it, nothing!

Nothing...except the creature standing before him. Or, the mental projection or image or whatever it was of him. Sheik...Sheik...Sheik...just thinking about his name was enough to calm his crowded mind. And looking at him...hearing his voice...it was indescribable how much the Sheikah would calm him down.

Well, it calmed him down when said Sheikah wasn't busy kneeing him in the bollocks. When he did that, it just pissed the shadow off.

"You will regret doing that," Speil said, rubbing his chin where Sheik had punched him. It amazed him that, despite everything around them—including them—wasn't real in a physical sense; it still bloody hurt where the knuckles had gotten him. "I will have to punish you severely, now."

"You're welcome to try," Sheik said defiantly, shifting his feet to improve his balance. "I'm ready."

"Big words coming from the little boy who sobbed when I began undressing him in the forest temple," Speil spat back. The words left his mouth before he even had a chance to think about them. They had the desired effect, however, as Sheik's face grew red with rage.

"I was not myself back then," the Sheikah said, his voice trembling—whether it was from the anger or the fear he remembered experiencing back then was impossible to know. Perhaps a combination of both? "I still thought you could...that we could...be..." He trailed off.

"Be what?" Speil asked, actually a little curious. More than a little, actually.

"Be...friends..." Sheik finished lamely, relaxing his stance slightly. Speil wasted no time in taking advantage of this and threw himself forward, kicking the Sheikah's legs out from beneath him. Sheik had barely hit the sand before Speil straddled him, holding his arms down firmly. Sheik struggled, but it was impossible to buck off the shadow's weight.

"Friends?" Speil said, lowering his head until his face was inches apart from Sheik's. "You thought we could be...friends?" He laced his voice with venom, making sure that the Sheikah understood exactly how little he thought of that idea. "Just how...how did you think that was going to go?"

"I...I don't know," Sheik said, ceasing his struggling, looking into the shadow's eyes with sincerity. "I thought that...perhaps you were becoming a better person, and...we could be allies."

Speil froze, but then he began to laugh at the sheer ridiculousness of the Sheikah's idea. "Listen to me carefully now, pet," he said and lowered his voice to a throaty whisper. "You and I...can never be friends. I once thought that we could be something more than that, but you crushed that hope in the temple. I still want you, but only as my slave...that is all you are good for." He shoved himself off of Sheik and stood up, turning his back on the boy and staring out at the boiling sea. "You ruined everything that night."

"You _did_ kill me, remember?" Sheik said sarcastically.

The tone ignited another spark of anger in Speil, but he fought it down. He was tired of this game. It had to end. "It was your fault. You knew how I felt, and you still betrayed me."

"I didn't betray you!" Sheik exclaimed, climbing to his feet. "Link was the one I loved from the start! The only reason I even _considered_ liking you was because you reminded me of him! _You're_ the one who deluded yourself into thinking I could ever love _you_ like I love _him_!"

The words stung him, even though Speil had promised himself that he wouldn't let it get to him anymore. Of course it was the Hero. Of course it was Link. Of course it was his hated Light. He gritted his teeth and blocked the pain out. No, he was stronger than this.

"You picked a worthy mate, all things considered," the shadow said. He hadn't even thought about it, the words just came out of him. He had no idea where he was going with this. "But...don't you ever wonder if you're good enough for him?"

He heard Sheik breathe behind him for a few seconds before he replied, "No. He wouldn't be with me if I weren't."

"Or perhaps he is with you because you're the only one he knows on such an...intimate level." Speil turned around, looking Sheik up and down. He did not regret not giving the Sheikah a shirt. He enjoyed the sight of the taut upper body. The multiple scars, including the big one on his chest, left by Speil's own sword, only added to the beauty. "Think about it...you were the only individual my Light had prolonged contact with after his seven years of sleep...you were his only friend. Was it even love that grew within him? Or did he just mistake it for something else? He was a growing man...lust is not always logical at that age, and it's easy to confuse with love. Maybe he is still making that same mistake?"

His mind was absolutely quiet now, his focus completely on the Sheikah, who was now looking very doubtful. This was...a beautiful moment.

"No...No, he loves me," Sheik said, his voice growing a little weaker. "He's an adult, he understands—"

"Does he, though?" Speil asked. "He slept for seven years. Seven years during which he was supposed to learn and grow and mature...seven years he lost because of the war, because of your princess' plans. I remember you having doubts about his maturity back then. What stilled that doubt? Because you spent the night together? That is not a good indicator, is it? For all you know, he could still be a child in an adult's body—"

"That's not true," Sheik protested, clenching his fist. "The things he says, does...they're-they're not what a child would do."

"A child that wasn't forced to grow up in a matter of months as opposed to years, perhaps..." Speil didn't finish the sentence. He knew he wouldn't have to. The doubt was apparent in the Sheikah's whole being now.

The shadow turned back to the sea, sighing. "It's impossible to know for certain, isn't it? Goddesses know what his mind looks like these days..."

He heard the sound of footsteps in the sand. Sheik was pacing around in a circle. His eyes were wide and empty, barely paying attention to what was going on around him.

"Debate with yourself all you want, pet," Speil said. "You know what I have said is true."

"Not true," Sheik rebutted. "Just...possible."

"You never were an optimist, though..."

"I...I need to think." Sheik looked around. "This beach goes on forever, does it?"

"As far as my mind can reach...which is quite far," Speil said, grinning a little.

"Right," the Sheikah said, turning his back on the shadow and staring off into the mist surrounding them. "Don't follow me," he added before stalking off into the mist. The sound of his footsteps soon disappeared, replaced by the crashing of the waves against the shore.

Speil sat down in the sand, sighing. Maintaining this place was doing a number on his stamina. He wondered what would happen if he stopped holding it up. Would Sheik disappear?

He sighed again. The things he had just said were awful...and not entirely honest. Not the things about the Hero. Those were probably all true, but that there was no love present anymore...those were all lies.

"I never stopped hoping..." he whispered to himself, staring at the sea.

* * *

It's like he's sleeping, just so deeply that not even the end of the world will wake him up. That he looks so peaceful has to be a good sign, right? I'm not just humouring myself, am I? Please, wake up...please...

These thoughts, and endless variations of them, kept running through Link's head as he stayed by Sheik's side at all hours. There wasn't much else he could do, really. They were alone in the tent. Jeryd had gone off to have something to eat. Link had practically ordered him to after finding out that the clerk hadn't left Sheik alone even for a second after the incident.

The twins had retreated to Riveth's tent after Kafei had discovered what had happened. The purple-haired Sheikah had not taken kindly to what they had done, accidentally or not. They had been lucky Elenwe was there to drag him outside and slap him silly until he calmed down. Where the two were right now, Link didn't know, but as long as they weren't starting fights with the twin warlocks, all was good.

Well, except for the unconscious blonde next to Link, of course.

Link had felt guilty for demanding that Ard and Erd fix the problem, especially after remembering how much magic took out of the user. Vorpheus had, after all, almost fainted after using powerful spells. He didn't know what it would do to fifteen-year-olds... They were resting now, recuperating while desperately working on a way to break the seal.

It had been half a day since the trio's arrival at Riveth's camp, and things were not looking good. Link had expected everything to be fine after reuniting with Sheik, but it had only offered more problems to solve, including the fact that they were now in the middle of an army camp that was hiding from a much more superior fighting force that could easily wipe them out the second they found it...and on top of that, a civil war had broken out. And they were in the middle of _that_ too!

It was so ridiculous it made the Hero chuckle bitterly. "We can never do anything without ending up in a war, can we?" he asked the unconscious Sheik. He wondered if his lover could hear him. Maybe he could, but was left unable to respond in any way.

He didn't want to imagine how horrible that would be and quickly banished the thought, replacing it with hope that it was just a very deep sleep. That had to be it. Anything else would be...awful beyond belief.

"Hey," Jeryd said as he entered the tent, carrying a steaming mug of something that smelled faintly of spices. "Brought you some stew." He sat down next to Link and handed him the bowl. "It's not much, but it'll still the worst of the hunger."

"Not really hungry," Link said, but began to slurp the stew up nevertheless. It was savoury and mildly spiced. He didn't recognise the taste, but it was not unpleasant.

"How is he?" Jeryd asked with a crooked smile on his face that signalled to the Hero that he knew it would be impossible to know.

"The same," Link replied anyway.

"The twins are working hard on finding a way to wake him up again."

"I know."

The silence was awkward.

"He never stopped talking about you, you know," the clerk said. "Your name was...probably every second word that left his mouth."

"I never stopped talking about him either, I think, but you'd have to ask Kafei about that...but I doubt he's in the mood for idle chat like that. He was so excited about seeing Sheik again..."

"So...are they...related, or something?" Jeryd asked, genuinely curious. "I mean, they have to be, both of them being Sheikah and all, but..."

"Distantly, apparently. Cousins. Thrice removed, maybe...I dunno, he didn't go that deep into the details."

"And the girl?"

"Unrelated. Partners. But I think Elenwe wishes it was something more. But don't tell her I said that, she'll probably kill me. And then you."

"Scary..."

"The Gerudo generally are unless you know them well."

"You've experience with them, then?"

"More than I'd like, in hindsight." Link thought of Ayla and was unable to keep a smile from his face. "No, they've done right by us, and we by them."

"Ah...good to know."

The silence was even more awkward this time. Link finished his stew and put the empty mug down on the floor and resumed holding Sheik's hand. It was frustrating, this. He had searched for so long, only to find this...it made him want to tear his hair out. He just wanted a sign, some semblance of proof that Sheik would wake up at some point...but he got nothing...

Nothing...

* * *

Elenwe wiped the sweat off her brow after doing up her trousers. Her legs were slightly shaky, and she had to lean against the tree in order to stay on her feet. She looked at Kafei, who had his back turned as he also replaced his trousers.

"You didn't have to be so rough..." she muttered sourly.

"Sorry," Kafei said in earnest as he turned to face her, an apologetic look on his face. "I...got carried away. I was angry."

"I know...and you were going to take it out on those adorable boys if I didn't distract you." She crossed her arms, realising that what they had just done, and the soaking sweat that came with it, was not conducive to keeping warm in the middle of the winter. She shivered slightly. "It's not their fault, you know."

Kafei looked away, still sorry for being less than gentle. "They sealed his mind away, E..."

"No, the shadow-thing dragged his mind with it into its prison...there was no way they could have foreseen it." She stepped forward and put a hand on his unscarred cheek. "They're doing their best to fix it."

"It shouldn't have happened to begin with..."

"No, but it's still not right to blame them for it. If anything, it was Sheik's own fault for agreeing to the ritual to begin with. But playing the blame game isn't going to help anyone, so just let it go and focus on what's important: getting him back." She kissed him on the cheek, knowing that this was as far as she would be allowed to go. "Come on, let's get back to camp before anyone realises we've been gone for over an hour."

He silently agreed and followed her along the path they'd taken to the sheltered copse. The silence was awkward, like always. She knew exactly why, too, but...this was the only way she got to...

She had breached the question once, and that had ended in a huge fight after which they hadn't spoken to each other in weeks. And yet they continued doing this whenever the stress of their profession became too much. It probably wasn't healthy, in the long run, but it was also the only way they were able to cope with the pent-up aggression and frustration. But it was impossible to ignore the fact that this was going to put even more stress on their friendship sooner or later...hopefully, it would be later. _Much_ later.

The camp was almost completely silent when they came back, having slipped quietly by the lookouts. They immediately headed for the twins' tent, aiming to have Kafei apologise for threatening them with bloody murder and what else his admittedly twisted mind could come up with.

They were only greeted by the faces of Link and Jeryd, however. They silently nodded to each other in greeting and Kafei sat beside Sheik, opposite of Link.

"Hey, Sheik," he said quietly, brushing a loose bang out of his cousin's face. "This wasn't how I imagined we'd meet again. I figured we'd...encounter each other in a dark alley somewhere, and we would have dramatic words, perhaps even a small fight before realising that we...that _I_ have been stupid..." He sighed. "This wasn't how it was supposed to go."

"Yeah," Link concurred.

"The warlocks?" he asked the Hero.

"Riveth's tent. You scared them."

"I...can't say it wasn't my intention, but I realise it was wrong of me to react that way."

"They'll understand, I think."

"Yes..."

It was the most awkward of silences that fell upon them now.

Elenwe and Jeryd felt like they didn't belong in the tent at the moment and excused themselves and went outside.

"The shadow..." Kafei said suddenly, looking at Link. "It must die."

"You won't find anyone who agrees more with you on that," Link said, staring at the Sheikah. "But it's not as easy as you think...if it's as entwined with Sheik as we think it is, then destroying its body isn't gonna do a thing..."

"No, it won't...strong magic would be needed to completely eradicate it, but having witnessed what the only magic users nearby did, I'm sceptical of asking them..."

"I guess..."

Their conversation was interrupted by a sudden commotion erupting somewhere in the camp. Men and women began shouting at each other as they were roused from their sleep, confusion taking over.

"E, what's going on?" Kafei shouted.

Elenwe, her voice muffled by the tent cloth, replied, "Scouts have come back with some sort of report...something about Agon...Oh, crap..."

"What?" Link demanded.

"He's found the camp!" Jeryd exclaimed as he came through the flap, closely followed by the Gerudo. "He's on his way here with his men!"

Kafei cursed inwardly. They must have had a scout ghosting our ghosts, he thought. Stupid, I should have realised!

"How far away are they?" Link asked.

"We don't know," Elenwe said. "We couldn't hear."

The look on Link's face reflected what they all were thinking right at that moment:

"Shit."

* * *

**Soul Remnants  
Chapter 35**

* * *

Princess Zelda sighed as she took her tea on the balcony. The inn she had moved into after the final battle against Ganondorf had more or less become her temporary palace while construction on the new Hyrule Castle was underway. Since the grounds where the mighty castle had once stood had fallen away after the Gerudo king had exerted his dark influence, leaving a yawning abyss in its wake, the site for the castle had been relocated to the north-east corner of the city. However, the castle still wasn't habitable, so she remained at the inn for the time being.

It had been at least a week since she had sent Kaiza back to Sheik with her reply to his message, and she was quite sure the falcon would have had the time to deliver it and return, but so far...nothing. She was worried.

"Your Highness," a servant girl said as she set a small tray filled with various pastries on the table next to her tea. As she turned to leave, Zelda cleared her throat in a very non-surreptitious way to get the girl's attention.

"Any news from the Gerudo Fortress?" the princess asked.

"None yet, Your Highness," the girl said, shaking her head sadly. "Shall I have the kitchen boy run to the south gate and ask?"

"No, that will not be necessary," Zelda replied, smiling and nodding, dismissing the girl. Disappointment number two of the day. After she'd gone, the princess helped herself to a chocolate éclair. As she chewed she looked up at the ever-present smoke ring over Death Mountain, wondering how far the Gorons had gotten on sealing the Fire Temple when something glinted. It was a golden colour, and Zelda smiled in relief when she realised what it was.

Kaiza shrieked as she approached the castle at great speed, diving towards the princess at a speed which surely would have caused great harm to the Hylian had the falcon not righted herself halfway down and slowed down considerably. Zelda, on reflex, raised her arm to allow the falcon to perch herself on it.

"Hello, girl," the princess said, smiling. "You've been gone for a long time, haven't you?" She liberated the metal tube from the falcon's leg and allowed Kaiza to jump down onto the table, where she immediately gorged herself on the pastries, which was—as far as Zelda knew—quite contrary to what falcons usually ate. Ignoring the creamy massacre happening in front of her, she opened the tube and unrolled the piece of parchment inside. She immediately recognised Sheik's elegant, if somewhat smudged and hurried handwriting.

What began as a joyful read—her relief from actually hearing back from her adoptive little brother was immense—quickly turned into one of shock as Sheik recounted everything that had happened. So much death and carnage in so little time... Shock turned into horror, horror turned into fear, and fear turned into anger. Her entire being trembling with rage, she rose from her seat and bellowed for someone—anyone—to come immediately.

The same servant girl from before appeared before the princess, almost quaking with fear at the sight of the enraged monarch. "Y-your Highness?" she asked hesitantly.

"The detachment of soldiers from Lumina..." Zelda said slowly. "The ones helping us with rebuilding Castle Town..."

"Y-yes?"

"Bring me their commander. I have some...inquiries."

* * *

The atmosphere inside the command tent was so tense and thick that it could have been cut with a knife. Riveth, Rial and the remaining officers were crowded around a hastily drawn map of the area, courtesy of the scouts that had spotted the approaching Agon and his army.

"We couldn't have picked a worse spot to fight," Rial concluded. "No real terrain to take advantage of, nowhere to escape if things go south, which, knowing our luck, is inevitable." He pointed at the spot close to where the army would appear from among the trees. "And the bastard is coming from the only direction in which an army can move quickly enough to get away. He's got us trapped."

"It would appear so," Riveth concurred, shaking her head. "Quite a corner we've painted ourselves into."

"We should have kept moving instead of stopping here," a lieutenant whose name Rial couldn't remember said. "Retreated to a more defensible spot."

"Thank you for that insightful comment, lieutenant," Riveth said without looking up and without a trace of irony or sarcasm in her voice. "But the fact remains that we are here, and this is where we will fight. Whether or not we're going to win is, of course, still up for bets."

If Rial had to be honest, he would have placed his bet on Agon's side. Experienced as Riveth's men were, they were still humans, and humans needed food, sleep and proper shelter to function properly, none of which they had been able to get adequate amounts of during their involuntary camping out here.

He glanced behind him. Ard and Erd were sitting in a corner, having a hushed conversation under their breaths. Something had scared them out of their own tent—the Sheikah newcomer, apparently—and they had set up camp there. Ard—or was it Erd?—was flipping through a thick volume, pointing and whispering. To their credit, they were hard at work trying to fix the mistake they made.

He refocused his attention on the strategising. He looked at the leader of the scouts. "What numbers are we talking about? What specialisation?"

"About three hundred, more or less," the scout said. "We didn't get a completely accurate count, of course, but they definitely outnumber us. As for specialisation...mostly swords, a few spears and archers. And Agon himself, surrounded by his elite guard."

"Few archers?" Riveth asked. "That's not like him...he's a pig-headed bastard with a fondness for direct combat, that's for sure, but he's never been one to skimp on ranged units if he feels the need to use them."

"He intends to finish us man to man, then," Rial said. "He wants it to be honourable."

"If he truly wanted it to be honourable, he would come here with an even number of soldiers," a sergeant said, growling. "He only wants it to _look_ honourable."

"Probably to ease his own conscience," Riveth added.

"So...what do we do?" Rial asked. "We can't beat them on open ground, not with the shape we are in right now...and, even if we were in top physical condition, he'd still have us outnumbered...we don't have a single advantage."

"We have heart, though," Riveth said, grinning at her nephew. "There's always that. And we are in the right. If we are going to die, we will die knowing that. And, of course, it will be a glorious last stand."

"A glorious last stand that no one will know about because we'll be wiped from the pages of history," Rial said. "What happens in Freyborough stays in Freyborough, isn't that what they say?"

"So...we are really just here to plan on how we are all going to commit suicide by way of assisted decapitation?" Riveth asked. "Wonderful."

"What else do you want me to say?" Rial exclaimed at his aunt, surprising himself with how angry he suddenly was. "We don't have enough men, we are all starving and exhausted, we have nowhere to run, nowhere to hide! I don't have any idea how to get us out of this, but I don't hear any of _you_ coming up with something either!"

At least the other officers had the decency to look sheepish. It was true; none of them had any idea what to do. Not even Riveth, though she only looked peacefully at her nephew, smiling slightly. When Rial looked at her questioningly, she only shook her head slightly. The shrew knew something, but there was no way she was going to tell him, apparently.

Puzzled, he looked back at the map. Between their camp and the edge of the forest was a wide, open space. The ground was mostly flat, and the earth beneath was, according to a soldier who had a much looser grasp on the art of cultivation than he had on his sword, of the "crumbly kind". They'd had to bury a few men and women who had died of their injuries a few days before, and while the earth was supposedly quite easy to dig in during the summer, it had turned hard as rock in the early winter.

It was a pity, really. If it hadn't been, Rial could have thought of something to turn it to their advantage, but with the current temperature, that was impossible. He looked around the tent again, turned his attention to the twins...

An idea struck him right then, and he wondered how he could have been so stupid to not think of it before now. He turned his attention to the scout leader again. "How long until Agon reaches us, do you reckon?"

"Three hours, maybe a little more," the scout said. "We wouldn't be able to reach the main road before crossing their path, however."

"I never said anything about going anywhere, did I?" Rial said, looking at Riveth. "I have an idea," he said.

"Let's hear it, captain," she said, still smiling.

"It's risky, and it might not even be doable..."

"No such thing as a bad idea in times like these, captain."

Rial looked at the officers, who were, for once, paying rapt attention to him. "In desperate times, desperate measures and...dishonourable methods are called for, are they not?"

"Considering that the bastard we're fighting isn't too honourable himself, I say hell yes," the sergeant from before said. There was a murmur of agreement around the table, and Rial looked at the twins again. Ard and Erd had realised that there had been a development and were paying attention as well.

Rial looked right back at them. "It depends on these two being up for it, however..."

* * *

"So...what do we do?"

Link, Jeryd, Kafei, Elenwe and Sheik were gathered in the twins' tent. Or, the first four were gathered, Sheik was only there as an observer, really. Not that he could observe all that much from his current condition, but...the point was taken by all.

Link looked up at Elenwe, who had asked the question. "What do you mean?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Kafei asked. "Are we going to stay here, fight and most likely die, or are we turning our proverbial tails and fleeing for our lives like the supposedly cowardly survivors we are?"

"We can't just leave," Jeryd said. "I mean, what about Sheik?"

"We'll carry him, of course," Link said, and his voice left no room for discussion. Not that anyone was going to open it for debate anyway, but the Hero felt it was necessary nonetheless. "We'd take turns."

"If we were to choose that plan of action, we'd have to execute it right now," Kafei said. "Every second we spend talking here is another second for the enemy to move closer. Most likely, they'll be surrounding the camp to prevent anyone from escaping before moving in with the main force. Since I assume we wouldn't be leaving through the main entrance to the clearing..."

"We can't leave," Elenwe said quietly, looking disheartened. "It's a matter of logistics, really. We've no supplies, no way of navigating through the forest, we're wanted fugitives and...well, there a million other factors that I haven't bothered taking into account because they all spell the inevitable doom we would face if we left."

"Optimistic as always, E," Kafei said.

"Thank you, K, it's what I'm here for."

"So...we stay, and fight," Jeryd said. "And most likely die."

"Hey, a fellow optimist," Elenwe said.

"Logistics again," Jeryd replied, smiling a little at her joke. "Based on the status reports I've...procured from the command tent, we stand no chance of winning this fight on even ground."

"So we need to cheat," Link said.

"But how?" Kafei asked.

As the discussion of using subterfuge began, Link looked down at Sheik, taking in every detail of his lover's face. The pale, mostly flawless skin, the small patch of hair that had started to appear on his chin, the soft lips, the twitching nose...

Twitching nose?

Link was at Sheik's side in an instant when he realised that something was definitely going on in there.

"Sheik? Sheik, are you there? Can you hear me? Sheik?" This continued for a few minutes, the others waiting with bated breaths, hoping for any sign of the youngest Sheikah's awakening...but no answer was forthcoming, and the twitching stopped a few seconds later, leaving the Hero of Time more disappointed and miserable than ever.

"I'm sorry, Hero," Kafei said, patting his shoulder. "I know how you must feel..."

Link took little comfort in that.

The discussion was about to resume when they heard suddenly approaching footsteps and the tent flap was pushed aside, revealing Erd supporting an exhausted-looking Ard and Rial. Kafei bared his teeth at the twins, but Erd ignored it and quickly helped Ard to sit down next to the unconscious Sheik, whispering to his brother all the while.

"Why are you all looking so glum?" Rial asked with an uncharacteristic grin on his face.

"What have you been drinking to look so jolly in the face of death, captain?" Jeryd countered.

"Face of death? Hah, you do amuse me sometimes, Jeryd," Rial said and looked at them. He was carrying a shovel, Link noticed. "Anyway, I was wondering if any of you are interested in showing General Agon what for by embarrassing him completely."

"How?" Elenwe asked.

"No time to explain, really. I need every able hand you can spare. Leave one of you behind to guard your friend."

"And the rest of us?" Kafei said, sounding sceptical.

"Grab a shovel," Rial replied.

* * *

The remnants of Riveth's army were a pitiful sight, even when lined up in battle formations with grim determination on their faces. A part of it had to do with their lack of numbers, but mostly it was because they were all covered in layers of dirt. Not a single man or woman would have been presentable at a royal ball.

Rial stood at the very front of the formations, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. Surprisingly enough, he felt confident about the battle now, despite their clear disadvantage. He couldn't let himself get _over_ confident, however. Much could change over the coming hour. For one thing, his plan might well fail horribly and result in them all getting massacred. That was the worst outcome, though.

His aunt stood beside him, still smiling in the same peaceful way she had in the tent. "Feeling good about this, nephew?" she asked.

"As good as I probably can," Rial admitted. "The plan could fail, though."

"I'm sure it won't," she reassured him. "Agon will fall for it as long as you stick to it and don't let the anxiety get to you."

"Yeah..."

* * *

The army had assembled almost in the middle of the camp, as far away from the entrance to the clearing as possible. The archers were at the back, ready to rain a pitifully small amount of death on the enemy with every spear- and swordsman in front of them, ready to charge.

Among them were Link, Elenwe and Kafei. They had all held a vote and decided that Jeryd should be the one to stay behind and protect Sheik and the twins. He was the least experienced combatant, after all, and would most likely be in the way for everyone else were he to be on the frontline. Besides, Link had a feeling that Ard and Erd...or Erd, at least, would pitch in with protecting the sleeping Sheikah.

And yet...he desperately wanted to be by Sheik's side. But Kafei had convinced him that his place was here, where he could make sure none of the bastards would even get _close_ to the tent. And make sure he would indeed. With extreme prejudice.

"Given the approximate number of combatants, this battle will be a short one," Kafei said. "They outnumber us, but only barely. However, they will be better prepared."

"Thank you, we don't need an analysis, I think," Elenwe said. "Either the plan works and we scrape ourselves a victory, or the plan fails and we all get slaughtered horribly. Honestly, we might as well flip a coin."

"I don't like gambling," the Sheikah said.

"Quiet," Link said. "Look."

They heard the approaching army before they saw it. The sound of at least three hundred pairs of footsteps thundering along the path before the lightly-armoured, blue-clad soldiers of Agon emerged from the trees, quickly arranging themselves into orderly box formations. They halted just beyond outside the trees, parting to give way to the general himself. There he stood, and waited.

"Here we go, I guess," Link said as he saw Rial take a white flag from a waiting soldier and walk towards the enemy army.

* * *

Rial's heart was racing as he marched firmly towards the waiting general, holding the white flag up for everyone to see. He had left his sword behind with his aunt, hoping to the gods that even Agon wasn't such a bastard that he'd cut down an unarmed negotiator. He walked in a completely straight line towards him, glad that Agon had chosen that particular position to halt. One misstep and everything would be over.

When he got close enough to actually see Agon's face, Rial realised that the general wasn't looking nearly as pleased as he had expected him to be. He almost looked...sad? The enemy soldiers didn't give him any grief and allowed him to approach the general without interference. He stopped a few feet away from Agon, attempting to plant the white flag in the frozen ground, but quickly gave up.

"Captain Vortan," Agon said, nodding. "A pleasure to see you still alive and kicking."

"General Agon," Rial said, nodding back. "I'm afraid I can't say the same, to be quite honest."

"And I do not blame you, captain," Agon replied. "Now, I can only assume that the white flag is, at best, an attempt at parley rather than a real surrender. Am I correct?"

"Quite so."

Agon sighed, shaking his head. "You never know when to quit, do you? I admire your stubbornness and tenacity, captain, I really do, but surely even you realise that there is no way you can win this battle? We have you out—"

"—numbered and etcetera, yes, yes, I know," Rial said, interrupting him. "And I told the men that as well, but they only told me to shove it up my arse. They'd rather die than surrender to you, it seems."

"Brave fools as they are," Agon said, nodding approvingly. "I cannot blame them as I would probably have similar feelings about it all if our positions were reversed." He looked behind Rial, studying the pitiful army before sighing again. "But this day does not have to end in bloodshed, captain. In fact, I have a rather powerful argument to field."

"And that is?" Rial asked.

"Do you know why I arranged to have your men massacred at the castle so many months ago?"

"Other than you being a complete and utter bastard, conspirator and traitor?"

"Quite accurate," Agon said, grinning a little. "It is true; I am indeed involved in the councillor's plans and have been for some time. However, as of late I have become...disillusioned with his grand scheme, of which he has told me very little. And frankly, the continued spilling of my fellow countrymen's blood has left me with very little desire to see it come to fruition."

This surprised Rial, and he raised an eyebrow. "So...you're saying you're going to rebel against him?"

"I have not yet decided how to proceed, captain, but yes, something like that." Agon nodded at him. "So I believe that we agree on at least one point."

"So...why are we even having this discussion? If we join forces—"

"That...will not happen, I'm afraid," Agon said, almost sounding apologetic. "While I have great distaste for Rehm and his schemes, I have even greater distaste for you and your rebel aunt. I need to be able to concentrate a hundred percent on how I shall put an end to Rehm, and I'm sorry to say this, I would not be able to do that knowing that you would be at my back, ready to stab me at a moment's notice. I'm sure you understand."

Rial nodded. He felt very much the same about the general. "So...this discussion is as pointless as giving a duck a harmonica, then?"

"Not entirely," Agon said, shaking his head at the simile. "If you were to surrender, captain, I could guarantee your men's safety and survival. I would, of course, have to execute you, Riveth and the officers, but the commoners would be allowed to spend the rest of their lives in relative comfort in prison—"

"That won't happen, general, I can guarantee it. Like I said, the men would rather die than surrender to you. I have a strong feeling they'd even slit their own throats if they had to."

"Admirable conviction." The words were as dry as Rial's lips. "So...we have reached an impasse."

"Indeed."

"There will be a battle."

"Yes."

"And only one side will survive. No mercy, no prisoners."

"No."

"Then we have nothing further to discuss, captain. I will give you time to return to your troops, but not much else."

"One more thing, general..."

"Yes—"Rial's face was suddenly inches away from his own, and he choked on his words.

"By the end of the day Agon," Rial whispered hoarsely, "there will be a big pile of dead soldiers bearing your insignia in the middle of this clearing. And at the top, there will be a pike. On that pike, your head will be skewered. And I will have placed it there. I swear to whatever gods that are out there, I will _kill_ you for what you have done, and I will enjoy doing it."

"Impressive threat, captain. Now, will you please piss off to your own side of the field so we can get this over with?" Agon said impassively.

Rial didn't even acknowledge the general's words as he turned around and headed back to his men, making sure to follow the exact same path he had taken through the snow on his way to the parley. That had been...oddly cathartic. It had felt good to level that threat against the man that had caused so much death all for...whatever sick plan Rehm had in mind for Lumina. And the nerve, claiming to be working against the old man now? _Hah, lies, all of it,_ he thought.

Upon returning to his own side, Riveth gave him a curious look. "Enlightening conversation, captain?" she asked.

"Hardly," Rial replied. "Prepare the archers. It's time to start."

"No speech?"

"No speech. Everyone knows what they're fighting for. That's all they need."

"Well said. Archers!"

* * *

There was no real need for Riveth's archers to fire in order to draw Agon into battle. Seconds after her archers let loose, the enemy charged at them, roaring and screaming to finish them off once and for all.

Rial and Riveth were standing in the middle of the first line of swordsmen, their weapons drawn and ready. Rial stared at the rapidly approaching enemy, tightening his grip on his sword. This was Lumina. This was for his men that were massacred. This was for...Victor.

"Rial," Riveth said quietly, her voice barely audible under the noise. "If this is the end...you've grown into a fine man, and it's been an honour and a pleasure to fight beside you."

"The honour was all mine, Aunt Drena."

When Agon's men were approximately thirty metres away from their line, it happened. About forty or fifty of Agon's men suddenly disappeared from view as the ground beneath their feet gave way and they fell into the three deep pits that had been dug all across the frontline. They screamed as they were impaled on the sharpened sticks that jutted out of the ground on the bottom and were crushed beneath the weight of their comrades. Several more fell into the pits before the enemy realised what was happening and stopped their charge. And then the arrows fell upon them, cutting down at least two dozen more.

Rial grinned. The plan had worked. Ard had heated up the ground with his magic, allowing the soldiers to quickly dig the pits and sharpen the sticks. They had then covered up the pits with tree branches and tarpaulins, after which snow had been gathered from the other side of the camp and spread on top to hide the fact that funny business had taken place.

It had been a hack job at best, given the time constraints and lack of proper planning, but the pits had done their job and temporarily thinned out the number of soldiers Agon could field. And that was all it was about, really.

"Sound the charge!" he told the trumpeter, who did so.

And so the only loyal army left in Lumina charged at their enemies, meeting them just as they hurried around the pits, barely able to reform their lines before they clashed.

* * *

It was fierce. Despite having been caught by surprise by the traps, Agon's men were professionals and took it as a minor setback, quickly establishing a foothold and easily going toe-to-toe with Riveth's.

Link had quickly been separated from Kafei and Elenwe during the charge, and he found himself far too busy with trying to stay alive to look for them. He had never participated in a battle like this before. When the Hyrulian Remnant had launched their final assault on Castle Town, he and Zelda had been busy sneaking into Ganondorf's fortress. He was used to taking on opponents one by one. It was easy that way—orderly. But here, it was all chaos. There were enemies everywhere in front of him, and they didn't single him out as an opponent. No, they struck out at everything they saw, snarling and growling, desperately trying to hurt the people in front of them before they hurt them just as badly back.

A sword hit his shield, and the Hero pushed it away and stabbed in the direction it had come from, the blade never even coming into contact with anything before he was suddenly shoved backwards. The allied soldiers behind him only pushed him forwards again, so eager to get to the enemy. He nearly tripped and fell forwards, but then a shield bearing Agon's mark appeared in front of him and smashed into his face.

Vision blurring from tears of pain, Link went down, blood pouring from his bruised face. The nose hadn't been broken, but it was damn close. He got back on his feet, realising he had lost his shield at some point, but barely had time to wonder where it had gone before a vicious-looking axe was swung at him. He ducked and struck out with his sword, scoring the axe owner across the stomach, easily slicing through the thin leather armour he was wearing. He howled in pain and fell, clutching his gut as blood began to pour out. Link ended his suffering quickly with another slash to his throat.

Chaos, nothing but chaos. The lines had dissolved into groups that fought fiercely, all of them desperate to win the battle. Link parried a heavy blow from a sword and cut the owner's hand off and kicked him away.

He quickly realised that he was utterly alone—and so was everyone else. All unit cohesion was gone, and it was every man for himself.

He ran through the fighting, trying to find Kafei and Elenwe, dodging, slicing and punching everything that got in his way. At one point he nearly fell into one of the pits. People were still alive in them, unable to climb out. He barely had time to feel a modicum of pity for them before he was drawn into battle again, this time by two soldiers who clearly thought that he looked like an easy target. The Hero proved them wrong by moving to close range kicking one of them in the bollocks while sinking his sword into the other's guts. A kick to the first man's chin sent him packing to dream land.

Panting from the exertion, Link looked around, hoping to spot someone, anyone he knew. He spotted something fiercely red and found Elenwe surrounded by five enemy soldiers. She hardly seemed to break a sweat as she fought her way through them. It didn't even seem like fighting—it was more of a deadly dance as she moved fluidly, whirling out of their weapons' reach, striking wherever there was an opening and retreating just as quickly. She fought very much like Ayla did, only with a sword and a dagger rather than a pair of scimitars.

It was only a matter of a minute or so before all five soldiers were dead and she remained standing between them, nodding at Link.

"You're still alive, I see!" She noted.

"So are you! Where's Kafei?"

"Somewhere! Fighting in the open like this isn't his style!"

And that was it for the conversation before they resumed the battle.

* * *

_Where are you? Where are you, you son of a bitch?_

Rial cleaved a young man's skull before sinking his sword to the hilt in a female soldier's stomach as he continually scanned his field of view for signs of the general himself. He had lost Riveth and the command unit soon after the lines had collided and was no more or less by himself in a large throng close to the pits.

 _This isn't a battle,_ he thought as he looked around. _This is a brawl._

There were no more arrows. Even the archers had joined the fray, the risk of hitting their own too great for them to bother with ranged combat anymore.

 _A brawl we're quickly losing_.

It was not hard to see. Everywhere he looked, Rial saw more green uniforms being cut down than blue ones. Riveth's men had more to lose than Agon's, but possessing the strength of will was nothing if their bodies couldn't cope with the stress.

_Damn it, not even the pits were enough to even the odds!_

He didn't notice the spearman creeping up behind him and preparing to turn him into a shish kebab before a blur of dark purple suddenly flew past him and took the man's head clean off. The Sheikah—Kafei, was it?—nodded curtly to Rial.

"Captain," he said. And then he was gone, leaving Rial slightly befuddled, but nevertheless grateful.

And then Rial spotted him. Agon had not hesitated to throw in with his men and fight beside them. He was a ferocious warrior, wielding his two-hander with skill and speed that hardly seemed possible for a man of his size. He cut down every foolish man or woman who faced him, closely flanked by two of his personal guards. The sergeant who'd agreed to Rial's plan first in the tent had his head taken off mere seconds after engaging the general.

 _Age has done nothing to slow him down, it seems,_ Rial thought as he took two deep breaths and began to sprint. The first personal guard went down without a sound, having not even seen the captain's blade before it sank into his back. The other barely had time to acknowledge his comrade's death before joining him by way of a severed jugular.

"Ah, captain!"

He only heard Agon's voice before he felt the broadside of the general's blade slam into his back, sending Rial sprawling into the bloody snow. Agon grinned down at him, casually hefting his sword onto his shoulder. "I was wondering if I'd ever see you again. Very good trap, those pits. Didn't even see 'em coming. Well done."

"Grah!" Rial exclaimed and hurled himself at the general, striking hard and fast, again and again, desperately trying to force Agon on the defensive. But the older man held his own, parrying and striking during the minimal pauses between Rial's attacks. A fist appeared out of nowhere, forcing Rial to duck down, only to receive a steel-plated knee in his face. The world spun as he landed on his back, staring up at the sky in bewilderment.

_How can he be so fast?_

Agon's boot came down hard on Rial's chest, definitely cracking a rib or two as the general forced him back down on the ground. The weight was so great that it made it impossible to breathe.

"Well, that was pitiful, captain," Agon said, grinning at him. "Your skill with a blade doesn't match up to your mouth or strategy, it seems. Very pitiful." He noticed Rial's hand going for his sword and quickly smacked it away with his own, laughing. "So this is where your rebellion ends...on a snowy field in the middle of god-forsaken Freyborough, eh? Don't worry; I won't mention your humiliating defeat when I recount the tale of how I saved Lumina from both you _and_ Rehm." He grasped his sword with both hands, preparing to plunge it into Rial, who closed his eyes and prepared himself for the pain.

But then he suddenly felt like his entire body was itching, and a low-pitched hum filled his ears. He opened his eyes just time to see Agon flying several feet backwards as... _something_ slammed into his plated torso. The sudden lack of weight allowed him to fill his lungs with sweet oxygen, which only made the pain in chest worse as the cracked ribs protested against this woeful treatment. He coughed.

"Captain! Are you all right?" Erd's concerned face appeared in his field of vision. Or was it Ard's? He could never remember which was which. He looked exhausted.

"What...?"

"Get up!" Erd or Ard screamed as he tried to help him up.

"Where did you come from?" Rial asked.

"Battle is going badly! You needed help!"

"Which one are you, again?"

"Erd, captain!"

"Right...thanks!"

"No prob—ah!"

The boy was suddenly thrown away as the general's boot hit him in the side. Rial growled, but Agon's mailed fist quickly had him on his back again. He rolled over to his side, just in time to see the general stalk over Erd, who was feebly trying to crawl away, breath wheezing.

"What is this? A warlock?" Agon asked. "Where did you find this runt, captain?"

"Leave him alone," Rial whispered. It was intended as a shout, but it hurt too much to breathe for it to work.

"I wonder, does it do tricks?" Agon reached down to grab Erd, but the boy suddenly rolled over, revealing a glowing orb of blinding light in his hands. It flew into Agon's face, causing the man to shriek with pain as Rial saw the skin there burning to cinders. He shrieked and flailed around, scratching at his face. It lasted only a few seconds, after which Erd was left too exhausted to even move. "Little bastard!" Agon screamed and grabbed the boy by his throat and lifted him up, choking him. "This is what I do to warlocks!" he roared and ran Erd through with his sword. The boy barely made a sound, his eyes wide and unblinking, mouth moving silently. And then Agon twisted the sword, eliciting a pained scream from Erd that would haunt Rial forever.

He didn't know how he got to his feet, where he had gotten the axe he was holding or what he was doing, but what he did know was that Agon had to die, and he had to die _now_! He roared as he slammed into the general from the side just after he had withdrawn his sword from Erd's unmoving body, knocking them both to the ground. He straddled Agon and wailed on him again and again with the axe, screaming bloody murder as his enemy's grasp on his weapon grew weaker and weaker. For the first time he could remember, he saw fear in Agon's eyes as he tried to defend himself from the rabid Rial.

And then his grip slipped. The sword went flying from the general's hand, and Rial's axe found flesh. He cut Agon's right hand off at the wrist, then his lower arm at the elbow and finally his upper arm at the shoulder. He ignored the man's screams as he did the same with the other arm before finally chopping at his neck. Blood spewed out from Agon's wounds and mouth, colouring the snow beneath him red. Rial gave a roar and swung the axe one last time. He heard the sound of bone crunching, and then Agon's head rolled away from the neck it had once been attached too. The face was frozen in an expression of agony and surprise.

It was as if the battle was over the second Agon died. His men saw the once-mighty general lying dead and disfigured on the ground, and an insane-looking officer covered in blood standing over the body with an axe in his hand. And then the insane officer levelled his manic gaze on _them_. Those who didn't throw down their weapons immediately were either cut down during the lull in activity or took to their feet, running away from the battlefield as fast they could, leaving behind well over two hundred dead comrades and the cheering remnants of Riveth's army.

And that was it. The battle was won. But, as Rial learned at that very moment, it had come at a high price...

* * *

**Soul Remnants  
Chapter 36**

* * *

It seemed that not even having the enemy on the run was enough for the winning side. Those of Agon's men who didn't throw down their weapons and beg for mercy immediately were killed without a second thought, even those who tried to run away. Riveth's men were angry and vengeful, and not even the angry barking from their commander could halt their actions.

Panting and gripping the axe tightly, as if he was afraid the world would turn upside down should he let go, Rial slowly let his gaze glide off the headless corpse of General Agon and roam the battlefield. Bodies everywhere, twisted and broken, empty and glassy eyes staring into the great nothing of death, blood seeping into the snow, staining it a vicious red that was quickly turning black.

Was this all that awaited him from now on? More death, blood and accusing eyes? He slowly let his fingers relax, and the axe fell from his grip, clattering noisily as it hit the dead general's plate armour.

A nearby whimper snapped Rial out of his thoughts and made him look to his right. Erd was lying in a foetal position, clutching his middle as his breath came out in ragged gasps and moans. Rial crawled over to him, all too aware of his own injuries. Breathing was a massive pain, and his head felt like it was two sizes too big. When he reached the silver-haired boy, he reached out and touched his shoulder, which only made Erd flinch and withdraw further in on himself.

"Erd...it's me..." Rial managed to say before coughing up a fair amount of blood, revealing that he must have had some sort of internal bleeding as well. He tried touching the silver-haired boy again, and was relieved to see the lack of fear this time. Erd slowly raised his head, tears of pain rolling down his cheeks and blood leaking from his mouth.

"C-captain..." he choked.

"Shh, it's okay," Rial said, trying to sound comforting but failing miserably. "I'm here...you're going to be okay..." He paused as he saw the burst blood vessels around the boy's neck and throat. They were roughly shaped like a hand, a testament to Agon's cruelty. It filled Rial with enough rage to wish he could kill the man again and again. Children were off-limits. Always.

"I'm n-not okay...ah..." Erd whimpered again.

"Yes, you are, you will be," Rial said quietly, his voice almost a whisper. "Move...move your hands, I need to see the wound...come on..."

The warlock whined in agony as Rial gently pried his hands away from the wound in his stomach. What he saw there left him wishing he hadn't insisted. No one could heal the damage that had been wrought on the young warlock. He was as good as dead, but it was a stomach wound and would take time...and the pain would be great.

"W-well...?" Erd asked, already knowing the answer, a bitter chuckle coming from his mouth as Rial shook his head. "I kn-knew it...I'm dead..."

"Nonsense, we'll just fetch the surgeon," Rial protested, taking as deep a breath as he could without causing himself too much pain and shouting, "Medic! I need a medic over here, now!"

But they weren't the only ones in need of medical aid, and Rial's pleas were deafened by cacophony produced by all the wounded. Everyone were dying, everyone needed help the most. It didn't stop Rial from trying to be heard over the other voices, however, and he screamed his throat raw. He would have continued, but Erd's weak grip around his wrist stopped him.

"Please, captain...it's no use..." he said slowly.

Rial felt absolutely hopeless there he sat. In a vain attempt to comfort the boy, he lifted Erd's head and placed it in his lap, staring down at those impossibly green eyes. What had the boy even been doing out there, on the battlefield? He voiced this question.

"Looking for...you, of course..." Erd replied with a weak smile on his lips. "Had to...save you..."

"I was doing fine on my own," Rial said, knowing full well that this was not true, and so did Erd.

"Liar...you were getting the...hah...shit kicked out of you, captain..." Erd tried to grin, but a violent bout of coughing put an end to that. His hands clutched feebly around the wound, trying to stem the blood flow. "S-saw it from the t-tent...had to...help..."

"What about your brother? Didn't he need help?"

It was the wrong thing to say entirely. Tears welled up in Erd's eyes again, but this time it was from despair rather than pain.

"Ard...oh Ard...who's going to take care of him?" he wailed weakly. "He...he can barely walk out a-among people on some...days..."

Rial didn't know what to say, kicking himself over and over for mentioning that.

"My brother...I'm so sorry...I'm sorry, I'm..." The words turned into a garbled mess as Erd began to cry. It broke Rial's heart to see it. The boy was dying and all he could care about was the fact that he was leaving his brother behind all alone.

Rial lifted the boy gently again and placed him fully in his lap, embracing the boy carefully. It was almost time now—his breath was starting to become shallow.

"Easy, easy...shhhh..." Rial felt so pathetic at his own words. After a few minutes of quiet weeping, Erd suddenly pulled back and started fiercely into the captain's eyes.

"You will take care of him, won't you?" he asked. Begged. Pleaded. "Please...promise me you'll take care...of him..."

Rial nodded solemnly. "I promise. I will look after him."

Erd's entire body tensed up right then, and Rial knew what was happening. The warlock's body was taking one last, desperate stand against the damage that had been caused to it. It was a losing struggle, and nothing could turn the tide, so Rial only held Erd tighter, whispering words of comfort into his ear as he began to shake, breath coming out in ragged gasps.

It was over in a matter of minutes. When Erd finally stopped shaking and his breathing had ceased, Rial carefully laid him on the ground and closed his eyes. Ignoring the blood around his mouth and the streaks of tears down his cheeks, it almost looked like he was sleeping.

Then it was Rial's turn to weep. He didn't even try to hide it as he lifted the boy's body from the ground and began to stagger in the direction of the camp. People were milling about everywhere, all of them caught up in their own thoughts and ruminations about what had just happened, all swept up in the post-battle mind haze that settled around every soldier after a hard fight.

He was close to passing out, he realised when his legs suddenly stopped obeying his commands and collapsed under his weight. He ended up in a kneeling position, looking pleadingly around for anyone to help him, but everyone was too busy to notice...

...everyone except the red-eyed young man who was suddenly kneeling in front of Rial and liberating the weight of Erd's body from his arms. The scarred Sheikah had nothing but sadness in his eyes as he looked over the dead warlock before meeting Rial's gaze.

"His brother..." Rial choked out. Kafei nodded in understanding and stood up, carrying Erd away before returning to put the captain's arm around his neck, helping him to stand up.

"Where...?"

"Sick tent," Kafei explained. "Bodies are gathered there for identification before burial."

"How long...has the battle been over?"

"An hour or so...lot of men missing, many chasing them through the woods. This battle took a lot out of everyone."

Had it really been that long since it ended? Had he been sitting there for an hour?

"You...saved my life during the battle, didn't you?" Rial looked at the young man's face, wondering what had caused so much scarring to only one side of it.

"That I did," Kafei said, unashamed. "I had a feeling you wouldn't appreciate being turned into a grill spit." They stumbled along in silent for a little while before Kafei spoke again, "Agon killed the boy, didn't he?"

"Yeah..."

"I saw your handiwork with the body...he didn't suffer nearly enough."

"My thoughts exactly."

"May Din find his soul and burn it for all eternity," the Sheikah whispered under his breath.

Rial, who had never been a religious man, finding the notion of divine beings such as gods who, with but a simple thought, could take away all the world's problems and yet never chose to ridiculous, suddenly found himself wishing that this goddess of Kafei's, and her soul-burning ways, was real.

Even hell was too good for that child-murderer.

* * *

Rehm had had _The Chimera_ pick up Victor from the Denal estate and bring him back to the capital a week after the meeting with the nobles. The snowfall had been too heavy to take a horse and carriage back, the message had claimed. While Victor was used to having a sizeable escort wherever he went, he realised that the soldiers on the airship weren't guarding him from outsiders. They were guarding outsiders from _him_. They subtly prevented him from having contact with anyone but people he was sure had connections to Rehm. He wasn't even allowed to speak to the captain of the ship.

Ordering them about didn't help either as they simply returned blank stares. When they finally arrived in Lumina City late at night and docked at the castle, another heavy escort awaited him on the landing pad, and he was wordlessly steered towards the council chambers. Inside, Rehm waited. He was sitting in his usual seat, but all the others were empty. The only light in the room came from the solitary candle on the table in front of the old man.

"Councillor," Victor said curtly, knowing that his planning and organisation had not gone unnoticed after all.

"Your Highness," Rehm replied, nodding for the soldiers to go away. When they were finally alone in the room, a scowl fell over his face. "Been busy, have we?"

"I'd say so, yes," Victor answered. "Soirées are always such a bother, really. So many people to meet and greet, shaking hands and so forth. It takes a lot out of one."

"Hm, indeed," Rehm said, scowl still on his face. "Though from what my little birdies tell me, you have been up to a little bit more than the casual meet and greet, have you not? I realise that raising armies is a troublesome task, and that having so many nobles gathered in one place is the perfect opportunity for it, but surely you know more about subtlety than that?"

So, he knew, then. _Shit_ , Victor thought. He held his ground, however. "Raising armies? My dear councillor, I believe you have been indulging yourself with the royal wine for—"

"Your Highness, you are an exceptionally bad liar," Rehm said, a small smile suddenly appearing on his face. When Victor's face fell, the smile widened. "Thank you for confirming my suspicion."

That honestly shocked the king, and he realised his stupidity. Of course it was all a game to Rehm. That's all everything was.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Victor said, looking away.

"Of course you don't," Rehm said amicably. "However, just to be safe, I will be forced to confine you to your chambers for the time being."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me, Your Majesty," Rehm said. "It is my duty and privilege as leader of the city council to make this decision in times when I consider the king's mental faculties to be...unstable. Normally, this is something that has to be decided by the council as a whole, but since most, if not all of the other members are still making their way back to the city after the celebration...well, it falls on me."

"You can't do this," Victor protested. "I am the king!"

"And you are going insane, I believe," Rehm said. "Just like your little friend on the airship, seeing conspiracies everywhere. However, you are too valuable to share his fate...for now. Guards!"

There were so many words that he wanted to say, scream at the old man, but his mind couldn't single out which ones were appropriate, and so the king was left gaping like a fish at the councillor as two of the royal guards came in.

"His Majesty is feeling unwell and needs a long period of solitude and privacy to recover," Rehm said with a sadistic gleam in his eyes. "Take him to his chambers and make sure he stays there."

When they made to grab his arms, Victor exploded into action. He pushed past the guards and ran into the hallway, making a beeline for the great hall. Why, he didn't know, but the farther away he got from Rehm, the better.

They were all in on it. Every guard he passed shouted for him to stop and attempted to chase him, but their armour weighed them down and allowed the king to slip by them easily. He jumped down the last few steps of the staircase into the great hall, paused for a few seconds before he made a decision and ran for the castle gate. If he could slip into the city, he'd be safe. There were enough people out there still loyal to him—unlike his own armies—that would shelter him.

It was a good plan, and would probably have worked had not Rehm foreseen it and made sure to triple the amount of guards at the entrance. They waited just outside the doors, forming a human barrier that stood between him and freedom.

"Your Majesty," said a sergeant. "Please, don't do anything stupid."

Despair welling up inside him, Victor could frown. "You all took oaths when you joined the army," he said quietly. "You all took oaths of loyalty to the royal family...and this is how you uphold them? By listening to that madman?" He screamed the last part, surprising a few of the guards, who had only seen the quiet, slightly meek side of the king. "As king and military commander of Lumina, I order you to stand aside!" he bellowed.

It did not have the effect Victor wanted. If anything, it only served to amuse the guards, who began closing in on him.

"The councillor is right, Your Majesty," the sergeant said. "You must be feeling quite unwell. There is no conspiracy here. We simply want to ensure that you get enough rest. Take him to his chambers. Don't hurt him!"

It was undignified and humiliating, being dragged through the halls of his own damn castle, in full view of servants and maids, and tossed into his bedchambers and then hear the door being locked. He hammered on it for a few minutes, screaming obscenities before finally giving up and sinking into the chair in front of the fireplace. At least the room was warm...

 _So...that's my part played out, is it?_ he wondered. _I can't do anything like this...am I to put all my hope in Rial, Riveth and the others now?_ Anger festered in his heart. Rehm had fooled him thrice now, and he was getting damn sick of it. _No,_ he thought. _I'm not giving up. Never! They will pay for this, all of them!_

* * *

"His Majesty the king is now under our control again, you will be happy to know," Rehm said as Marlotta stepped into the council chambers. She had never attended the soirée, but she knew plenty who did. And that's how they had come to suspect the king planning something.

"Excellent," she said. "He was rapidly becoming a nuisance. I believe he may have succeeded in raising his army."

"That does not matter," Rehm said. "It is too late for them to do anything now anyway. Besides, as long as we have the airship, we are unbeatable. As soon as Agon is finished mopping up Riveth's men in Freyborough, he can deal with these upstarts. How goes the rebellion in Urne?"

"Same as always," the countess said sourly. "Agon's soldiers are playing their part to the letter. Those mercenaries he hired aren't particularly inactive either. How long are we to keep up this charade?"

"For as long as we need to, when Agon—"

"Agon is an incompetent fool, Rehm," she interrupted him. "Why do you put so much trust in him when he can't even kill a middle-aged woman in a forest? Besides, he might be planning something against us."

"Excuse me?"

"I have a few spies in his camp, and they tell me that the good general is far from doing his utmost in hunting down the rebels. Also, he makes worrying speeches...about you."

"Is that so?" Rehm said, surprised. "That is...surprising. I did not believe Agon had it in him to perform a double crossing like this...so, he is allied with Riveth?"

"No, that rivalry runs too deep to produce any sort of arrangement between them," Marlotta said. "But I think that, as soon as he is done with her, he will do something...rash."

Rehm assumed a thoughtful expression on his face and pursed his lips. "The more loose threads I remove, the more untangled the web becomes," he said quietly. "We are losing control of the situation, and I fear we cannot wait any longer. It's time to start phase three."

Marlotta's eyes widened. "You mean...?"

Rehm nodded. "Yes. We have run out of time and cannot wait for His Majesty to come around to our way of thinking. I want you to take as many men as you need and march on Prison's Peak. You will reopen the mine and start working on the seals."

"What about the Silver Guard?" she asked.

"If they get in your way, remove them from the equation," he answered. "Show no mercy. If you fail me in this, our plans are all forfeit."

Marlotta looked hesitant, but then nodded. "Of course. I won't fail you. I will make preparations immediately."

Rehm grunted. "Good." After the countess had left the room, he leaned back in his chair and stared up into the dark ceiling. Things were starting to spiral far out of control. He didn't like it one bit. "We'll see who laughs last," he muttered.

* * *

The glow and joyous atmosphere that fell over the camp after the initial triumph was quickly extinguished when everyone realised how much of a pyrrhic victory it had been. Yes, not a single soldier on Agon's side had survived, but the remaining soldier's on Riveth's side barely numbered a hundred and ten now.

Many friends had been lost. Brothers, sisters... There wasn't enough room for all the dead, so those who had followed Agon were simply tossed into the pit traps, while the others were laid out in front of the sick tent. One by one, they were identified and covered up with their blankets. Everyone knew that there wasn't any time for a proper burial for any of them—for all they knew, the rest of Agon's army might have been on the way there at that very moment.

No one spoke as the survivors milled about, half-heartedly attending to their duties. The officers had withdrawn to the command tent and were discussing what to do next, but none of them seemed to have any good ideas. There was a lot of arguing, judging by the raised voices and angry curses that could be heard from the outside.

Link was sitting by a fire, a pair of wadded-up cotton balls stuck up both his nostrils. His nose had suffered a small fracture according to the surgeon, and the bastard would start bleeding again every single time Link did something to aggravate it. Elenwe was sitting next to him, a hand clutching her left shoulder. At some point during the battle, an enemy soldier armed with a war hammer had swung at her. She'd dodged it, but it had clipped her and dislocated her arm.

None of them spoke. There was no reason to. They had both survived a terrible battle and were just...winding down. They'd seen Kafei walking by, carrying the dead body of Erd. A minute later, Ard's agonised scream that could be heard everywhere when he saw his brother had made their chests tighten with sorrow.

"Poor kid," Elenwe had said simply.

Jeryd was still with Sheik in the tent. A soldier had tried to barge in, but the clerk had swiftly and efficiently dispatched the man by way of a crossbow bolt to the eye, courtesy of Elenwe loaning said crossbow to him. Link had thanked him and asked him to guard his lover for just a little while longer.

He needed some time think things over. The events of the day had dragged his spirits down as it was, he didn't need the crushing disappointment of Sheik not waking up on top of that. He poked mindlessly at the fire with a stick, shivering. Was it just his imagination, or was it getting even colder? It was midday and the sun was shining brightly, but not even that seemed to warm his clothes the slightest.

They barely looked up at Kafei as he came over to join them. He handed them a waterskin, but a cursory sip proved that there was definitely not water in it.

"Warms you up," the Sheikah explained upon seeing Link's grimace.

"Where have you been?" Elenwe asked quietly.

"Looking for the other warlock," he replied. "He disappeared after seeing his brother."

"Did you find him?" Link said.

"No," Kafei shook his head. "And I have a feeling that as long as he doesn't want to be found, no one will. And, frankly, I don't blame him."

"Losing your twin must put things into a strange perspective," Elenwe mused. "Can't imagine what it must be like..."

Just as awful as losing your lover, I imagine, Link thought. I remember how I felt after Sheik died the first time at the Forest Temple... He shook his head. No, Sheik isn't dead, stop thinking about it. He's just sleeping, yeah, just sleeping until someone manages to wake him up!

That hope had been flattened considerably by Erd's death, however. From what he had learned about the twins, Erd was the more technically gifted one while Ard was, to put it in layman's terms, the brute. Ard could probably figure out how to wake Sheik on his own, given time, but without Erd there to keep him focused or calm...

And now he felt guilty for thinking about making Ard do something like that in his time of grief...

"Hey, Hero," Kafei said, grabbing his attention. "Here, eat something." He tossed him a piece of meat that he had cooked on the fire. How long had he been thinking, stuck in his own head? "It'll do you a world of good."

"This isn't rabbit," Elenwe noted as she chewed.

"It's beef. Took it off a dead Agon man," Kafei said. "He wasn't going to need it."

Kafei hadn't been the only one to scavenge supplies from the dead enemies. Many of them had been stripped of their clothing, having worn thick furs and keep out the winter cold. Any and all food had been scrounged up along with usable weapons and armour. It hadn't felt honourable to anyone, but what else were they to do? Freeze and starve to death?

The Sheikah had been right. Eating something that wasn't the same gruel or stringy rabbit meat they'd had for the past few weeks did lift the Hero's spirits a bit. As he chewed, he looked at Kafei. "Where were you during the battle, anyway? I didn't see you anywhere."

"I was there," Kafei said, "but not in the middle of the crowd, as it were."

"Huh?"

"Fighting openly like that isn't Kafei's style," Elenwe explained. "He prefers to lurk on the outskirts of the battle, striking whenever and wherever he sees an opening. Most don't even realise what's happening before they find his blade in their backs."

"Not very honourable," Link muttered.

"I agree, but it has kept me alive for many years, not to mention that I haven't broken my nose a single time," Kafei said, adding the last part for Link's benefit, no doubt. "Something to consider."

"I'll stick to breaking my nose rather than stabbing someone in the back," Link replied sourly. He was fully aware of the fact that Sheik fought that way as well when he had a choice, but it was somehow easier to ignore it...

"Easy, boys," Elenwe said warningly. "We just had one brawl out here, we don't need another."

Neither of them said anything to that, but the conversation ended anyway.

After a few minutes of awkward silence, Link excused himself and headed for the twins' tent. Jeryd was sitting by Sheik's side, dagger in hand as if he was still prepared to cut down anyone who threatened the sleeping boy.

"Thanks for watching out for him," Link said as he sat down on the opposite side of his lover. "Kafei's got some real food out there. Why don't you have a break?"

"Thanks, I'll do that," the clerk replied, picking up on the Hero's tone. "Think I'll stay out there for a while, too."

"Thanks."

Three thanks in a row. Even their communication had become lethargic.

He took Sheik's hand and squeezed it gently. "Hey, I'm back," he said quietly. "You won't believe everything that's happened while you've been sleeping, lazy-bones..."

* * *

Sheik glared at the wall of black in front of him. That's what was, quite literally. He'd been walking along the sand, thinking, when he had suddenly spotted what he assumed was the border of Speil's imagined beach. It was completely black and stretched off to the sides and upwards as far as he could see through the fog. He'd tried following it in either direction, but there was just more blackness wherever he went.

He retracted his description. It wasn't a wall per se. It was simply...an absence of anything that wasn't emptiness. He'd tried throwing fistful of sands into it. The grains had disappeared without a trace. Fog drifted into it and evaporated.

 _Is this my way out?_ he thought. _Or is it just a gateway into something even more horrible than this place?_

He was glad to be presented with this conundrum. Having his mind occupied with something other than thoughts of Link just being a child mentally, meaning that what they had been doing, at least on Sheik's part, was as wrong as it could possibly be, was draining physically, mentally _and_ emotionally.

He wasn't left alone with this mystery for long, though, and he sighed loudly when he heard footsteps in the sand behind him.

"I see you found the limit," Speil said, coming to stand next to him. Sheik took a step to the side, away from the shadow, just to be safe. "Well done."

"Are you here to bother me some more, or are you going to help?" Sheik asked.

"Neither," Speil said, grinning carelessly. "I'm just here to watch."

"Then shut up while I think."

He found this to be increasingly hard with the shadow's eyes boring into his neck. His skin began to feel tingly when he knew Speil was watching him, and he didn't like that feeling one bit. He tried to ignore it, but the more effort he put into it, the stronger it became. Finally, he couldn't take it anymore and glared at him.

"Either help me or piss of," he demanded.

"Oh, so forceful," Speil said, still grinning. "I thought you didn't need help."

"No, I need help, I just don't want it from _you_."

"That hurts, really."

"Speil..."

"All right, all right, let's bounce some ideas off each other to get the mental faculties rolling, shall we?"

The shadow was taking far too much pleasure in this. Sheik scowled, but nodded. "Very well. Everything that passes through this...wall here disappears. Is it a reasonable assumption that this could be a way out of the prison?"

Speil shrugged. "Wouldn't be able to say. As far as I know, this...darkness is just the way the prison would appear to be had I not imagined this place. They say the mind is infinite, so perhaps this is just an extension of yours..."

"So...technically, we could walk for hours, days, years, and never reach the edges of the seal?" Sheik asked, afraid of the answer.

"In theory, yes," Speil agreed. "But then again, this _could_ be some sort of barrier that is the only way out. Me, I can't pass through, look." He put his hand against the blackness. It was like he was touching a real wall, whereas Sheik could stick his entire arm into the space without any problem whatsoever. "So, whatever this is for you," Speil continued, "it won't let me come along."

"That seems to suggest that this is indeed some sort of gateway," Sheik mused.

"Or a passage into the great nothing that could easily annihilate your mind," Speil replied.

One second he wanted nothing more than to jump through, hoping to emerge back in the real world, but in the other he suddenly feared it more than anything else. If he jumped, and his mind was destroyed, what would happen to his body? Would it die? Or would it live on in a cruel effort to continue existing?

"Listen," Speil suddenly said. "Can you hear that?"

Sheik listened carefully. There was something there. "A voice?" he asked.

"Sounds like it, but really muffled," the shadow said. "Can't make out what it's saying..."

_...ey...ack...y...beli...-eeping..._

There was something familiar about the voice...

_Lazy-bones..._

"Hm," Sheik hummed, staring thoughtfully at the darkness.

* * *

Link was sitting among the trees just outside the camp, suddenly feeling a desire to be alone. He had sat by Sheik for a few hours before aimlessly wandering about camp. When the sun had set and darkness began to fall, he had retreated even farther and finally settled on the rock he was currently sitting on.

The momentary joy he had felt at having real food again had soon evaporated, and he was left feeling cold and miserable again. It was biting cold, but he made no attempt to build a fire. He was probably going to head back soon anyway. The stars above cast a pale light on the woods of Freyborough, quite a bit of it making it through the thick canopy of the trees.

Link felt so alone. He didn't know Kafei and Elenwe well enough to consider them friends, and Jeryd he didn't know _at all_. He just wanted Sheik to wake up...he just wanted to talk to him and receive an answer.

Sighing, he put his hands in his pockets, trying to warm them, but was surprised when his right hand came into contact with something hard and smooth. He fished out his ocarina and inspected it. Not a single scratch or sign of damage marred its texture. Then the idea struck him, and he knocked the mouthpiece painfully into his teeth in his excitement to play.

The familiar notes filled him with homesickness, but they cheered him up all the same, and knowing what would happen after finishing playing...

He waited for Saria's voice to fill his head, looking forward to conversing with his oldest friend...and was disappointed when it didn't come. He played the song again, frustration gnawing at him when it didn't work. Why wasn't she answering? _Why?_ Again and again he played, anger growing within him until he let out an angry bellow and hurled the instrument away. He watched it bounce along the snow before coming to a rest at...a pair of feet?

"Who's there?" Link demanded, drawing his sword, narrowing his eyes at the shape in the shadows. "Come out!"

A pair of trembling hands gently picked up the ocarina as the owner came into light. Ard stared blankly at him as he came forward, holding out the instrument.

"Play more...please..." the boy said, his voice hoarse.

Link, surprised by the warlock's sudden appearance, nodded dumbly and sheathed his sword before taking the delicate instrument from the boy's hands. He didn't even say anything, only put the now freezing mouthpiece against his lips and played again, though he avoided Saria's Song this time.

Instead, he played his way through the entire repertoire he had built up on his journey in Hyrule, from the very first song he had learned—Zelda's Lullaby, which was actually the royal melody—to the very last—the Requiem of Spirit. The music brought back memories of his quest, both good and bad. He remembered giggling as a child when he angered the owner of the mill in Kakariko after playing the Song of Storms and making it go too fast. He remembered being nearly knocked down by a very young and eager Epona after being taught her song by Malon. When he got to the temple songs, every memory that flashed before his mind's eye involved Sheik, usually holding his lyre. Link couldn't remember ever being more at ease during his quest than the times when he was being taught those melodies by the Sheikah. The memories filled him with warmth, and a small smile suddenly found its way to his lips.

Ard remained quiet while Link played, listening with rapt attention. His eyes were shiny with unshed tears, but he made no attempt to wipe them away. When Link finished the Requiem of Spirit, he smiled a little and nodded to Link. "Thank you," he said quietly.

"Don't thank me," Link said, nodding back. "It's just music."

"Beautiful music," the boy corrected. Ard hesitated, but then asked, "Will you...come with me?"

"Where?" Link asked.

"Just...come." With that, Ard disappeared among the trees, leaving Link to stare foolishly at him before kicking into gear and following.

They didn't go far, just a few hundred metres past the tree line. Among a sheltered group of large stones, they stopped. Here, Ard had gathered sticks and logs and shaped them into a crude pyre. Erd's body lay upon it. Link didn't question when or how Ard had done this, but simply watched as the boy made some final preparations.

"He would have wanted this," the warlock explained, voice breaking ever so slightly. "Wouldn't want to rot in the ground..."

Link nodded silently. The boy was exhausted and clearly close to collapse, but the Hero knew that to interrupt him now would be...unwise.

"Erd," Ard whispered, leaning down to caress his brother's cheek with the back of his hand. "I...I know you're l-lonely, but don't w-worry...I'll join you soon enough..."

No child should be forced to say something like that, Link thought.

"We're...both alone now," Ard continued. "But as long as I remember you...you won't disappear...right?" He let the tears flow freely now, not bothered by Link's presence in the slightest. "G-goodbye...I love you..." He stood up and took several steps back, pushing Link backwards as well. Without a second's hesitation, he grunted as a fireball appeared in his hand and hurled it into the pyre, which erupted into flames within seconds.

Link was ready to catch him before Ard toppled over and steadied him against his side. The young warlock began sobbing loudly, and Link held him tightly as they watched the fire consume Erd's earthly remains.

Link dropped Ard off at Riveth's tent after they returned to the camp. The ex-general said nothing, but gave the Hero a silent nod of appreciation before leading the boy inside. After that, Link went back to their own. Elenwe, Kafei and Jeryd had all fallen asleep in various places on the floor, the heaters burning brightly to combat the cold seeping in from the outside. Shedding his tunic, Link crawled up next to Sheik and wrapped himself around the sleeping boy, forming a cocoon around him.

"Sheik," Link whispered into his ear. "I know you can hear me in there...you have to come back. Please...I can't do this without you...I can't do _anything_ without you...please come back to me, please...wake up..."

* * *

Sheik opened his eyes. It wasn't his imagination. It _was_ Link's voice! He could hear it almost clearly now. The longing, pleading in his words made his heart ache.

_Please come back to me...please wake up..._

"Sounds like My Light, all right," Speil said, looking at him. "What are you going to do?"

Was that...a hopeful look on the shadow's face? Sheik dismissed the notion. Of course it wasn't. The shadow despised him these days.

"Those who dare win, right?" Sheik asked, looking at the blackness. "I have to try."

"I know," Speil said, nodding. "Just...don't forget about me, yeah?"

Sheik paused and turned to look at the shadow in confusion, but he was gone. It was like he had simply sunk into the sand and disappeared. Wondering what he'd done wrong _this_ time, Sheik turned his attention back to the border. This was it. It had to be the way out. It _had_ to!

_...wake up..._

Sheik took a few steps back, hesitated, and then hurled himself through the darkness and into the void...

* * *

**Soul Remnants  
Chapter 37**

* * *

The first thing he became aware of was the fact that he was hot. Almost suffocating, really. The second thing was the dull, throbbing pain at the base of his neck. The third thing—and the most unpleasant one by far—was the sensation of akin to someone having poured glue in his eyes and forced them shut afterwards.

It took Sheik a good five tries before he was finally able to force his eyelids to move, and even then the discomfort of it almost made him want to stop. They were in a tent, probably the twins'. That much he could tell, but little else was revealed by staring at the ceiling. His whole body ached, and the very idea of forcing himself to move was discouraging.

It wasn't until Link moved slightly in his sleep, nuzzling his face into the crook of Sheik's neck that he realised that the Hero of Time had, quite impressively, wrapped himself completely around his lover. Well, that explained the heat, he supposed. In darkness that would leave any person pretty much blind, Sheik could clearly see the features of the Hero's face...or at least the ones that weren't hidden against Sheik's neck.

It was an impossibly endearing sight, the slight smile on his lips, the completely relaxed brow... Contrary to what the Hero either liked or wanted to believe, Sheik wasn't the only one who felt haunted by the war. Link just hid it better, but Sheik could always see it on the slight tightness that manifested itself around his eyes when he was reliving it in his mind.

It was good to see Link again. The _real_ Link. The real Link also needed a shave, Sheik noted. The ghost of a beard and accompanying moustache was starting to show on his face.

The fifth thing Sheik noticed was that they weren't alone in the tent. He heard at least three separate breathing patterns that didn't match his or Link's. Turning his head, which wasn't easy because of Link's death-grip on him, Sheik noticed Jeryd sleeping a few feet away. He looked rather haggard, like he hadn't eaten or slept well in a while.

 _How long was I gone?_ Sheik wondered.

Close to Jeryd, curled closely around some sort of heater, a young Gerudo woman slept. Sheik had no idea who she was, but it felt surprisingly nice to see a member of the desert folk again. It reminded him of home. No matter how much he craned his neck, however, he couldn't spot the third person. It was definitely a male, though, based on the slight vocalisations he made with every exhale. Whoever he and the mystery Gerudo were, Link and Jeryd trusted them enough to sleep so close to them, and that was all Sheik needed to relax.

He yawned and was surprised by the fatigue he was feeling. Surely sleeping for...Goddesses knew how long would leave him a bit more rested than this? Then again, the time _had_ been spent with the shadow, whose very presence was draining, not to mention interacting with him, which was the biggest source of frustration and annoyance Sheik knew of. Frustration, annoyance...and fascination.

He groaned quietly. _Not this again_ , he thought. _No, he is nothing more than a distraction and annoyance, that's it!_

Link stirred in his sleep, and Sheik cursed himself inwardly. The Hero looked just as tired as Jeryd, and the last thing Sheik had wanted was to wake him up from his probably more than deserved slumber. When a sky-blue eye opened up and stared right into his, though, all annoyance and stress melted away, however, and when a huge smile broke out across Link's mouth, so did everything else.

Neither of them spoke or moved. They just looked at each other, silently declaring their feelings and thoughts. Finally, Link moved his head from Sheik's neck—revealing a large bruise around his right eye—and placed a chaste kiss on his lover's lips.

"I've missed you," he whispered, smiling.

"I missed you too," Sheik whispered back.

* * *

Sheik stared into one of the pit traps. The bodies in it were already frozen from the biting cold of the Luminan winter. It was an undignified way to be disposed of, but when the victors didn't have the time to dig proper, individual graves...well, what else could they do?

"I cannot believe I slept through a battle," Sheik muttered and turned away from the grisly sight, looking out over the camp. Link had spent the last hour or so regaling him with what had happened while he was out. Sheik felt awful when the Hero told him about Erd's death. Ard must have been devastated...

The snow covering the ground was full of red spots, the only reminder of what had happened here. Well, except for the big holes in ground behind him, of course.

"It wasn't one you wanted to see," Link said sadly as they walked away from the awful sight, getting close to the tree line. "It was just...a big mess."

"I could tell from you alone," Sheik replied, looking pointedly at his bruise. "Looks like you took a pretty bad hit."

"Nothing I couldn't handle," Link said, touching the tender skin around the bruise. "I'd rather have this than a broken nose, you know? Was _this_ close to getting one, too. Only stopped bleeding a few hours before I went to sleep."

"You're lucky, then," Sheik said, smiling a little. That was Link for you—shrugging off injuries like they were nothing. He looked around. "How many men did Riveth lose?"

"Haven't heard the final body count," Link said. "But last I heard was a hundred or so. They took all three hundred of Agon's with them, though."

"Including Agon himself, like you said."

"That was Rial. He went berserk after Agon killed Erd...there was almost nothing left of him...well, apart from the important bit, of course." He looked in the direction of the command tent, outside of which the dead general's head had been placed on a pike. "Kinda grisly if you ask me..."

"It's a good way to preserve morale, though," Sheik pointed out. "Just a gory way of saying 'Look what we did', really. And for an army of this size to beat a force of three-hundred well-rested enemy soldiers...it's impressive."

"That's the end of road, though. The officers have been arguing loudly all day about what they're going to do now. Most want to go back to Æsir and hide there while others want to surrender. Doesn't really matter what happens, this army is finished."

"I suppose that's true," Sheik agreed. He had a feeling of being watched, for some reason. He brushed it off, however. They were in a friendly camp, the enemy had been vanquished and he had no enemies here...as far as he knew, anyway.

Neither spoke for a while; enjoying each other's presence, both awake for bloody once. Then Sheik spoke, "Who are the people in the tent?"

Link hesitated. "Ah, you...saw them, did you?"

Noting the Hero's nervousness, Sheik nodded. "Heard them at first. Neither of them are quiet sleepers."

"They were both dead drunk when they passed out," Link said, shaking his head in disapproval.

"You didn't answer my question, Link," Sheik said slowly. He stared at the Hero until his face fell.

"The girl's name is Elenwe," Link explained. "She's a Gerudo from Termina."

The name Termina triggered something in Sheik's head, and he felt his insides clench as he waited for the next words out of Link's mouth. It fit together far too well to be a coincidence. "And...the other one?"

Link clearly didn't want to say, only shaking his head as he spoke. "He's been really helpful, Sheik, and it's not what you think it is—"

"Who _is_ it, Link?"

The Hero's mouth opened and closed several times, making an incredible impression of a fish. "I...I..."

"It's okay, Link, you can tell him," said a voice from behind Sheik, who whirled around and dropped into a fighting stance. Fatigue and slight dizziness be damned, he wasn't going to let that stop him from terminating the intruder with extreme prejudice.

"Who's there?" he demanded.

"Tch, you were always the smart one, Sheik," the newcomer said. He was standing under a large tree, a hood covering his face. "I'd be disappointed if you haven't figured out who I am, yet. Though, if you have and you intend to shout it out loud, I'd appreciate it if you didn't—I have one hell of a hangover at the moment."

"Why don't you show your face and we'll see if my suspicions are correct," Sheik growled. His insides were tying themselves into knots now.

"You haven't changed at all," the newcomer said and stepped into the moonlight, pulling back his hood at the same time. Sheik's breath hitched in his throat. He had been expecting this. All the signs were there, every clue and bit of information turned right back to this point, but it still didn't stop the shock, the surprise...and the anger. Kafei's grin only served to make it stronger. "Hello, cousin," he said.

Sheik was only able to stare at the other Sheikah for a few seconds. "Y...you..." he was able to force out.

"Like I said, you had to have figured this out by now," Kafei repeated. "Don't act so surprised."

"You!"

"Me."

"What the hell are you doing here?" Sheik all but screamed, making Kafei visibly wince.

"What did I say about my hangover?" he asked, rubbing his temples. "I say, your voice still carries that cherub-like tone...the one that can break glass." He shook his head. "As for what I'm doing here...well, that's a long story, but I suppose I can start with the night I framed you for poisoning the king of Lumin—"

Sheik crashed into him before he could finish, sending them both sprawling on the ground. Kafei's surprised cry was cut short as his cousin's fist slammed into his jaw several times.

He couldn't control himself, his body didn't obey any rational thought, only the red-hot rage that boiling within him. The bitterness and animosity that had built up over the years, ever since the _one_ person he had looked up to more than Impa had left him bleeding out on the castle floor all those years ago, had finally found a release: the endeavour to hurt the miserable bastard as much as he possibly could. Years of training and restraint went flying out the window, all the time spent learning proper manners for all situations, and every single lesson about finesse and fine manoeuvres in combat...all of it went missing. All he could think about was the scarred face below him and the resigned expression on it.

Then the face disappeared and all he saw was the moon. Link's arms were around his waist, pulling him away from the prone Kafei, who groaned loudly.

"Sheik, stop it!" Link yelled.

"Let me go!" Sheik screamed back. "Let me go! I have to...I have to!"

"Have to what? Kill him?" Link twisted away from Kafei and shoved Sheik forwards, placing himself between the two Sheikah, holding his arms out wide. "I know you're angry, Sheik, but this is not the way!"

"It's the _only_ way!" Sheik growled. "He's a traitor, and traitors must die!" He made to lunge past Link, but the Hero was faster and tried to grab him in an arm-lock, but it was Sheik who had taught him that particular trick and he knew exactly how to get out of it. He slid out of the Hero's grip and slipped past him, heading right for Kafei, who was sitting up, staring sadly at Sheik as he approached.

He was just about to reach him when a crossbow bolt thudded into the ground right in front of him, causing him to come to a dead stop. The Gerudo girl stepped out from the shadows, an oddly shaped crossbow in her hands, aiming straight at him. How she had reloaded it so quickly was beyond anyone's guess.

"Easy there, blondie," Elenwe said, her voice steady. "Can't let you hurt him, even though he clearly deserves it."

Sheik glared at her, panting heavily. The anger was fuelling him right now, but he knew that fatigue was going to catch up to him very quickly. "Get out of my way," he said, trying to stop his voice from shaking.

Elenwe shook her head. The action clearly caused her discomfort. "Sorry. Can't."

"This is none of your business!"

"I hardly think you wanting to hurt the man I love isn't any of my business," she growled, aiming the crossbow a little higher. "I've got nothing against you, Sheik, but I will shoot if you try to attack him again."

It was so frustrating. The person he hated most in the whole world, even more than he had hated Ganondorf, was lying _right there_ , in the snow, not fighting back. But this...this _thief_ was standing in his way. _It was so unfair!_ It made him want to howl with rage.

"Sheik..."

Link's voice snapped him out of it, and he looked at the Hero, who was slowly circling him, most likely intending to turn himself into a shield for Kafei again.

"Even you?" Sheik choked out.

"Sheik, I'm not taking anyone's side here," Link said carefully. "Please, just hear us out. There are things you don't know, things that happened—"

"The only thing that's happened here is that I finally have him within reach, and you're stopping me from performing my duty!" Sheik snapped, his whole body shaking. In the periphery of his vision, Jeryd was racing towards them, shouting something indistinct at them. "For the last time, get out of my way!"

He felt...betrayed...

"Sheik...you know I can't let you do it," Link said pleadingly. "Please, just hear his side of things. You'll see that it was all a misunderstanding—"

"You...you've turned him against me," Sheik said in disbelief, staring at Kafei, who stared sadly back without saying a single word.

"Hey, what the hell is going?" Jeryd finally reached them, looking between them. "You're awake? Since when?" he demanded from Sheik.

Sheik didn't even notice the human, for he was busy looking at Link, shaking his head in denial. "No...no..." _How could he? How_ could _he?_ He started to back away; it felt like his entire world was crumbling. "No!" He turned and fled, running into the forest, ignoring the yells and pleas for him to come back.

* * *

They stared after him, all of them shocked...perhaps with the exception of Kafei, who sighed dismally. "I knew this would happen," he muttered.

"Sheik!" Link called and went to run after his lover, but Elenwe's hand on his shoulder stopped him.

"Don't," she said, a frown on her mouth. "It's not going to help."

"But—"

"She's right," Kafei said, finally standing up and brushing snow from his clothes. He moved his lower jaw, groaning as it clicked loudly. "You heard him—he thinks I've turned you against him. Going after him now is only going to make things worse."

"You! Why didn't you say anything?" Link demanded. "You could have helped—"

"You saw him, Hero," Kafei interrupted him. "He was practically hysterical, he wouldn't have listened anyway."

"But..."

"Be that as it may, he can't be allowed to go out there on his own," Elenwe said. "He's in no condition to be alone right not."

"I'll go," Jeryd said, already jogging in the direction Sheik had gone. "I didn't have anything to do with this, so he'll listen to me!"

"Thanks, Jeryd!" Elenwe shouted after him. Then she walked over to Kafei, inspecting his face. "You all right?" she asked.

"Headache's about ten times worse, and my jaw feels like it's five times bigger," the Sheikah said humourlessly. "He always had a strong right hook. Even as a kid. Damn..."

"If you knew he was going to react like this, why the hell did you do it?" Link marched up to Kafei and stood inches away, glaring at him. "Why couldn't you let him have _one_ moment, huh?"

Kafei's eyes hardened ever so slightly. "Do you really think I could have picked a better time? Sheik was going to react like this no matter where or when I decided to reveal myself. Can you imagine what he'd do if he saw me when he woke up? He'd have slit my throat without a moment's hesitation. A bruised jaw is a hell of a lot better than an open neck, don't you agree?"

"But...why anger him on purpose?" Link backed away, covering his eyes with a hand. "This wasn't how I wanted him to wake up..."

"The sooner it's done and over with the better," Kafei said. "We're in a dire situation and we need to gather our wits about us as fast as we can to get out of it."

"But—"

"If you know him as well as I do, Link, you'll know that while Sheik can hold a grudge for a long time, he's also quick to anger and quick to cool down. His anger will run out of steam soon enough, and then we can have a civilised conversation about everything, and _then_ we can finally settle this matter." Kafei smiled slightly. "And if it doesn't work, you can distract him with a romp in the hay while I make my quick escape." When Link stared at him like he had just grown a second head, he laughed. "That was a joke, Hero."

Link groaned and turned towards the spot Sheik had disappeared. "Maybe I should—"

"No, you're not going after them. Jeryd will bring him back, don't worry. Just go back to the tent and wait there."

"What about you?"

"We'll be there in a second," Kafei said, fixing his stare on Elenwe. "My... _partner_ and I have something to discuss."

Elenwe visibly flinched at that, and Link gave her a supporting nod before heading back to their tent. Curious soldiers were peeking out from tents and tarpaulin shelters all the way back. Link didn't even look at them. They could find their gossip elsewhere.

Elenwe looked nervously at Kafei, swallowing. The Sheikah looked back at her for a long time before opening his mouth.

"The man you love, huh?"

* * *

 _That bastard! That son of a bitch! How could he_ do _that? How could he?_

Sheik had kept running for several minutes after storming away from the others before finally sitting down on a relatively snow-free log in a sheltered patch of woodland. He'd punched the ground several times, only stopping when he realised he had cut his knuckle on something. He breathed deeply, trying to regain control of himself, but every time he did, either Kafei or Link's face flashed before his mind's eye and set him off again.

_Stop it! You're a Sheikah and Earl of Hyrule! Control yourself!_

It didn't work. If anything, it only made things worse as he found tears of frustration and betrayal running down his cheeks. Link had turned against him! Kafei had fooled him into believing...what had he made him believe, anyway? The facts were right there! Kafei had almost stabbed Sheik to death! He remembered it clearly— _he was bloody there when it happened!_

He was torn away from his thoughts when he became aware of someone behind him. He didn't turn his head, however. If it were either Kafei or Link...he wouldn't know what to do.

"Hey," Jeryd said carefully, stepping in front of Sheik and looking at him. "Are...are you okay?" He sounded nervous.

"Go away, Jeryd," Sheik said quietly, trying not to explode at the human. He hadn't done anything to betray him...as far as he knew.

"Sorry, can't," Jeryd replied, crouching in front of him and inspecting his hands. "You're hurt," he said and pulled out a bandage from his pocket. Sheik didn't resist as the human carefully wrapped it around his bleeding knuckle, tying it off tightly.

"Do you always carry those things around?" Sheik asked, anger quickly dying as he watched Jeryd work.

"Not really, but I grabbed some from my bag when I heard the commotion," Jeryd explained. "By the way, it hurt when I realised that everyone was told that you had woken up...except me." He looked up at Sheik, frowning. "Not really sure what I did to deserve it..."

"It's not...we didn't tell anyone," Sheik said. "I woke up a few hours ago, Link noticed and we went outside to talk...that bastard and his friend must have heard us and planned an ambush..." The anger started boiling again. "I can't believe they fooled Link like this..."

"Fooled him?" Jeryd asked, ensuring that the bandage wouldn't fall off when he let go of it. "What do you mean?"

"You know the story," Sheik said, looking away and trying to reign in the fire within him. "You know what he did and what I have to do. Now he's fooled Link into stopping me..."

Jeryd stood up and silently motioned for Sheik to move aside so he could sit as well, which he did. "I know you won't like me saying this...but I don't think Kafei has fooled Link into anything."

"What?"

"Well, you know, he's been doing a lot to help...both Link _and_ you."

"Help? Me?" Sheik asked incredulously. "He had me framed for an assassination I didn't commit, he got me imprisoned...he's the reason I was _tortured_ , Jeryd!"

"From what I've heard, he meant to free you long before that happened, but...the guards got overzealous." Jeryd paused, looking thoughtful. "He did free you, though. Elenwe was the one who gave you clothes and the way to escape from the castle. She even killed the guards for you."

"Then I owe _Elenwe_ my thanks," Sheik spat. "So far, Kafei hasn't done anything!"

"That's where you're wrong," Jeryd said, putting a hand on Sheik's shoulder. It was warm. As he did so, the throbbing at his neck got worse, but the Sheikah ignored it. "He has done a lot to help...not to mention the fact that he got you and Link reunited. I mean, he has worked arse off to get Link from Urne to here."

Sheik paused. "What was Link doing in Urne?"

"He was a prisoner there, didn't he tell you?" Jeryd asked, surprised.

"No, we...we haven't talked about that, we...just talked about the battle..."

"Ah...well, the next time you see Link, ask him about the lengths to which Kafei went to bust him out of Marlotta's hands and into your sleeping but awaiting arms." He grinned. "It's quite a story."

"More lies, I bet," Sheik replied sourly.

Jeryd sighed. "Listen, it's been an...overwhelming night. And day, to be honest. None of us are in a proper mental state for making sense. For heaven's sake, Kafei and Elenwe got horribly drunk before going to bed, I can't imagine what they must feel like right now."

"I hope his head feels like it's exploding."

"There's the badly hidden antagonism I've been missing," the human said, patting Sheik's shoulder again. "Listen, Sheik, whatever happens, I'm on your side, all right? You can count on me."

"I know," Sheik replied. "And I appreciate it." And he honestly did. The human had a knack for calming him down with his innocuous comments and pleasant conversations. He was a good ally to have, too, if it came to blows. He had a pleasant smile, as well.

Sheik's neck continued to throb.

* * *

**Soul Remnants  
Chapter 38  
**

* * *

Link had fallen asleep by the time Sheik and Jeryd had returned to the tent. Instead of waking him, they decided that it was best to wait until morning with confrontations about this and that. It should have felt wonderful to snuggle down next to Link again—it should have made him feel safe, but instead all Sheik felt was a slight resentment towards the Hero for cooperating with Kafei.

 _He_ knew _that Kafei was a traitor, he_ knew _,_ he told himself as he moved slightly away from Link's warm body. Even with the heaters there, there was a slight chill in the tent. Jeryd had done as Elenwe did earlier and curled himself around one of the heaters, instantly falling asleep judging by his snores. _Except…I never told him about Kafei, did I?_ a traitorous voice—his own—suddenly said in his head. _All I ever told him was that he had abandoned the Sheikah ways long ago. I never told him about the things he did…_

He turned his head and looked at Link's face. The boyish grin that usually adorned his face was replaced with the calm expression of someone blissfully far away in their dreams. Sheik had missed that expression quite a bit. Guilt began to gnaw at him. How could he stay mad at Link for doing what he thought was best with the—admittedly—sparse information he had been provided? Oh, he was certain that Kafei had added his own little...inaccuracies when he told Link about their past, but while the Hero may have come off as naïve sometimes, Sheik knew that Link was more analytical than he seemed. And Sheik also knew that Link would have gone over the story again and again in his head, sifting through every little detail until he found things that did not make sense. Perhaps the Hero was simply playing along with Kafei, watching and waiting until the traitor decided to make a move, at which point he would be ready to intercept?

These thoughts soothed Sheik's mind, and he suddenly felt the same peace and comfort he always did when lying next to Link. Smiling slightly to himself, he snuggled closer to the Hero, letting his eyes close slowly, quickly falling asleep next to Link.

 _His_ Link.

* * *

Not far away, close to the edge of the woods, two extremely haggard-looking people with thundering headaches were staring at each other in silence, neither of them willing to break the other's gaze.

Elenwe's heart was thundering. She had said it. It was there, finally, out in the open. Part of her knew that she had made the biggest mistake she possibly could have, while another part, her more rebellious streak, was celebrating its triumph. How many months had she wanted to say it? How many months of agonising and heart-wrenching desire? It was like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders...although another one had replaced it soon after.

Kafei was angry. She could see it in his eyes, his face... Why was he so angry? Surely he must have known how she felt?

"So..." the Sheikah said, breaking the icy silence. "You love me, huh?" There was absolutely no emotion whatsoever in his voice, speaking in a monotone drawl. The drawl was most likely caused by two factors: the first being his hangover, the second being that his jaw had swollen a bit thanks to his cousin's sudden and vicious assault. Not that Elenwe blamed Sheik—Kafei had had it coming, after all, but still...

"Yes, I do," Elenwe replied, squaring herself. "I don't see why that's so surprising. You've known how I feel for a long time now."

Kafei nodded. "I knew that you liked me more than just as a friend—"

"No shit, genius," Elenwe interrupted him. "We've only been fucking for the past year or so!" She hadn't meant to say it so loudly, but the monotone voice had gotten to her. She wanted him to display _some_ emotion rather than just let the anger boil underneath the surface. "Takes a bit more than a friendship for that to happen, don't you think?"

That was how it worked with Kafei, however. He never showed anger, no matter how pissed he got. Sure, if he ever felt the need to express his dissatisfaction with something, he turned into a passive-aggressive prick, but he never got visibly angry. And then there was the sighing, the shaking of his head and the intense eating of sunflower seeds, but that last one rarely came up anymore. Mostly because they had run out of sunflower seeds.

He shook his head slightly at her outburst, undoubtedly thinking she was overreacting and being hysterical for no good reason. She disagreed. This was the _only_ appropriate reaction!

"What am I supposed to do with that information?"

Her heart skipped a beat at that. How could he possibly be so cruel? Her confession had been somewhat unorthodox (after all, how many women declare their love for someone while aiming a crossbow at their closest family member?), but surely he should have seen it coming at some point or another?

"W-what do you think?" she retorted.

"I've literally no idea," Kafei said, shrugging. "We've discussed it before—"

"No, _you've_ discussed it while I was forced to listen," Elenwe spat, surprising herself. "You've never ever given me serious thought, have you?"

"Don't be silly," Kafei said, shaking his head again. "Of course I have. You're my partner, my companion, my friend...but—"

"I'm not _her_ , right? That's what the problem is, isn't it?"

He paused and finally broke her gaze, staring at his feet. "She doesn't have anything to do with this," he muttered.

"Except she does," Elenwe said quietly, disappointment welling up within her. "You'll never be able to look at me in the same way because _I'll_ never be able to compete with her. She was everything you wanted in a woman, while I'm everything you _don't_ want."

He looked at her. "That's not true, I—"

"Did Anju ever kill anyone, Kafei? Did she ever rob anyone? Did she even know to how _use_ a weapon of any kind?" She turned away, letting out a shaky breath. This was it. It would never happen the way she wanted it. "In your eyes, she was a saint. Me, I'm just a murderer for hire."

"Anju was an innkeeper..." Kafei said weakly. Whatever argument he was going to use, it died halfway through conception.

"Yes, and you loved her. You still do." Elenwe looked at him, blinking away the tears that were starting to gather in her eyes. "She's dead, Kafei...she's never coming back. Why can't you let her go?"

Something flashed in the Sheikah's eyes, but his expression didn't change. "How can you ask me to do that? I was going to marry her—how can you just expect me to _forget_ her?"

That was the first time he had ever raised his voice at Elenwe in such a way. And it stung worse than she ever expected it to, so bad that it almost made her give up. But...they had never argued like this before, and that meant that they were making progress, right? So she pulled herself together immediately and looked at him sadly.

"I'm not asking you to forget her," she said. "I'm just saying that as long as you keep clinging to her like you are, you will never be able to love anyone else. You're closing yourself off. Is that what you want, Kafei?"

Kafei hesitated before speaking, "I couldn't save her, Elenwe. She died because I was too weak to search for her. I couldn't even find her body. I can't let her go, don't you see? Because if I do...there'll be nothing left..." He turned away from her, sighing heavily. "I'm sorry, E, but I can't...I can't love you the way you want me to. I'm sorry."

She said nothing as he trudged through the camp, soon disappearing behind the snowdrifts that were gathering everywhere. She had no idea where he was going, but he was definitely going to brood. That's what he did, usually. Brooding. She sighed and blinked, letting a single tear roll down her cheek before wiping the rest away. So that was how it was going to be, was it? She was fine with that. She was!

She slowly made her way back to their tent and, upon seeing that everyone else was asleep, decided to go to bed herself, drawing her cloak tightly around herself and a heater. Let the moron freeze to death, she thought before closing her eyes and drifting off into the light and, quite frankly, brutal sleep of the hung over.

* * *

Rial was surprised to find that the remaining soldiers and officers smiling and nodding to him in addition to the customary salutes that morning. He was even more surprised when a burly sergeant handed him a steaming cup of coffee when he walked past the breakfast station. What had caused the sudden change in attitude towards him, he wondered. Last time he'd checked, they all hated his guts for making their general step down (not that he was given much of a choice).

He gratefully sipped at the hot beverage. The wintry morning had put a chill in him that went right down to the bone, and no amount of clothing would help. The coffee, however, slowly warmed him up from the inside. His body ached from the battle, and his face felt like it was barely holding together. He was lucky to have escaped with so few and miniscule injuries, he thought. The sick tent was filled with soldiers who'd lost limbs or eyes or other things a human would be, to put it mildly, a little miffed to lose.

The command tent was silent today. Many officers had been killed in the brawl, and those who hadn't been were either tending to their men or still asleep. All except Riveth, of course. She was standing at the table and staring intensely at the map of Lumina on it. She was so focused on whatever she was doing that Rial had to clear his throat twice to get her attention.

"Ah, Rial," she said, smiling tiredly at him. She had obviously not gotten any sleep that night, he could tell. "How are you? Your face looks like a balloon that's about to explode."

"Certainly feels like one," Rial said, touching the tip of his nose. Even that tiny action made it flare up with pain. "What plans are we making now, aunt Drena? Taking over the world, are we?"

"No, just Lumina for now," she said, chuckling. She looked at him, or, more specifically, the steaming cup in his hand. "Give us a sip of that, eh?" He handed it wordlessly to her, and she downed well over half of it in a single gulp. "Ah, I can never get sick of this," she said, grinning. "The coffee smells and tastes like shit, but there's nothing else I'd rather drink after a couple of days like this."

Rial shook his head when she offered him the cup back. "Nah, you need it more than I do, it seems."

"So you noticed, huh?" Riveth asked and drank the rest of the coffee and carefully put it back on the table. "Couldn't get a wink of sleep all night. Kept thinking about Erd." She jerked her head towards the screened-off section of the command tent where her bed stood. "Ard's still asleep. Wouldn't blame him if he stayed that way for a few days."

"How is he...taking it?" Rial asked, feeling a pang of guilt. Erd had died to save _him_ after all. He felt like he wasn't worthy.

"Not very well," Riveth said. "And with good reason. Siblings have a special relationship...can't imagine what it's like to lose a twin, though. He told me that he burned Erd's body last night. Said he wouldn't have wanted to rot in the ground."

"Certainly understandable," Rial said and nodded. "Does...does he hate me for..."

"For the fact that his brother gave his life to save yours?" Riveth finished for him. At Rial's nod, she shook her head. "Not at all. He understood why Erd did as he did. Besides, if he were to blame anyone, it would be himself for not stopping Erd when he ran out of the tent."

Rial felt relieved at that, but the guilt was still there. He sat down in a chair that had been pulled up to the table. "So...what are our plans now?" he asked.

"I was about to ask you that," Riveth said, staring at him. "You're the leader of this army now, after all. Or what's left of it, anyway." She too sank into a chair, returning her gaze to the map. "You thought I was joking when I named you my successor? Well, I wasn't."

"But...but why?" Rial spluttered. "Surely there are more qualified men for the job, I—"

"I am not having this discussion with you again, nephew," Riveth said, holding a finger in front of her mouth to get him to quiet down. They didn't want to wake up Ard, after all. "I told you, there is no one more qualified than you at the moment. Every other officer here is mired in my kind of tactical thinking, the kind of thinking that got most of us wiped out in the first battle with Agon. We've stagnated, and that is lethal in our field. You've shown that you are capable of commanding men like this, and yesterday you proved that you are far better at adapting to the battlefield itself than I could ever be. So, yes, you are our leader, and that is not a point up for debate, understand?"

Rial nodded meekly, much to her delight. "All right," he said, "but the second we find someone more qualified, they get the job."

"Deal."

Shaking hands, they turned their attention back to the map.

"We won't be able to continue any further south," Riveth said right away, pointing at the position their camp occupied. "If we do, we will hit a sheer cliff face that only leads to a river far below. There are no known crossings anywhere near here."

"So we have to go back the way we came?" Rial asked.

"More or less," she replied. "Really, the point where we met Agon for the first time is practically a junction for the whole forest. To be able to go anywhere, that's a place we need to control."

"Which wouldn't be a problem if it wasn't for the fact that Agon's army is still there," Rial said, pointing at the battlefield. "Scouts reported that he only brought those three hundred men with him and no one else."

"Which leaves at least five hundred men guarding that point."

"But they don't know that Agon is dead yet, do they?"

"I suppose not. There were no other scouts with him when he arrived, and we hunted down the rest."

"So they wouldn't even _suspect_ us to come charging out of the woodwork if we so chose?"

Riveth paused and looked at him. "Are you thinking what I _think_ you're thinking?"

"We can't afford to stay still anymore," Rial said. "We have to keep moving, and we have to strike first. We'll seize the element of surprise and do as much damage as we can to the remains of Agon's army before they can organise and fight us off properly. With any luck, we'll cripple them completely before they're even able to pull their trousers up."

"And if they _do_ manage to organise themselves before we destroy them?" Riveth asked.

"We'll retreat back into the forest. We'll set up ambushes along the road and pick them off, one by one if need be." He looked towards the tent opening. The pole with Agon's head on it could barely be seen from here. "We won't be able to use the same trap as we did yesterday—it takes too long and I don't think Ard would be up for it anyway. But we can do it the traditional way with snares, men with spears and archers on the cliffs."

"Guerrilla tactics, eh? Fought quite a few rebels who used those during the uprising." Riveth asked. "I like it."

"Yeah," Rial said. "Never thought I'd say it, but _we_ are guerrillas now."

"I've always wanted to see it was like to fight on that side, heh. Looks like I'm going to get the chance after all. I suppose we should mention that at the meeting with the others."

"There's one more thing I think we should talk about," Rial said before she could reach for the whistle that she used to convene her officers. "Our visitors from Termina and Hyrule."

"What about them?" Riveth asked.

"You managed to convince the Sheikah and the clerk to stick around...somehow, but now that they have found the ones they were looking for..."

"I've never barred their way," Riveth said. "They are free to leave if they wish. Whatever debts they held with you have been repaid too since I heard the _other_ Sheikah saved your life yesterday as well."

"I wasn't implying that they owed me anything," Rial said. "I'm just...they could be valuable assets."

"I know what you're thinking, Rial, but I don't think they will go for it. In fact, I bet they're going to jump the border the first chance they get, and I don't blame them. This isn't their fight." She smiled at him. "But if you manage to convince them to stay, I'm sure the men wouldn't object to having them in their ranks at all. Plus, I'm rather intrigued by that Gerudo girl."

"For the right reasons I hope," Rial muttered.

Riveth winked at him, stood up, walked outside, blew her whistle and returned to her seat. "I actually prefer men, nephew, which, by the sound of you when you talk about the king, runs in the family." She chuckled to herself when she saw her nephew's eyes grow wide as saucers. "Hah, I'm not wrong, then? My, my..."

"H-how did—"

"How did I know?" she asked, practically shaking with mirth. "Nephew, you may have a face like stone most of the time, a trait you inherited from your father no doubt, but whenever you say or hear the king's name your expression goes quite serene. And the voice you use when speaking of him, why, it's like listening to a girl talking about her first crush." She shook her head, laughing. "I wonder what it is about our family and being attracted to royalty...are we getting ideas above our station, perhaps?"

Rial remained quiet, a blush staining his cheeks quite heavily, making his already red face even worse. Had he really been _that_ obvious about it? He had tried to make certain that no signs of him feeling anything but appropriate loyalty to Victor were apparent, but... He sighed.

"So, tell me about it," Riveth said, winking. "Did you ever have your way with him in his chambers? The throne room perhaps? Oh! The council chambers...right on the table at Rehm's seat?" A frighteningly lecherous expression had come over her face now. She leant forward, urging him to give out details. "Do you make him beg? Or maybe he makes you? Is there much polishing of the crown jewels?"

"We...haven't..." Rial wasn't even able to finish the sentence.

"Ah, not reached that stage just yet, eh? Well, I suppose a few stolen kisses here and there is good enou—"

"No, not...not that...either..."

Riveth sat back in her chair, scrutinising her nephew carefully. "Rial, you _have_ told him, right? Please, for the love of gods, tell me you've told him."

Rial scratched the back of his neck in embarrassment. "Not really..."

It was like time stood still for a few seconds, Riveth staring at him with bemusement on her face before she finally sighed heavily and hung her head low. "Kids these days..." she muttered.

Feeling quite alarmed about her sudden need to ask about his intimate life, Rial looked around nervously. "Never got a chance," he said quietly. "I was going to, I was planning to do it, but Agon attacked that night and...well..."

Her fist slammed down on the table, and she was suddenly staring at him intensely. "So...not only has Rehm screwed over our family twice and had us declared traitors, but he's _also_ ruining my favourite nephew's love life? This cannot stand! I shan't accept it!" She realised how loud her voice was and threw a worried glance at the screen behind which Ard was sleeping on a cot. He didn't make any sounds besides a slight snore. "I shan't accept it," she repeated quietly. "Rial, I swear to you that I will do my utmost to get you back into the king's presence, where you can declare your feelings and—"

"Let's not get too hasty," Rial interrupted her. "We still have a war to win, right?"

"Rial..."

"I can't give myself that kind of hope, Aunt Drena. Not yet." He patted her hand, which was still clenched on the table. "Thanks for the support, though." He hadn't expected anyone to be supportive of his secret, and it felt good to have finally shared it with someone.

"Families stick together," she replied, smiling. She was about to say something more, but several voices that were approaching the tent interrupted her, and she smiled apologetically. What remained of the staff of officers entered the tent, all of them sounding far more optimistic than they had the day before the battle.

"Gentlemen," Riveth said and rose from her chair. "So glad you could make it. It's time to draw up a strategy. We may be wounded, but we are not beaten just yet!"

Rial stood up as well, and found himself surprised when he noticed that the officers weren't looking to his aunt for answers. They were looking to _him_.

Riveth glanced at him. "The men are ready for orders. Command is yours, _general_."

* * *

"Well?" Zelda asked, letting her finger tap loudly and impatiently on the armrest of her throne. It was really just an armchair with extra padding and a Triforce symbol painted in gold on the back of it, but appearances had to be kept up until the opportunity for such luxuries appeared. She ignored the spring that was digging into her behind and stared at the kneeling man in front of her.

General Mirn looked up at her, his face full of confusion.

"I...do not understand, Your Majesty," he said apologetically. "This is the first I have heard of such things."

Zelda raised an eyebrow, trying to imitate the perfect way that Sheik did it. Oh, that boy could stare anyone into submission with those delicate arches of his. She'd never been quite able to copy it, but then again, she was the ruler of a kingdom—she didn't _need_ to be intimidating. She had army for that.

General Mirn was a slim man fast approaching the latter end of middle age, and had taken full advantage of that fact to grow a big, bushy beard and let the sparse down on his head tell everyone else how little he cared. He was a competent leader and seemed to have a keen eye for politics on a military level, though he seemed to wisely stay out of national and international affairs unless he was specifically called upon to voice his opinion. Zelda had consulted with him about some troubles in a neighbouring kingdom just a month ago, in fact, and his counsel had been of great help to her.

This was why she was so angry at him. Had he been playing along with her all this time while knowing full well what was happening in Lumina, that her two best friends had been accused of murder, arrested and drawn into a conflict which neither of them had anything to do with whatsoever? Was he part of the coup that was taking place there, or was he simply in Hyrule to prepare an invasion? Zelda's kingdom was still weak from the war with Ganondorf, and if an enemy nation decided to invade there would be no way for her to stop them.

"Is that so?" she asked. "Then please explain to me your presence here, because I find it difficult to believe that it is a mere coincidence a coup of Lumina is started just after your arrival here. The 'fact' that it was apparently set off by my little brother and my best friend is also, quite frankly, suspicious. And then there is this," she paused and held out a letter. "I received this from a Luminan courier who was intercepted at the border just last night. It is a ransom letter for the Earl of Hyrule. It is demanding an outrageous sum for his release due to his apparent murder of the king."

Mirn could do little but look shocked at this. "I don't understand..."

"Neither do I, general, which is why I called you here. I have a feeling that you are sitting on more information than you are sharing." She glared at him. "So I ask you again: why are you here? Why did you come to Hyrule?"

The general sighed. "Like I said, Your Majesty, I was dispatched here to help rebuild your, if I may say so, magnificent kingdom after the devastating war that raged for seven long years. King Robar is— _was_ a good friend of your father's, and he believed it to be his duty to help you. That is why I am here, Princess. This coup...I find it difficult to process the information. But it's my duty to act when my country is in danger, so I was in fact coming here to tell you that I am withdrawing my men and marching back to Lumina as soon as possible." He looked at her, his eyes pleading for her to believe him. "I will even tell my men to lay down their arms until we have crossed the border, if that makes you inclined to trust me."

Zelda stared at him for a long while, searching his eyes for any speck of dishonesty or lies...and found none. "Do you have any ideas who could be behind all this?" she asked.

"I have at least two names in my mind," Mirn replied. "I have never trusted those two as far as I could throw them, Your Majesty."

"Who are they?"

"The first man is Councillor Rehm, the king's oldest and most _trusted_ advisor. The other is a colleague of mine, General Agon, though he is driven more by greed than anything else."

"And if I were to tell you that those two names have indeed shown up in the reports I have received?"

His eyes flashed. "Then I would waste no more time here and go back home immediately, Your Majesty, and show those two what happens to traitors to the crown!"

Zelda nodded. "You have my permission, then, general. There will be no need to hand over your weapons, but a regiment of Hylian soldiers will accompany you to the border—just as a symbol. Is that agreeable?"

"It would be my pleasure, Your Majesty," Mirn said, rising to his feet. "Thank you, and I apologise for the trouble this has caused."

"It's quite all right, general. Now go, your king needs you."

He bowed and left the inn, already shouting orders to those of his men who were working in the city. Zelda remained seated for some time, just thinking. She needed to talk about this with someone, someone who knew exactly how she thought and felt... Of course, who else? She closed her eyes and concentrated...

The sound of running water filled her ears, and when she opened her eyes she was not sitting in a converted armchair in the dining room of an inn, but standing in the middle of the Chamber of Sages. The marble platform, adorned with a large Triforce symbol in gold, was located in the middle what appeared to be a large, floating fountain in the middle of nowhere. In the distance, she could see waterfalls. The water seemed to fall forever. Around her were six other platforms, each decorated with the temple symbols. Light, Forest, Fire, Water, Shadow, Spirit. The Sages were there as well, all of them looking at her in surprise.

"Princess?"  
"Zelda?"  
"Y-your highness!"

She looked around, smiling softly at each of them. She was the seventh Sage, but because of her obligations in the mortal realm, she rarely spoke to the others. She paused slightly when her gaze fell upon Impa, her former bodyguard and Sage of the Shadow Temple...and Sheik's aunt. Of them all, it was Impa she missed the most. The Sheikah woman smiled back, but a slight twitch in the corner of her mouth told Zelda that she was troubled.

"This is a most surprising and welcome visit," Rauru, the Sage of Light, said and smiled under the gigantic moustache that decorated a large, horizontal portion of his face. "We were just discussing an important matter, and were planning to call on you, Princess Zelda."

"I suspect this matter is the reason I came," Zelda replied, nodding to the man. No one knew how old Rauru was; only that he had been around to help construct the Temple of Time, and that was thousands of years ago. That, combined with his wisdom and knowledge, made him the de facto leader of the Sages, even though Zelda was the _official_ one. "The war in Lumina."

The Sages all nodded.

"That is what we were discussing," Nabooru said. "And have been for some time."

"And much of it worries us," Ruto, former princess of the Zora, added. "Greatly."

"Mostly because we are unable to actually see what is happening there," Darunia said, flexing his strong arms. "We're blind."

"What?" Zelda asked. "What are you saying?"

"Someone has put a magical veil over the region," Impa clarified. "Much like the one Ganondorf weaved over Hyrule during the war. We have no way of penetrating it."

"How long has the veil been there?" the princess asked, fearing the answer.

"Many months," Saria said, sounding worried. "It was put up just after...just after Link and Sheik crossed their border."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Zelda demanded.

"We did not want to cause undue alarm and distract you from your duties in Hyrule, Princess," Rauru said. "We realise how important they are to you, but rebuilding Hyrule's—and, by extension, the Sacred Realm's—defences are of utmost importance. We were going to handle the trouble by ourselves."

"But?" she asked, knowing there was one in there.

"Everything we have tried, every attempt at breaking or piercing the veil, has failed." The old man gazed at the marble beneath his feet. "It is impregnable for us."

"But a courier came to Hyrule bearing a ransom letter dated long after they had crossed into Lumina," Zelda said. "He must have come through—"

"Only denizens of the mortal realm seem to be able to cross it," Nabooru said. "It is as if the veil has been put in place specifically to keep us out. That is the conclusion we reached just before you arrived here, Princess, _and_ the reason we were going to call you here."

"Why?"

"Because we suspect that this runs much deeper than a simple coup d'état," Impa said. "Rauru believes he knows what it is."

Everyone looked at the old Sage with anticipation, and his expression turned to stone. "A great evil lies buried in Lumina," he said slowly. "A great enemy from long ago...one that nearly destroyed the world as we knew it."

"The Enlightened One?" Zelda said. "I have read about him in the history books, though much of it seemed rather fantastical. A powerful mage, wasn't he?"

"The most powerful who ever lived," Rauru confirmed. "His power rivalled that of the Goddesses, and he was the greatest threat our world has ever known...well, next to Ganondorf, that is."

"But he was defeated."

"Correct, but he did not die. He was so powerful that death itself would not touch him. He was too dangerous to be left free, so the Goddesses chose to imprison him instead. They buried him inside a mountain and sealed it shut. Guardians, the new royal family of Lumina, were appointed to ensure that the prison would never be disturbed. The royal family agreed, for their kingdom had almost been annihilated in the war, and knew that the Goddesses were angry. They have performed their duty admirably ever since." Rauru cleared his throat. "That was also the last time the Goddesses ever spoke to us, the Sages."

Zelda was surprised by that. "You...have not spoken to them in a thousand years?" she asked.

"I have not," he said and shook his head. "After the war, they sealed _themselves_ away as well, to recover. They had all been wounded and needed time to heal. Time moves differently for them, there was no telling how long it would take. They told me this and left me instructions on how to lead the Sages during times of need...and what to do when the Desert King rose up to claim the Triforce."

The princess was overwhelmed by all this. "I...I don't understand," she said. "Why haven't I been informed of this?"

"Because I was sworn not to tell," Rauru said. "For a thousand years I have kept these secrets, but now I find my hand forced by the events taking place in Lumina. Din, Nayru and Farore never told me what to do in case this happened, and since they have yet to wake up from their slumber I can only do what I feel is right. _If_ the Enlightened One has indeed been released, as we suspect, then immediate action must be taken to stop him."

"What can we do?" Zelda asked, full of determination.

"As things are now, we who are bound to this plane of existence are powerless. At best, we can survey the lands surrounding Lumina, but little else. You, however, are free of the restrictions placed on us. Princess, you must go to Lumina immediately and put a stop to it. Find the Hero of Time and his companion, and do what you all do best: destroy evil."

"Hyrule's defences can wait," Darunia said, answering Zelda's next question. "If this _Enlightened One_ is allowed to run rampant, it won't matter if someone's around to defend the Sacred Realm or not—it'll be destroyed along with everything else." The Goron flexed his arms again. "Would've liked to give 'im a wallop myself, but..."

"I doubt we need to tell you what is at stake here, Zelda," Ruto said, smiling sadly at her. "The world needs you."

Zelda nodded, knowing there was no point in arguing. This was her duty, as the seventh Sage. "I shall go there at once," she said. "I will put an end to it all."

"The Goddesses thank you, Princess," Rauru said, his form slowly fading away, as did the others...except two. Saria and Impa remained, looking at Zelda with worry written all over their faces.

"We...have something else to discuss," Impa said hesitantly.

"It's about Link and Sheik," Saria continued.

"Don't worry," Zelda said. "First thing I'm going to do when I get there is to search for them. I won't rest until I have them both with me again."

"Thank you, Princess," Saria said, beginning to fade away. "Thank you so much..."

When Impa did not join the Kokiri, Zelda knew something was wrong. Her Sheikah bodyguard (and closest friend after Sheik) was the most stoic person she knew. Nothing could ever crack the facade, but now she was practically shivering. "Impa, what's wrong?" she asked.

"The shadow..." she replied. "It's...it's not dead. We were unable to cleanse Sheik of its influence completely. I fear that it may still be tormenting him."

The shadow. The being that had instigated so much trouble during the war, the one that had killed Sheik in a fit of intense jealousy... Zelda felt anger at knowing it was still alive. Sheik had been lucky to have Vorpheus around to bring him back from the dead the first time, but now...if the shadow struck again, there'd be no coming back.

"Fear not, Impa," she said. "I'll make sure no harm comes to Sheik." Her feet splashed as she stepped into the water that flowed around the platforms and walked over to her former guardian, embracing her tightly. "I'll protect him...with my life if I have to." She smiled when she felt the older woman's arms hugging her back. Impa said nothing. She didn't have to.

As she pulled away, she was certain that she saw tears in Impa's eyes. She said nothing, knowing it would break the Sheikah's pride. "Now, I have a journey to prepare for," she said and let herself give in to the pull from the mortal realm. "I'll save him, Impa..."

"Thank you, Princess..."

Those were the last words she heard as the sound of running water faded away. When she opened her eyes again, she was back in the inn. Wasting no time, she rose to her feet and ran outside. Her guards fell into step behind her the second she left the building. She caught up to General Mirn as he was herding a group of his men through the streets, heading towards their camp. He paused when he noticed her. "Your Majesty?"

"You are going to Lumina, yes?" she asked.

"Yes, as I said. Is there something wrong?"

"No, nothing at all...though you might have to put up with a few more travelling companions."

"Who?"

"A battalion of my soldiers. And me."

* * *

**Soul Remnants  
Chapter 39**

* * *

"Here," Link said as he handed Sheik a steaming mug. "Someone found a stash of tea hidden in the food cart and they've been rationing it out all morning." Sheik took it wordlessly, sipping carefully. "It's army tea, so it's not great, but it'll get you warm soon enough," the Hero continued. "Riveth refused to have any, she's sticking to the army coffee, which is, if you can imagine it, even worse."

Sheik remained silent, hiding his grimace. For some reason, Link's inane small talk, which usually put him in a good mood in the morning, was grating on his nerves. Of all the things they could be talking about, he wanted to discuss the _tea_? Which, for the record, tasted like it had been wrung through a sweaty sock. After a few seconds of stony silence, he gave up on Link taking the hint and looked at him.

"Is this _really_ what you want to talk about right now?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "The tea?" He set the mug down in the snow beside him and tossed another log on the fire. It was still early morning, but the camp as already full of hustle and bustle. Rumours were that they were going to pack up and move on, and it didn't seem to sadden them one bit.

Link had the decency to look slightly embarrassed. "Not really, no," he muttered, scratching the back of his neck. "Just couldn't decide if you were in the mood to talk about anything else."

"Small talk is your strength, Link, not mine."

"Right, right..."

"So...any questions?" He gave Link a small smile. He wasn't sure why. Maybe to lighten the atmosphere, which was so thick that it could have been cut with a knife by now. Link looked uncomfortable for about half a second before putting his mask back on—the serious one, apparently.

"For how long has… _it_ …been bothering you?" the Hero asked, making no attempt to disguise the venom in his voice when mentioning the shadow. "And how long have you been lying to me about it?"

Now it was Sheik's turn to look away, feeling embarrassed. Link truly deserved an answer to this one, but how could he possibly reply and not end up angering him? He took another sip of the dreadful tea, suddenly finding the circle of melted snow it had created on the ground. Gritting his teeth at the awful taste, he looked back at Link, swallowed and spoke,

"A…a few months before we came to Lumina," he admitted. He interrupted Link just as the Hero opened his mouth, probably to voice his displeasure at this, and said, "But I didn't know he was back." That part was actually true. "I had nightmares about him and the war and…and I suppose I just dismissed them."

"When did you realise what it was, though?" the Hero persisted.

"Not until after we were separated," Sheik answered. "And even then it was a creeping realisation, and by the time I knew it to be true, he was already invading my thoughts."

"Huh," Link said, the noncommittal sound ringing with hollowness. Link was awful at faking disinterest.

"To my credit, I did try to get rid of him," Sheik said hurriedly, hoping he wasn't losing Link to his temper. "Except it...well, put me out of it for a few days..." A sudden throb in the back of his neck made him wince and give a small hiss of pain, which had Link immediately shuffling closer.

"What's wrong? Are you hurt? Is it _it_?" the Hero demanded, fussing about him like a den mother. Sheik pushed his hands away and rubbed at the throbbing spot.

"I'm fine, I must have pulled something last night—hey!"

Link had quickly moved behind Sheik and moved the younger boy's hands away before pushing the blonde hair aside. A sharp intake of breath and a whispered "Goddesses..." had the Sheikah briefly panicking before Link asked, "Sheik, since when did you have a tattoo back here? By Din, the skin is burning hot here!"

"Tattoo?" Sheik asked. "I don't have a tattoo. What are you babbling about?"

"I'm only saying what I'm seeing, and I'm seeing a symbol on your skin that's anything but a natural mark," Link insisted. "Looks like an upside-down triangle inside a circle, here—"

"Ah!" Sheik recoiled in pain, shocked at the sudden sting where Link had touched his skin. "Don't touch it!"

"Sorry."

Sheik carefully let his fingers brush over the area where the supposed tattoo was, but didn't find his skin hot, and the pain had disappeared as quickly as it had appeared. The throb was still there, however. "I don't understand..."

"Could it be the seal?" Link asked. "I mean, maybe that's the mark it leaves, if it does leave one..."

"I will have to ask Ard later, I think," Sheik said, settling back in his seat, though wary of letting Link touch it. He was quite alarmed by this sudden appearance of a mark (the Delta Force had been bad enough) and he didn't like it at all. "Er...any other questions?"

"Thousands, but the one I want an answer to the most is what we're going to do now." Link cocked his head to the side, staring at him with honest curiosity. "What do you want to do?" As he spoke he took Sheik's left hand and just held it, occasionally letting his thumb brush over the stumps where his little and ring fingers should have been. He'd taken to doing that in the few hours they'd both been awake, and he wasn't sure if he liked it.

"Why should what _I_ want to do matter more than what _you_ want to do?" Sheik asked. When Link's eye twitched ever so slightly, he bit his lip. _What_ do _I want to do?_ he asked himself.

"From what I've seen we've got three choices," Link said, sensing his lover's hesitation. "One: We can stay and fight. Two: We can leave Lumina behind and never come back. Three: We can turn ourselves in and hope for Rehm to treat us kindly...but I don't put a lot of trust in that last one, between you and me."

"So it's really just two, then," Sheik said. "Stay, fight and die, or leave, fight the border guard and probably die."

"Why do we have to fight the border guard?" Link asked.

"Because they probably have strict orders to apprehend and or kill us if they see us. If you wish, we can try crossing one of the unguarded peaks and probably die that way instead."

"Oh, how I've missed that legendary optimism of yours," Link said jokingly.

"A little bit of realism has never hurt anyone," Sheik said. "But I suppose I used hyperbole there. We _could_ try and cross one of the less guarded crossings, but it'll take lots of time and chances are we will freeze, starve or fall to our deaths in the attempt. But our chances for survival are even less if we stay with these, quite frankly, suicidal revolutionaries." He motioned around them. "I'm sure they wouldn't begrudge us leaving a fight that isn't our own, do you?"

"I guess not," Link said, his shoulders falling slightly. It was definitely not the answer the Hero of Time had desired, judging by the way his entire body was attempting to droop in a display of disappointment. It was so obvious that he wanted to stay. But why? To fight? Link hated fighting. He was certainly skilled at it, but unless it was sparring or play, the Hero had little taste for battling someone. No, he didn't want to stay for the fighting. He wanted to stay because he was a hero, the Chosen One. It was like he had a subconscious drive to help those who needed it, no matter the cost to himself.

"Link...if you want to stay—"

"No, I don't," Link interrupted him. "Not if you don't, I mean. You're right, we've nothing to do with all this, and it's already taken a toll—"he glanced at Sheik's mutilated hand"—and I don't really want to see you get hurt even more..."

 _Thanks for assuming_ I'd _be the one to get hurt,_ Sheik thought sourly. "So we leave, then?" he asked.

"I guess so."

They finished their tea and stayed by the fire for a while, keeping themselves warm.

"I wonder what happened to Maladict and Epona," Link muttered after a while. "I tried playing her song on my ocarina, but it didn't work. She didn't come. Neither of them did..."

"I...I fear we have to assume the worst, Link." Sheik didn't want to think about it. Anything could have happened to the horses after they had taken off into the woods. Shun had been injured by trolls and had been lucky to escape. Had her parents been less so, and ended up in the monsters' bellies? The very thought made him shiver with disgust. The noble animals deserved far better fates than that. "What about the other ocarina songs?" he asked, hoping to change the subject. "Do they work? Perhaps you can teleport to the Temple of Light and—"

"Tried, doesn't work," Link said sourly. "It's like the magic's been sapped out of the air."

"It most likely has," Sheik said. "Apparently, there are thousands of 'nodes' all over Lumina that are actively draining the ambient magical energy from the land and storing it within themselves. Something to do with this Enlightened One's grand plan, or some nonsense like that."

"Then how come Ard and Erd could do magic?" Link asked.

"Not sure, but they both apparently had a knack for making the most out of the smallest stores of energy you can imagine. Erd was supposedly better at it than his brother, but could only make use of a fraction of the energy his brother can." He shook his head. "It makes my head hurt just to think about it."

"So we have no other way of crossing the border but walking, then?" Link asked.

"Seems that way. All my Deku nuts were lost when we escaped the city, and I haven't found a single one growing in these lands. I could try playing some songs myself, but my lyre was...broken."

"I see..."

The desire to stay was still evident in the Hero's pose, but Sheik knew he couldn't relent on this. He honestly wanted to leave Lumina and its civil war behind. It had cost them too much already, and he very much doubted Riveth and Rial's ability to make any sort of headway with the dwindling resources at their disposal. It was just a matter of time before they were all captured or killed, and Sheik knew he _definitely_ didn't want to be here when that happened. He sympathised with them, of course, but he knew a hopeless fight when he saw one.

"I've been in contact with Zelda, though," he said, trying to cheer Link up a bit. It succeeded, judging by the big grin that grew on the Hero's face.

"Really? What did she say? What did _you_ say?"

"I've explained our situation and basically given her updates," he explained. "She's given me encouraging comments and more or less ordered us to get out here. So even she agrees with me."

"And she _is_ our princess," Link said, sounding less dejected now about the prospect of leaving. "She'll do something, won't she? She won't leave Lumina to its fate, right?"

"Knowing her, probably not," Sheik agreed. "She has most likely sent this General Mirn and his men back already and might be following with some regiments of her own as we speak. She just wants _us_ to be safe before she takes any other drastic actions." He knew it was a damn lie as the words left his mouth, but he didn't care. His first priority was to get them out of Lumina, and he was bloody well going to use any means at his disposal.

"I guess..."

"Mind if I join you?"

The sight of Jeryd standing there awkwardly with his breakfast in his hands, longingly staring at the roaring fire was impossible to resist, and they nodded. The human sank gratefully into a cross-legged position and began to devour the small meal.

"Thanks," he said. "I didn't want to intrude on you, but...I don't really feel comfortable around the soldiers, and my food was getting cold, and—"

"Just calm down and eat your food, Jeryd," Sheik said, unable to bear the hesitant explanation from the ex-clerk. There was just something adorably cute and awkward about Jeryd whenever he tried to be social without the cover of his fake identity or the assassin persona. It almost seemed like an act, but Sheik could see no disingenuousness about it.

"Right, right, thanks," the human said and wolfed down his meal.

The next person to sit by their fire never asked for permission, but Elenwe's stormy expression and the aggressive intake of her meal told them all that she was best left alone. It wasn't difficult to guess the reason for her anger that morning, but commenting on it was surely the equivalent of signing one's own death sentence.

Jeryd, of course, didn't pick up on this. "Where's Kafei?" he asked.

The Gerudo kept her cool, however, and replied with an icy voice, "Don't know, don't care. Probably brooding."

Sheik felt his jaw clench at the mention of his distant cousin's name, but managed to fight down the nasty comment he was going to make. No need to make things worse.

The idiot must have sensed how little his presence was wanted, for a few minutes later a dishevelled-looking Kafei plopped down by the fire, on the opposite side of Elenwe. That pretty much told the whole story about what had happened. The other Sheikah didn't say anything, nor did he look at any of the others. He merely stared at the fire, as if mesmerised. Sheik knew exactly how it felt, because he often did the same. There was something hypnotic about the shadows of figures that one could imagine dancing in the flames.

A very awkward hour was spent like this. Every now and then, Link and Jeryd exchanged glances, both wondering why they were the only sane people present.

It was like this Rial found them. He had changed into different armour, one bearing the colours and insignia of Riveth's army. The stripes on his chest plate revealed that he'd had a meteoric rise in rank, even if they were only painted on.

"General now, is it?" Sheik asked.

"Sure as hell don't feel like one," Rial said, clearing his throat. "Er, I'm not very good at small talk—"

"You're not alone in that," Link commented.

"—so, I'm just going to ask. What are your plans from here?"

"We're leaving," Sheik said without hesitation before anyone else could answer. "No offense, general, but I don't think much of our chances of survival if we stay here for much longer." Link only nodded silently in agreement, though Sheik doubted it was genuine. "I don't know what _they_ will do, but the Hero and I aim to cross the nearest border and return home." He felt guilty for lumping Jeryd in with his bastard cousin and his Gerudo accomplice, but he had no idea what the human was planning, only that it probably didn't involve going with them.

Rial nodded, looking disappointed. "Ah, well, I don't blame you. We're not in good shape, I'll be the first to admit that, but we can't just give up either. It'd be akin to treason. But you should of course not feel obligated to follow us to our doom, which, if my plans fail, will be quite close. We're marching on the remnants of Agon's army this afternoon. With any luck, we'll catch them off-guard and win. If not...well, we're all dead. Anyway, I suggest you keep close to the army until we reach the crossroads due east of the battlefield. It will lead you to a road that will take you over the mountains and out of Lumina. If the gods are on your side, you will find a way past the garrisons and out of the kingdom."

"Thank you, general."

"Don't thank me; I am merely trying to make up for the injustices you have suffered ever since you came here." He nodded. "I hope to see you all one last time before we part ways forever."

"Wow, he almost sounds as positive as you, Sheik," Link said as the newly promoted general walked away.

"I don't think anyone can make odds like these sound good," Kafei said, staring directly at Sheik. "But Sheik would make them sound downright abysmal."

"Is someone speaking? I could've sworn I heard something..." It felt childish to say it, but Sheik was fully committed to ignoring the other Sheikah, even if it meant resorting to such tactics.

"Mature, very," Kafei muttered. "Almost like the time you drew a knife on the little boy who—"

If looks could kill, Kafei would have been pulverised by the death glare Sheik sent him that moment. It was filled with such intense loathing that it made even Kafei choke slightly on his own breath. Sheik held the stare as he rose to his feet. "Excuse me," he said in an even, emotionless voice. "Nature calls." No one tried to stop him.

Or so he thought, until Kafei caught up to him by the improvised stables (really just a few big tents with horses inside of them), grabbed his shoulder and forced him to turn around.

"All right," the older Sheikah said, "we're putting an end to this right now!"

"Just let yourself fall on your sword and it will be. I can even help!" Sheik replied.

"You've always been a stubborn little boy, Sheik, but this is ridiculous! You hate me for something that happened years ago!"

"You almost killed me!"

"It was an accident, how many times do I have to tell you that!"

"Accident or not, you still came at me with a blade!"

"You drew yours first!"

"I only followed my duty!"

Kafei shook his head, chuckling humourlessly. "Duty... Duty to whom? The hundreds of other Sheikah currently alive—oh, wait, they're not. Duty to the royal family? They hardly knew who I was; they wouldn't have cared if I left. Duty to Impa? Hah, don't make me laugh..."

Sheik fought down the urge to rip Kafei's throat out and shook his head. "Doesn't surprise me you wouldn't understand...you've never understood the concept of it. If our ancestors saw you now—"

"I couldn't care less about what our ancestors think of me," Kafei spat. "They were just as bad as you—blind followers of a code and creed that lost all meaning when the war with the Gerudo ended. Tell me, Sheik, how can you keep the code when you know that the Sheikah die forever with you?"

"Shows how little you know, doesn't it?" Sheik said. "Zelda released me—us—from our oaths when the war with Ganondorf ended. We are no longer bound to protect her, we are free—"

"And yet you cling to her side like you still were, because you know no other way—"

"I still protect her because I love her!" Sheik shouted, stepping closer to Kafei while gripping the hilt of the dagger in his belt. "I continue to protect her because she is one of the two people I honestly care about!" He turned away, breathing deeply to calm himself down. "Impa would have done the same. You never cared about anyone but yourself—"

Kafei turned him around and slammed his back into the closest tree, growling. "How dare you?" he demanded. "How _dare_ you?"

"Prove me wrong," Sheik growled right back at him.

"I cared about you," Kafei whispered, paying no heed to the soldiers around them. "I cared about Impa. Goddesses, I even cared about the king and the princess." His face fell slightly, and he looked down at their feet. "You, I loved like a brother...which was why it hurt so much when we fought that night."

"If you cared about me that much, why didn't you offer to take me?" Sheik asked, his anger deflating. He had wondered about that.

"Because...because I knew you would say no, that you would hold true to your duty." He let go of Sheik and turned away, pulling down his hood to reveal his scarred face. "You confirmed that when you burned my face."

Sheik was surprised when he felt actual guilt at the sight. He remembered that, shoving the torch in Kafei's face. But he'd deserved it, hadn't he?

"You don't know the full story, Sheik," Kafei said, running a hand through his purple hair. The blonde roots had begun to show at his part. He hadn't dyed it in a while, it seemed. "You never gave me a chance to tell you, either."

"Then please, by all means, do tell me the full story," Sheik said and crossed his arms. "Make me understand why you have been such an unbelievable arse and why you betrayed us." He snorted. "This is going to be good..."

"Fine, but not here," Kafei said. "Come with me."

Sheik followed his cousin until they reached the outskirts of the camp. There was a large stone here, which gave them shelter from prying eyes and ears. Sheik leaned against it, waiting for what was surely going to be an epic tale of lies and deceit.

"My parents were killed before you were born," Kafei began, catching Sheik off-guard. He hadn't expected it to start that way. "You knew that, right?"

"Of course," Sheik replied.

"Well, then you also know how they died?"

"Killed in battle against the Gerudo."

"Exactly. Or that's what we were told, anyway." Kafei grimaced. "It wasn't true. My parents didn't die fighting the enemy. They were trying to leave, just like I did years later."

"What?" Sheik asked, honestly surprised. The tale of how Kafei's parents gave their lives while protecting the king from ambushing bandits had been told so many times during his childhood that he knew it by heart, and he had always felt that Kafei was spitting on their legacy by abandoning their ways. It had been a triple betrayal—of him, of Impa and of his parents.

"Oh yes," Kafei nodded. "They too knew that the Sheikah had no future, that we were dying out slowly but surely. My mother had given birth to me just a year before, and they did not want their son to grow up in a futile existence. They made a big mistake, though. Can you guess what it was?"

"I don't like guessing games," Sheik muttered.

"They told someone what they were planning," Kafei said. "They told someone they thought they could trust. They told Impa."

Sheik looked up. "You mean—"

"She killed them on the spot," Kafei spat bitterly. "Never even gave them a chance to explain or fight. She never tolerated traitors, Impa, so she didn't think twice about it. Had I been older than an infant, she would probably have killed me as well."

Sheik couldn't believe what he was hearing. Impa had certainly never been unclear on the subject of traitors and what had to be done about them, but she couldn't imagine her just killing Kafei's parents like that. And her own kin at that, for she too was related to them in a distant way.

"But she chose to lie to me instead, telling me that they died bravely in battle rather than suffering the traitors' fates they did. For years she kept the lie up, raising me to be another mindless drone to be sacrificed at the royal family's behest." Kafei looked at him. "It wasn't until I started having similar thoughts and voicing them to you that she knew she couldn't hide it from me any longer. She took me to her quarters one night, sat me down and told me the true story. I was so angry. I screamed, shouted, cursing her name...I even attacked her, but she disarmed me. She let me exhaust my anger until I could only lie on the floor and listen."

"W-what did she say?" Sheik asked. He found the story hard to believe. His aunt couldn't possibly have been so cruel, could she?

"Grief and regret must have been haunting her ever since she murdered them, for she told me that if I truly wanted to, I was free to leave the Sheikah and Hyrule behind forever. She would not attempt to stop me or alert anyone about it." He hesitated, looking Sheik up and down. "She...she even told me that I should take you along, for she did not wish her nephew to become the same as she, which she feared greatly after your parents were killed."

"That's a lie," Sheik said. "That's a damn lie. Impa would never willingly let us betray our people!"

"That's what I told her, but she shared my sentiment about our people's future: that there was none. She had already gone too far, and was glad to spend the rest of her life in servitude to the throne, but she did not want that for us."

"If this is true, why did you never approach me with this information?" He glared at Kafei.

"I tried. The same night I left, I was trying to find you, to ask if you wanted to join me, but you were nowhere to be found. Until you ambushed me, that is. By then I knew it was too late—you would never have joined me because you had the same mindset Impa had when she killed my parents. And then you attacked, and we fought until you twisted in the air—how many times had I told you never to do that at that point? It gives the enemy too large a window to hit you, accidentally or otherwise...which I did." He looked ashamed at that.

"I have never felt a greater shame than when you lay there, bleeding and whimpering from a possibly fatal wound. I panicked, thinking that Impa would have my head for it, and fled." He took a few steps forward, reaching hesitantly out for Sheik, but left his hand hovering over his cousin's shoulder for a few seconds before giving up. "I left you my lyre..."

"...it was broken by a Luminan soldier," Sheik said, looking away. "I never used it before the war ended. It was a good instrument..."

"Ah..." Kafei looked around, seemingly trying to find something more uplifting to say, but failed. "I will never be able to make up for the things I have done to you, Sheik, but know that I will regret them forever until the day I die. And I will never betray you again."

"I see...good to know," Sheik said and began to walk away from the other Sheikah. It was all too much. Over eight years of hate and utter loathing, and then Kafei just pulls the carpet from under his feet like this. If it was all true, of course. The only person who could confirm this was Impa, and she was impossible to get hold of since Link's ocarina magic did not work. He sighed, looking up at the tree tops.

 _Why must everything be so complicated?_ he thought.

* * *

**Soul Remnants  
Chapter 40**

* * *

"Hey, girl, how have you been?" Link smiled as he stroked Shun's mane, amazed as always by how soft it was. Just like Epona's. He sighed, wondering where she was. He'd tried playing her song on his ocarina several times that morning, but she had still not shown up, much to his disappointment. Maladict showed no sign of appearing either, but considering the fact that he was more or less glued to Epona's side...wherever they were, at least they were together. They couldn't be...no, they were both too tough for that.

The stables could hardly be called that. Just a big tent with logs to define the individual boxes. There weren't many left. So many cavalrymen had been killed along with their steeds in the first battle against Agon. Only a little over a dozen or so had survived, and while they were taken very good care of in the aftermath, one would have to be a fool not to realise that the unit was more or less finished. It was...sad. He refocused on Shun, smiling at her.

The filly snorted, her big, black eyes staring at him with intelligence that was far higher than those of other horses. It was like she knew what he was thinking and figured the same.

"Been looking after Sheik, right? He's such a trouble magnet, isn't he?"

She snorted, probably agreeing to the statement.

"And so are you, he tells me...the wounds have healed nicely." He stroked her muzzle, feeling the small indentations under the hair—scars from an apparent run-in with trolls, or so Sheik suspected. Was that what had happened to Epona and Maladict? Had they sacrificed themselves for Shun, perhaps? He shook his head, banishing such nasty thoughts from his head.

Link smiled. "I'm sure your mother and father are okay...probably just taking a little break, galloping all over the place, eh?"

The stable master came in through the tent flaps and looked at the sorry collection of horses and their masters. "Orders have arrived," he announced to the people gathered there. "We are moving out in one hour sharp. Pack it up and get ready."

Link quietly led Shun out of her box and outside, trying not to be affected by the glum looks he received from the surviving cavalrymen. They had been absolutely fascinated by the young filly and were sad to see her go, though they knew it was for the best. They were heading back to war, while their exotic guests were going home, out of harm's way. He gave them a wave, wished them luck and went outside.

Only Jeryd remained by the fire. Sheik and Kafei had gone to talk, with Elenwe following them out of sight to make sure that nothing "exciting" happened. The human looked up at them as they came closer and smiled.

"She good to go?" he asked, standing up and petting Shun. He was the only human Shun actually seemed to like getting petted by.

"As ready as she'll get, I guess," Link replied. "I'm worried about the border crossing, though. Steep and craggy cliffs and such...she could trip and fall."

"She seems more sure-footed than the toughest sailors," Jeryd said. "What's a few mountains to a horse that could probably stand on a vertical wall?" He grinned. "If anything, you should be more worried about yourselves." His face turned serious. "You do know that Sheik's ability to grip things with his left hand has been severely compromised by his injuries, right?"

Link, slightly nonplussed by the sudden shift in tone, nodded, "Yeah, I know."

"So if you're forced to climb, keep an eye out for him."

"You don't need to tell me that, Jeryd," the Hero said. "Don't worry about it."

Jeryd nodded, the severity disappearing just as fast as it appeared. "Good," he said, smiling.

"Sheik's gonna kill me if he catches me, though," Link added, only half-joking. Knowing him, Sheik would probably push Link off the nearest cliff if he found out.

"Worth the risk, though."

"Yeah..." There was an awkward silence, the two of them staring at anything but each other until Link broke it again: "What are you going to do? After we leave, I mean."

"Haven't really thought about it," Jeryd said, rubbing his hands together to keep the chill out. At least they had proper clothes now. "The captain—general now, I guess—took away my chance at taking my revenge on Agon, and you're leaving...which kind of leaves me without a purpose, doesn't it? I can't go back to the city—I'm a traitor, after all." He looked around. "I suppose I could stay with the army, but gods know how long I will last. I know how to fight, but not in a coordinated unit."

Link felt a pang of guilt right then. He and Sheik had really ruined Jeryd's life by dragging him along during their escape from the castle dungeons. Granted, Jeryd _had_ been the one to come up with the plan, but still...

"You...you could join us, you know," Link said slowly. "Leave Lumina behind."

Jeryd perked up slightly at that, but the smile disappeared soon after. "I...would have liked that, Link, thank you, but..."

"But...?" Link said.

"I don't really know anyone out there, do I? Where would I go?"

"To Hyrule, of course," Link said, rolling his eyes. "I'm sure Zelda could use a skilled clerk and everything!"

Another miniscule smile crossed the human's face. "That sounds like a nice prospect, I won't lie...but I don't think I could leave my country behind, not when it is facing such troubled times. Besides, I have some...unfinished business."

Link knew not to press him on these matters and did not enquire about said business, merely nodding, respecting Jeryd's decision. "All right," he said. "We're gonna miss you, though."

"I should hope so, I only saved Sheik's damn life," Jeryd said, snorting.

"Hah, his life is saved by someone three times a week on average, it's not a special thing to do."

They shared a laugh and began to pack together their things. Elenwe returned a few minutes later, only confirming that the meeting between the two Sheikah had gone relatively well before she began to pack herself. Both of them knew not to disturb her.

Link packed Sheik's things as well, propping it up against the tent pole. After that, there was nothing to do but wait and watch the army pack up their camp and prepare for what would probably be their last march, though none of them appeared to think so. They were laughing and joking with each other, proclaiming how they would free Lumina from the traitors and restore peace and prosperity once and for all. Knowing what they were heading into, Link couldn't help but admire their bravery. They were probably going to die, but it would be for a cause they believed in. It reminded him of the war with Ganondorf, and how many had died fighting in it. Had they done the same as Riveth's men in the years Link had slept? Heading to their doom with smiles on their faces and joking laughter echoing among them?

"Say what you will about them, but you have to admire a soldier's ability to find humour in any situation," Elenwe said as she plopped down in the snow next to Link. "My mother used to be like that. Not that she was a soldier, of course."

It caught both Link and Jeryd off-guard, but they took it in stride. Or so they had hoped. Jeryd obviously searched for something to say but came up empty, while Link could only utter a pathetic "Huh..."

The Gerudo didn't seem to care. "She was the happiest person I have ever known," she continued. "There could be draught, a famine, an unmitigated disaster and she would still find something to smile and laugh about, cheering people up instantly. It was like magic..." She frowned. "I miss her..."

"What happened?" Jeryd managed to ask, but not without throwing a quick glance at Link, as if to ask if it was all right to speak now.

"She died," she said simply. "She had bad lungs, and they eventually killed her. The clan broke apart completely after that. Turns out that the strongest pirate clan off the Termina coast had only been held together by its leader. At least four other girls laid claim to her seat in addition to my sisters and I, and we began to fight." She drew a breath, hesitating before continuing, her voice eerily devoid of emotion. "My family banded together, and we slew those who did not acknowledge us as the true heirs...and then we turned on each other. We gathered on the fleet's flagship to celebrate our victory over the traitors, as we called them...and then chaos struck."

Link paid rapt attention. He didn't know much about Elenwe, and this sudden revelation that she had been what was equal to royalty in the Gerudo society was fascinating and shocking at the same time.

"It turned out that another alliance had been formed—my two younger sisters banded together and tried to get rid of me. My guards and supporters were slaughtered, and I was forced to fight for my life. Eventually, I had to set fire to the powder storage—it was the only way I could get out. The ship exploded just as I hurled myself through a gun port, and I swam for shore."

"What happened then?" Link asked.

"The fleet was decimated from in-fighting," she replied. "I watched from a distance as ship after ship burned and sank into the ocean. I guess my dear sisters weren't able to live up to our mother's legacy. Or perhaps someone else killed them and failed at the same task, I don't know." She chuckled. "And to think that I loved those two..."

Jeryd and Link exchanged glances, neither of them knowing what to do. Link acted on a hunch and put an arm around her shoulders, an action she did not reject. On the contrary, she sighed appreciatively and leaned against him.

"The meteor struck Termina few days later. I arrived at the city the day after, which was quite lucky. I had a nasty cut in my arm from the ship battle and needed a doctor to sew it up before it got infected and finished the job my sisters had started. A temporary hospital had been set up, and I was told I was lucky the wound hadn't gone bad before I got there. As I waited for the doctor to get ready, I saw a young man in a bed opposite of where I was sitting, covered in bandages. The only thing I could see was the right side of his face and the reddest eyes I could imagine, staring at me. And that's how I met Kafei. We started to talk...or, _I_ started to talk while he listened. I visited him every day until he was allowed to leave the bed and then...I guess we just figured it was a good idea to join forces and leave Termina behind since neither of us had any reason to stay."

"I had no idea the Gerudo of Termina were so...cut-throat," Jeryd muttered.

"Me neither," Link said. "The Gerudo in Hyrule—"

"Different clan, different ways," Elenwe interrupted, smiling a little at them. "Our clan was never as...close, as our Hyrulian relatives are, from what I have heard. It was only a matter of time, and in hindsight I should have prepared myself for my sisters' inevitable betrayal. They were always more power-hungry than I was."

"I'm sorry..."

"Don't be," she said. "I just...needed to tell someone, someone who isn't _him_. You can only carry secrets around those you consider friends for so long, right?"

"Yeah...I understand that, definitely," Jeryd said, apparently surprised by being included in the friend category. They hadn't even known each other for a week. "And...for what it's worth, I'm sorry about Kafei..."

"It's his choice if he wants to cling to the past, even though he claims to have left it behind," she replied, shaking her head. "I've been barking up that tree for so long...it's almost good to know that nothing will come of it."

"What are you going to do now?" Link said.

"If you'll let me, I'd like to tag along with you until we're out of Lumina. After that...I don't know. Might go back to Termina and see if there is anything left of the clan to salvage, though I highly doubt it since it's been years since the schism happened."

"Well, you're more than welcome, I think," Link said, nodding. "The more the merrier."

"Thanks."

"...what do you think Kafei is going to do?"

That was the wrong question, it seemed, for Elenwe didn't even acknowledge it.

"I might even go to Hyrule...visit the clan I have only heard about there. Do you think they'd let me in?"

* * *

"May I come in?"

Ard looked up at him, nodding slightly. He then refocused on the book he had open in his lap, his eyes roaming up and down the pages. It was the book that was most likely written by Vorpheus he was reading, more specifically the pages on the seal he and his brother had created.

Riveth's tent was empty except for them. She and Rial were out preparing for the march, probably waiting for everyone to get ready before they took down the command tent, just in case.

Sheik sat in the chair opposite of Ard's, looking at him. He had no idea what to say—they hadn't spoken since before the seal had been created. Every now and then, the younger boy looked up at him, noticed him staring and darted back to the reading, though Sheik could easily see that Ard wasn't actually reading, but was simply trying to look busy.

 _Does he hate me?_ Sheik wondered. _I didn't have anything to do with Erd's death, but..._

"The seal works," he said, giving Ard a small smile. It wasn't returned, nor was the eye contact. "Took me a while to wake up, though. Did you know that was going to happen?"

"...no," the boy answered curtly.

"I guess you didn't know about this either, then," Sheik continued and pushed his hair aside and showed Ard the mark on his neck. He'd seen it in a mirror and concluded that Link had overreacted when he saw it. It was rather subtle, really, barely the size of his thumb. Of course, he didn't like having the mark there, but if it kept Speil at bay, it was worth it.

"Knew about that," Ard said, turning his book around and showing Sheik the page, and sure enough, there was a small drawing of the seal at the very bottom of it. He then continued reading.

"It hurts sometimes," Sheik said, wondering if the boy was being rude on purpose or if he was grieving. He was sure it was the latter. Losing a twin must leave a hole that will never truly be filled...and knowing Erd had died to save someone else, while noble, didn't make matters better. Did the boy wish that Erd had just let Rial die?

"...that means the entity is trying to escape. Or get your attention," Ard said as if it was the most natural thing in the world. "Take your pick."

"...pardon?" Sheik raised an eyebrow.

"You asked, before we began, if the shadow would be able to speak to you after we sealed it. The answer was only if you let it. The pain warns you that it is in activity."

The two stared at each other for a few seconds. Sheik couldn't help but wonder if the boy was pulling his leg somehow, trying to confuse him. He could not see a single lie in the boy's eyes, however. He _was_ speaking the truth.

"So...he's trying to communicate with me?" He caught himself calling Speil 'he' too late.

Ard nodded.

"...and...if I were to, say, be inclined to let him...how do I do it?"

"You simply let him." Ard looked back at Sheik, raising an eyebrow to mirror his. "It is not difficult." He then continued reading.

"I see...thank you." Sheik stood up and headed for the entrance. He stopped in front of it and looked back. "I wanted to thank you. What you and your brother did for me...I don't know how to repay you."

Ard didn't say anything, but gave a miniscule nod. A sign that no repayment was necessary, perhaps? Sheik didn't know. "Thank you, again."

Riveth was waiting for him outside, looking thoughtful. "Walk with me," she said and began heading in the direction of Link and the others. He caught up to her and they slowly sidled their way through the camp. "Rial told me that you're leaving Lumina for good once we reach the path to the border."

"That is correct," Sheik said, nodding. "At least for Link and myself. I do not know what Jeryd, Elenwe or...the Sheikah are planning to do, but _we_ are leaving. I'm sorry, general, but we—"

"Do not want to get even more involved in this war than you already are," she finished for him. "I certainly understand that. In fact, if you hadn't been planning to leave, I would urge you to go. But since you are, I have a small request to make of you."

Sheik suddenly felt wary. What did she want? "Very well, let's hear it," he said.

"I want you to take Ard."

Sheik stopped and looked at her. "Excuse me?"

Riveth shook her head. "I know it's a big thing to ask. The more there are of you, the harder it will be to cross the border unnoticed, but...I just can't with good conscience let him accompany the army on a campaign that will most likely be the death of us all. He has already lost his brother...I can't let him die as well. I just can't, do you understand?"

To be honest, Sheik had expected something like this. He knew how much she loved the twins, having acted as a surrogate mother to them from the sound of things. She was tired, the conflict draining her completely. Erd's death was just another straw on her back, which would inevitably break if even more worries were piled on. Having Ard out of the kingdom and in relative safety would be a great relief to her, he was sure. There was just no way he could say no. Yes, it could possibly compromise their crossing of the border, but at least it gave him a _chance_ to make it out alive. Not that it was his decision to make, though. All Riveth would have to do was to mention it to Link and the Hero would trip over himself to oblige. He could imagine it, even. It was a cute image, and it almost made him giggle in a most undignified way, which was why he bit it down.

"I shall have to discuss it with the Hero, of course, but I cannot see any circumstances in which he would say no, so...yes, if you want us to, we will take Ard across the border."

He didn't expect the bear hug. Riveth wrapped her surprisingly strong arms around his waist and squeezed hard, lifting him a few inches off the ground in the process. "Thank you," she said as she put him down. "Thank you so much."

"My pleasure," Sheik said, nodding. "Are you going to tell him, or...?"

"Not yet," she replied. "He won't like it, so I think it's best to wait until the moment we part to inform him."

"He will like that even less, I think."

"Yes, but he won't be able to form a cunning plan that will let him stay that way," she said, shaking her head sadly.

"Won't he be difficult for _us_ to deal with, though?"

"I don't think so. I'm not sure if Erd ever told you, but Ard is...fascinated by you. All of you, really, but _you_ in particular. He has never seen any other sentient races but humans...but the boy is too shy to actually speak to you—"

"That he is most certainly _not_ ," Sheik said, recalling the many times the younger twin had been rude to him.

"—in a way that does not come off as insulting," Riveth finished, unperturbed by Sheik's interruption. "It's just the way he is. Once he is comfortable around you, though, he will talk until your ears fall off."

"And how do I make him more comfortable around me, if I may ask?"

"No freaking idea, you'll have to find out for yourself."

"Suddenly, I regret agreeing to your request," Sheik said in a deadpan.

"Well, you can't take it back now, boyo, deal with it," she said, smirking. She patted his shoulder and began to walk away. "You shall travel with Rial and I until the time for us to part arrives. Come to the front of the column when you're ready."

"General!" Sheik exclaimed, making her stop. "If you don't think you will survive the war, why do you even fight it? Why not request help from your allies? Surely you don't need to throw your lives away just to make a point?"

"Help? Allies?" Riveth chuckled. "Our supposed allies ceased to be that years ago. Now they are simply debt collectors, only interested in getting the money they lent us back, or so I hear. No one will come to our aid, Master Sheikah, and neither do we expect them to." She smirked again. "Besides, the fewer we are, the more glory we shall harvest."

"What about Hyrule? You have had no dealings with us for years, and I don't think you owe any debts to the throne."

"Your Princess Zelda has more than enough to deal with already. Rebuilding a kingdom as devastated as yours is no easy task, and I'd be loath to interrupt her. All I ask of you, Earl, is that you remember us and what we fought for, and spread the word of what happened in Lumina."

As she walked away, Sheik clenched his fists in annoyance. _How can someone possibly be so unwilling to ask for help?_ He thought. As if on cue, the seal throbbed once. _Oh, and I suppose you have some sarcastic remark to make, do you? Well, I shan't allow you to voice it!_ He ignored the sensation and began to jog towards the others, making a note of what he was going to say in his next letter to Zelda.

He found Link, Elenwe and Jeryd watching the camp being broken up and went to sit beside the Hero, who told him that they were ready to leave at any time. Link wrapped an arm around his shoulder and pulled him close.

"We've been asked to take someone along across the border," he murmured.

"Ard?" the Hero asked. At Sheik's nod, he smiled slightly. "I had a feeling she'd ask at some point. Don't blame her either."

"So we'll be four? Excellent," Elenwe said.

"Oh, and Elenwe's travelling with us," Link added when he saw Sheik's confused expression.

"Kafei?" Sheik asked.

"Don't know. Haven't seen him since you went to talk."

"Ah...well, he's an adult, he can make his own decisions."

"Now I'm sort of worried that Sheik slit his throat and hid him a bush somewhere," Jeryd said.

They shared a laugh, the four of them, and it made Sheik's spirits rise a little. He had not taken a liking to Elenwe at first (the crossbow incident had marred their first impressions somewhat), but she didn't seem to be much of a threat, and she faintly reminded him of Ayla, whom he respected greatly.

"Uh, Sheik, there's something I want to talk to you about," Link said quietly as he stood up, pulling his lover with him. "Can you guys give us a little privacy?" he asked the others as he carefully pulled Sheik inside their tent. Elenwe and Jeryd agreed and left them, saying they were going to try and find some apples for Shun, who happily followed them, the prospect of apples luring her away.

"Okay, what is i—mmph!"

He wasn't even able to finish his sentence before the Hero was upon him; crushing their lips together with such force that it nearly took him off his feet. It was a desperate, needy kiss, filled with longing as Link pulled him as close as he possibly could, as if he wanted their bodies to become one. It filled Sheik with warmth, and every trace of the annoyance he felt at his lover vanished the second he felt Link's tongue poking at his lips. He happily obliged and opened his mouth, letting Link explore his mouth like it was a newfound land.

He felt himself go weak in the knees as he began to run out of air, but Link only took advantage of this to gently lower him to the floor, on top of the blankets and skins they had slept on during the night.

He moaned as he felt the Hero's hand slip under his shirt and begin to wander, his fingers trailing every contour and lingering over long-healed scars.

When Link finally let him come up for air, he panted, his face burning with an intense blush. He wasn't allowed to rest for long however, as Link immediately attacked his throat, kissing, licking and nipping at the sensitive skin, making Sheik whimper as the Hero's hand continued its exploration of his upper body. It found a nipple and pinched it teasingly.

"Goddesses, I've missed you," Link murmured between nipping. "And your sounds..."

"Ngh, Link..." Sheik whimpered, feeling like putty in Link's hands. "S-stop..."

"Why? You don't like it?" Link asked, pausing to look him in the eye.

"N-no, it's not t-that..." Sheik said. "We just don't have the t-time..."

"Not for the full thing, no," Link grinned wickedly. "But at least I can make _you_ feel happy, hee..." He gave Sheik no more chances to protest as he kissed him full on the lips and then returned to the poor Sheikah's neck.

"Link...ah—"

"Quiet," Link whispered. "Do you want everyone to hear you?"

There was no way Sheik was able to keep quiet when Link's other hand slipped underneath his trousers, but the Hero silenced him with another searing kiss that filled every fibre of Sheik's body with need, which Link immediately found.

Moaning, Sheik let himself relax under Link's ministrations. _I...suppose we have...a little time..._


	5. Chapter 5

* * *

**Soul Remnants  
Chapter 41**

* * *

Victor sighed unhappily as he watched _The Chimera_ take off from what had once been the royal balcony. It was loaded to the brim with guns and ammunition, not to mention a large unit of trained "air cavalry" soldiers who were trained for "rapid insertion and extraction", whatever that meant. They were heading north to assist General Agon in taking on Riveth's forces, which he was apparently having some trouble with. From the looks of things, Victor highly doubted Riveth would be able to hold out against Agon for long. The last report he'd received spoke of over half of Riveth's forces being eliminated in the first battle alone—that did not bode well for any subsequent encounters. Victor could only hope that the makeshift army he'd gathered at Baroness Denal's grounds would reach her in time...and that it was worth the price he had paid.

That had been his first time. _His first_. He always read in novels and such that a person's first should be special and magical, that the entire thing is supposed to be some great milestone in their life. There would be rose petals flying through the air, blushing and muttered apologies and awkwardness and... None of it had been present when the mercenary knight had claimed his price for joining the rebellion. It had just been thoroughly unpleasant, and he'd felt dirty for days afterwards. And then there was the risk of Iteos bragging about his conquest, the one which he'd so long desired. Come to think of it, it wasn't as much a risk as it was a certainty. He sighed again, knowing that there was no way he'd be able to hide what he did from Rial.

Why was it so important to him to hide it from Rial? Well, it was only normal, wasn't it, to hide one's shameful actions from the person one loved? Because that's what it was: love. He should have seen it from the beginning-the flutter in his stomach whenever he saw the captain, the slight tickle in his skin wherever Rial touched him during sword training, the sheer longing he had felt in the weeks after the massacre of the Royal Guards, and still did. It had been a quiet revelation that had come to him during an evening bath and left him feeling slightly puzzled and relieved. What he'd thought were confusing feelings of a too-close camradery were actually romantic in nature. It was good to finally have some closure on that particular point.

Someone knocked on his door. He told them to enter. The old man who had previously been Victor's father's personal servant, Jan, entered carrying a tray with his breakfast upon it. Toast, eggs and bacon. For a prisoner, Victor certainly did not eat poorly. Jan quietly set the tray on the table in the middle of his chambers before turning his attention completely to Victor.

"Will there be anything else, Your Majesty?" he asked. His wrinkled face looked at him with sympathy. He knew the king's plight.

"A confirmation that I am not insane?" Victor said, only half-jokingly. "No one seems to believe me when I say it."

"I am not qualified to issue a statement concerning one's own mental health, much less that of Your Majesty," Jan said, giving him a little smile. A joke. Victor had always liked that about Jan. While he took his job one hundred percent seriously, he still made jokes whenever he could, especially to Victor. Victor's father had not been fond of Jan's jokes in the days leading up to his assassination, but he tolerated them nonetheless even through Rehm's poisoning. "And neither is, I strongly suspect, the good councillor," he added.

"You don't believe him?" Victor said, a small spark of hope coming to life in his chest.

"I am more inclined to believe the family that I have served and taken care of for the last fifty years before I will ever believe what that snake has to say. If you will pardon my language, Your Majesty." He poured the tea and added sugar in Victor's usual desired amount.

"I...thank you, Jan," Victor said, grateful. "I'm glad at least _someone_ believes me!"

"'Tis my pleasure, sir," Jan replied. "I believe the baker is preparing a rather impressive cake for tonight's celebration. Shall I arrange for a piece or two to be brought to you later?"

"Celebration? What celebration?"

"Agon's apparent victory over the rebellion, I believe," Jan said, grimacing at the notion. "A ridiculous concept if I ever heard one, if I may say so, Your Majesty."

"What, you don't think the rebellion has been crushed?" Victor asked miserably.

"I wouldn't know about any of that, sir, I merely find the idea of celebrating the action of killing one's own countrymen slightly...off-putting. Really, celebrating anyone's death is a peculiar thing to me." He blinked, as if realising who he was speaking to and bowed again. "Apologies, Your Majesty, I let my personal opinions come to bear, and-"

"No need to apologise, Jan," Victor said hurriedly. "If anything, I don't want you to voice anything _but_ your personal opinions from now on. I hate it when people mask themselves just because I am king. I believe my father had a similar arrangement with you, or am wrong?"

Jan shook his head. "You are not wrong, Your Majesty. Your father was...an interesting man. He regularly took council with me whenever he needed a more or less neutral perspective on issues. I do not wish to presume, sir, but I believe he valued my advice. In fact, he valued it so much that he entrusted to me a letter of great importance that you were to read."

"He did? Where is it, then?"

"You have already found it, Your Majesty," Jan said. "In a certain chair..."

"You were the one who hid the letter in the throne, weren't you?" Victor asked.

"Indeed, Your Majesty," the older man said, nodding again. "Your father showed me the secret compartment, though I believe you found it in a less conspicuous manner."

"I didn't even know about the compartment..."

"No one but your father and I did. I was to tell you a few months after his death, which he foresaw, but you found it before I was able to." He bowed again. "I apologise for my tardiness."

Victor fixed the man with a stare. "Did my father give you any other instructions before he died? Because if he did, I would very much like to hear them."

"Other than to look out for you, Your Majesty, he did not. He believed you were ready to rule on your own. Of course, he didn't anticipate...this."

"I never understood why my father never had Rehm arrested if he knew what he was up to." Victor sat in a chair by his breakfast and nibbled on a piece of toast. "Surely he would not have stood for it."

"By the time he realised it, sir, your father barely had time to write the letter and give it to me before he succumbed to whatever nasty brew the councillor used on him," Jan said apologetically. "I would have tried to go to the guards myself, but I fear they would not have believed me-"

"What about me, then? I would have believed you, Jan..."

"I...I was not sure if you would have, sir," Jan said, looking at him. "You were burdened with much at the time, and your father was assassinated the day after. I believed it would be better to wait until you were at your full wits again before revealing it all to you... Of course, had I known then what the councillor was planning to do, I would have told you immediately. And now it is, regrettably, too late."

"Rehm has been spreading his poisoned words all over the kingdom by now, hasn't he?" Victor said, his appetite long gone. "He is king in everything but title."

"Not everywhere, sir," Jan said. "The outlying regions close to Æsir Fortress do not pay much attention to what happens in the capital. I cannot imagine they care much for what Councillor Rehm has to say about this and that."

"Not that it does us much good," Victor said. "Especially not if Riveth is defeated."

Jan remained silent, underlining the fact that he was not a military thinker. Instead he cleared his throat and looked pointedly at the tray. "I believe Your Majesty's breakfast is getting cold."

"I'm not hungry-"

"You shall eat, Your Majesty, lest I be forced to shove it down your throat. Your father ordered me to look out for you, and I shall not shirk my duties. Your Majesty has not eaten, and that will simply not do. So, with all due respect, sir, eat the damn food."

It was impossible not to comply with such a fierce order from someone Victor had always considered a gentle man. As he shovelled the breakfast into his mouth, he wondered briefly if Jan had been like this with Robar as well. As if reading his mind, Jan nodded. That only made Victor eat faster. He had never expected this of the man, but it was good to know that he still had allies in the castle. And it was that thought that gave him an idea.

"My father asked you to look out for me, which means helping me with whatever I need, correct?"

"Yes, Your Majesty."

He swallowed an errant piece of bacon. "And that means anything, right?"

"If it is within my power, Your Majesty."

"Then listen very closely, Jan, for we are about to cease being static game pieces. Here is what I need you to do..."

* * *

Sheik was in a good mood when the army began to march that afternoon. The smug grin on Link's face told him that the Hero was feeling very much the same. While it was true that the one thing Sheik missed the most during their separation was just having Link close, it was the things that resulted from said closeness that he had missed even more. How he'd longed for the Hylian to touch him and make him feel like that...

"I don't even want to know what happened in that tent," Elenwe muttered to Jeryd as they walked behind the pair of lovers radiating with afterglow.

"I actually kinda do," Jeryd said, grinning. "Anything that can cause Sheik to make sounds like _that_ is worth a go, I reckon."

Blushing, Sheik ignored the hushed conversation. They were doing it on purpose, he was sure of it. He looked at Link and found a matching set of red cheeks on the Hero. Their eyes met, and a silent pact to strangle Elenwe and Jeryd in their sleep later was made.

"Look, they're blushing..."

He renewed his efforts in ignoring them and looked around at the army. They were so few...barely a fourth of their original numbers. He wondered if there'd be anyone left by the end of the week. Probably not, he surmised. And yet the joking and light-hearted atmosphere remained. It was like they refused to acknowledge that they possibly couldn't win the upcoming battle. It was brave...and foolish at the same time.

"Seen Kafei anywhere?" Link asked suddenly, looking at him with curiosity.

"No," Sheik said dismissively. "I don't particularly care where he is, either." It was only half-true, the last statement. He was still angry at Kafei, and he had a feeling that nothing would ever be able to extinguish that particular flame. The amount of information that Kafei had unloaded on him earlier that day was simply too much to take in all at once, not to mention coming to eventual terms with it...or exposing it all as lies... It seemed like Kafei was afraid of what Sheik would decide in the end, and was keeping his distance until that moment, as if his presence could somehow worsen it all.

There wasn't even any way to make sure that his distant cousin spoke the truth. Link's repeated attempts to contact the Sages by way of Saria's Song had failed, just like his attempts to summon Epona and Maladict had yet to produce results. If only he could have spoken to Impa...she would have confirmed or denied it all, exposing Kafei as either a very unfortunate individual who had the worst luck in the world (even worse than Sheik's!) or a lying fraud who had framed Sheik for regicide. Well, the last part was true anyway, but the motives would change significantly based on whether he was being a liar or truthful.

It was all so...annoying. If Kafei was being honest, then Sheik had no right to be angry at him for anything that happened before they came to Lumina (what happened after was a different story altogether, but he'd deal with that when he reached the bridge). His leaving the Sheikah had been blessed by Impa, nearly killing Sheik had been an accident and...Impa had killed her own kin. Hell, it had all been huge misunderstandings based on Sheik's lack of patience when he was younger. It was frustrating to not know whether he should be wracked with guilt or be satisfied with the fact that he had been right all along. The first option was bad enough, but the second...the second meant that Sheik had no blood relatives left in the world that he could trust now that Impa had ascended. It meant that he was utterly alone...and would probably be the last of his kind after Kafei died-which was bound to happen at some point or another if the rate at which he offended and or angered people was kept at a constant.

"What are you thinking so hard about?" Link asked, looking at him. At Sheik's confused expression, he poked him on the forehead. "I can practically see the cogs and gears working in there, especially since your forehead is creasing like an old man's."

"Just...things," Sheik said, looking away.

"If it's about Kafei, I think it can wait until we're out of the kingdom, don't you?" the Hero said. "We have enough to deal with already, I mean..."

"Yeah," Sheik agreed. "But..."

"But what?"

"I'd rather have an exact location on him. Makes him easier to keep an eye on." He looked at Link. "We still don't know what he's up to."

"Sheik..."

"Link, just let me have this one, okay? I've gone through most of my life being suspicious of mostly everything, and it has usually paid off. Until we can speak to Impa and confirm what he told me...us...I will remain sceptical."

Link looked like he was about to protest, but then nodded. "All right," he said. "But...try not to do overdo it, yeah? If he's really speaking the truth then..."

"Then I have a lot of hate and anger to make up for, yes, but if he isn't then there is plenty more where it came from."

"Not to be an arse," Jeryd said, breaking into the conversation, "but that sounds childish to me."

"I _am_ a child according to most laws, so I'm allowed to be so if I wish," Sheik said, sniffing jokingly.

"Goddesses..."

The conversation went on like this for another half an hour, after which a comfortable silence fell over the group. At some point, though none of them were able to gauge exactly when, Kafei appeared just behind them. He didn't say anything, but kept the pace beside Jeryd, being careful to avoid Elenwe's gazes. Sheik looked at him, feeling incredibly awkward.

"Um...we're leaving Lumina," Link said, trying to start up the conversation again. "What are you going to do, Kafei?"

"Leave," the Sheikah said quietly. "There's nothing left for me here except a towering debt with the assassin's guild, which I'm quite keen on avoiding for as long as possible."

"Assassins?" Jeryd asked, perking up. "What did you do to attain a debt with them?"

Link and Sheik exchanged glances, knowing full well why the ex-clerk was suddenly interested in Kafei's dealings with the assassins. He was one, after all.

"Hired them to find my beloved cousin over there," Kafei answered, pointing at Sheik. "Though it turned out to be a waste of money and time since I ended having to find him myself. Laziest and most useless trackers I have ever had the misfortune of working with."

"Ah..." Jeryd said nothing to that, but Sheik could see that he wanted to protest badly. "I hear they're quite skilled in other areas, though..."

"That may be, but I never hired them to do anything but track, so I am not qualified to have an opinion on that."

"Tch, always avoiding giving definite answers," Elenwe muttered.

"Excuse me?" Kafei looked at her, glaring.

"I'm just saying that you speak high and mighty when it comes to yourself, but always avoids it on other subjects. You interacted with the assassins, you have an opinion on them in every area, not just their tracking skills," she said, avoiding looking at him. "You're just afraid of offending someone."

"Given that I shove my foot in my mouth more often than not, I'd hardly say I'm afraid—"

"Then why don't you tell the truth about Jeryd's colleagues?" She realised too late what she had said, her eyes widening. "I'm sorry," she said, looking at Jeryd. "I didn't mean—"

"How did you even know that?" Jeryd asked, eyes equally wide.

"The way you move when you think you're alone," Kafei answered for Elenwe. "It is clear that you have been trained quite well in the art of stealth, and the way you handle that dagger of yours...there is no way it is self-taught. The only logical conclusion is that you are a trained assassin, and there is only one organisation in the entire kingdom, so—"

"All right, all right, I get it," Jeryd said, hissing to keep everyone's voices down. "Yes, you're right. Happy? Now, what do you think about my guild as a whole?"

"Bunch of amateurs who think that emulating the Sheikah will somehow bring them power and respect," he said quietly. "No disrespect to you, of course, since you have proven yourself infinitely more capable than the rest just by being alive right now."

Sheik shook his head, rolling his eyes at the conversation. It was like listening to a bad story from a horrid novel by an awful writer.

The sun was starting to set when they finally reached the crossroad in the forest, though none of them would have known what it was if Rial hadn't stopped the march and approached them since it was just a small clearing with a narrow path leading north.

"Well, here we are," the newly-promoted general said. "Follow this path for a week or so and you will reach the foot of the Iron Mountains. It'll be tough, but you should be able to climb them and cross the border as long as you stay away from the garrison in the Diamond Pass." He scratched his neck. "I wish I could help you more, but I've never travelled by that route before, so..."

"It is more than enough help, general, thank you," Link said, smiling at the older man.

"Right...I truly wish we could have parted under better circumstances," Rial said, looking embarrassed. "And for what it's worth, I'm sorry for dragging you into this mess, as is the king."

"You speak on his behalf?" Sheik asked, wondering if his suspicions about the general's feelings towards the current king were correct.

"I have protected King Victor for most of my military career, my lord, and I believe that I know him better than anyone else, and I strongly believe that if he were here right now he would be on his knees, begging for your forgiveness."

 _Ah, and that all but confirms it, doesn't it?_ Sheik thought as he nodded, also making a note of the fact that Rial had referred to him as a lord. During his journeys, he had often forgotten that Zelda had made him a noble just before they left Hyrule. It felt strange to be referred to as such, but still... _So, the bodyguard has feelings for the man he's supposed to protect? Sounds oddly familiar..._ "I understand, general, and I would be most grateful if you could deliver my forgiveness to him when you win the war."

The general smiled broadly. They both knew how unlikely it was that Rial would ever see his king again. "That will be a great relief to His Majesty, I'm sure."

"I'm glad."

"Well, I suppose you should get going before you lose the last light. It will be a long way home, and I'm sure you're anxious to get started—"

"Hang on, hang on!" Riveth's voice interrupted as she talked hurriedly towards them with Ard in tow. The boy did not look pleased. "You weren't thinking of sending them on their way without giving me an opportunity to say goodbye, were you?" she asked her nephew. "Besides, they're missing one companion."

"No, we're not," Link said brightly, counting them all. "One, two, three, four. Four. We're not missing anyone."

"Five," Riveth said, pushing Ard slightly forward. The warlock made an unhappy sound, but did not protest any further. His eyes were red-rimmed and wet, just like Riveth's, leading Sheik to conclude that they had given their goodbyes in private just before coming here. He shuffled closer to Sheik, though it was a barely noticeable action.

"Ard's coming with us?" Link asked.

"He is," Sheik confirmed, sparing Riveth the trouble of explaining it.

"Ah. Okay." The Hero took it in stride, much to his credit. Sheik had expected him to give at least a token protest before agreeing to taking on another mouth to feed. "Where are we taking him, exactly?"

"Anywhere that isn't here," Riveth said, absentmindedly tugging on Ard's mask, which he'd pulled up to hide his face. "Anywhere he won't risk getting killed just because of who he is and what he can do." She grinned slightly when Ard made a weak attempt to slap her hand away. "Behave, young man."

"Wonderful, bringing a volatile wizard along isn't going to make things risky at _all_."

Sheik heard Kafei mutter it under his breath, and was about to turn around and give him a piece of his mind, but Elenwe beat him to it by stamping on his foot and hissing into his ear, "If you don't want to be around him, stay here."

The Sheikah's mouth twitched at the sudden assault on his person, but didn't reply. Sheik almost caught himself sympathising with his cousin, given that the heels on Elenwe's boots were of the massive kind, but quickly repressed it. He would remain neutral towards Kafei until the truth could be ascertained.

"Right, I'm not one for long, tearful goodbyes, so this is it," Riveth said, hugging Ard one more time before nodding to the others. "Farewell, my friends. It has been...interesting to meet you. I hope you make it across the border safely." She looked at Ard, who looked forlornly back at her, apparently resigned to the fact that he wouldn't see his adoptive mother ever again. "Make sure to become the strongest warlock to have ever lived, Ard, stronger than the Enlightened One, even, and come back...and finish the job we started." One last hug, and then she was walking back to the front of the column, leaving Ard with a group of people she probably wasn't even sure she trusted a hundred percent.

Rial looked awkwardly at the group for a few seconds before nodding. "Right, I'm not one for goodbyes in general, so...good luck on your journey home, everyone. And Ard," he put a hand on the boy's shoulder, "I will always be in you and your brother's debt. If... _when_ you come back, find me and I will pay you back somehow." Without another word, he followed his aunt. A shouted command and the army continued to march towards their doom. The soldiers nodded to their guests as they passed by, particularly Ard.

Jeryd seemed torn for a second before following the army without a word, only exchanging glances with Link and Sheik before running after. Sheik was surprised to find himself disappointed with that goodbye most of all. He had been through a lot with the clerk, and to leave it like this... He supposed it was just the way Jeryd wanted it, though, and left it at that. They'd never forget each other, of that he was certain.

They stood there, watching the army until they disappeared behind the trees, leaving them utterly alone, surrounded by hundreds of footprints in the snow.

"So, that's it, then?" Link asked. "Our adventure in Lumina is over."

"For now," Sheik said. "I have a feeling that Zelda won't stand for this and take action."

"Are you certain of that?" Kafei asked.

"Absolutely," Sheik said, staring at him. "I know this because I took the time to actually get to know her."

It must have stung a lot more than Sheik intended, for Kafei remained silent and looked away, rubbing his gloved hands together to keep warm. No reply came.

"What do you think she's going to do?" Link asked. "She's not going to start a war, is she?"

"Doubtful, but I imagine she will send some _very_ strongly worded letters, both to Lumina and her surrounding kingdoms."

"How are letters going to help, if I may ask?" Elenwe said, looking confused.

" _No one_ can write a letter like the princess, believe you me," Sheik replied. "She can distil such vitriol and sheer nastiness into a single sentence on a piece of paper that it will make anyone who reads it feel dread on a scale which they did not think was possible." He left out the part that she had once written one to him after a very unfortunate incident involving a patch of roses in her garden when they were younger. She had forgiven him in the same letter, of course, but the words preceding that had been...unpleasant to read, to say the least.

"I'll take your word for it, then," the Gerudo said.

"So will I," Link said, looking at the path they were to follow into the mountains. "But I think we should get a move on before we lose any more light. It's going to be a long trip, and our supplies aren't gonna last forever."

"Agreed," Kafei said and began to walk, followed closely by Link and Elenwe.

Sheik waited, intending to take the up the position of rear guard for their little group, but when Ard didn't move, he raised an eyebrow. The boy continued to look in the direction Riveth had gone, certainly anxious to run back to her and the army.

"She'll only send you back," Sheik said, trying to sound gentle. He liked to think he was improving at dealing with children...ignoring the fact that he very much was one himself. "If you try going back to them, I mean."

Ard continued looking, and replied, "I know," quietly. "She told me that too."

"She's sending you away for your own good," Sheik continued. "You're not safe here."

"Neither is she, and yet she gets to fight along with everyone else." He looked down. "It's not fair."

Sheik smiled, albeit a tad bitterly. "Life isn't fair in general. You will get used to it."

Ard looked at him, his intensely green eyes sizing him up and down. "Will that make me more like you? Getting used to it?"

Sheik paused, not really understanding the question. "I...suppose so..."

Ard nodded. "Okay," he said and began trudging through the snow, following the others' footprints. After a few steps, he paused and looked back at Sheik. "Are you coming?" he asked.

"Ah, yes," Sheik said and caught up to him quickly, haunted by a niggling feeling that he had just made his life even more complicated.

* * *

"Incompetent fool," Rehm muttered as he read over the last report he'd received from Agon again and again. It was as if the man was purposefully trying to annoy him by being vague and obtuse about his orders. "Should have found someone else..."

This was why he hated working with people. They were stupid, and slow, and selfish, and bound to make blunders and mistakes that would ruin even the best laid schemes. Gross incompetence ran rampant everywhere, and greed governed every single action everyone took. No one did something for nothing or the satisfaction...unless it was of the sexual kind. It was frustrating, knowing that if he truly wanted to get anything done in a satisfactory fashion, he'd have to do it himself.

But he was only one man, and as much as he hated to admit it, not all-powerful. Until his plans came to fruition, he would have to rely on the unwashed masses. And that was why he kept reading the reports and pretending to care about what his co-conspirators had to say. That would end soon enough, though, as soon as he got confirmation from Marlotta and Agon. After that there would only be one more piece of the puzzle left to find and that—

There was a knock on the door, and a haggard-looking man dressed in filthy miner's clothes came into the room, carrying a bundle wrapped up in linen.

"Councillor, sir, I—"

"Is that it?" Rehm asked, feeling elation from just imagining what was lying within the linen. "Did you finally discover it?"

"Yes, sir," the man said, nodding and putting the bundle reverently on the table in front of him. "I was dispatched to bring it here the second we found it. We didn't even have time to clean—"

"That matters not," Rehm said and carefully began unwrapping the bundle. He could feel the energy radiating from the object within, confirming that this was indeed the item he'd had them search for. "You recovered it from...?"

"The Hall of Silence, just as you said," the man replied. "Within the sarcophagus."

"Excellent," Rehm said, uncovering the item. It didn't look like much, a smooth piece of dark marble the size of a fist, into which hundreds of tiny, strange symbols had been carved, hidden under a thick layer of grime. But the energy emanating from it all but confirmed that it was magical in nature. This was it, the piece of the puzzle Rehm had expected to find last. He smiled, overjoyed. "And no one else has disturbed the Hall itself?"

"No, sir," the man confirmed. "The entire fortress has lain untouched since the cataclysm. People believed it to be cursed" He sniffed, as if to underline how ridiculous he thought it to be. "The other workers and I can't _wait_ to start uncovering the secrets left behind there." He rubbed his hands together excitedly. "It's a veritable treasure trove!"

"And I, for one, will be excited to see what else you can find as you continue your exploration," Rehm said, standing up and shaking the man's hand, ignoring the coat of dust that was left behind. The man winced slightly, surely surprised at being able to shake the hands of the currently most powerful man in the kingdom. "Off you go, now. The servants will bring you to your quarters. Rest and recover your strength before heading back. I have high hopes for you and your colleagues."

"Thank you, sir," the man said and left Rehm's office, his heavy boots thumping down the corridor. Rehm grinned to himself as he relaxed his hand, the tiny needle he had nestled between his index and ring fingers jingling as it hit the desk. He picked it up and regarded it for a bit before throwing it in the bin. Then he steepled his fingers together and waited.

It didn't take long. There was another knock on his door, and a guard came in. "Apologies, sir, but the archaeologist...he collapsed in the hallway. He's dead."

Rehm frowned expertly, having perfected the art. "Oh dear...that is unfortunate. He must have picked up some sort of disease at the site. A young man like that, in his prime...such a waste..."

"Disease, sir?" the guard asked.

"They lurk in the dark and dank places in the world, private," Rehm said, fishing out a piece of paper from a desk drawer and beginning to write on it. "I'm afraid we cannot risk it spreading. Have the physician burn the archaeologist's body, and then make sure that this letter reaches the captain in charge of the dig site." He sealed the envelope with the King's seal and gave it to the guard. "For the captain's eyes only."

"Sir," the guard saluted and went about his duty.

It was a shame, having to kill the archaeologists. They were some of the very few people he had met over the years that he found to possess the same spirit of exploration and desire to learn that he himself prided himself over. But they could not be allowed to live. They knew too much already, and no one could be allowed to learn what else was buried in that fortress.

Sighing, he picked up Agon's report again and read it over a few more times before throwing it in the fireplace. As he watched the flames consume the paper, he hoped that this was the last he would hear from the general in a while. If the airmen couldn't bring the situation under control, then they could all rot in Freyborough for all he cared. All he needed now was the Silver Guard out of the way and the mines reopened, and everything would be ready...

"Yes, all is going according to plan now..." he muttered, mustering his patience for the celebration of Agon's hopefully impending victory. "Just a matter of time. It will be glorious..."

* * *

"How about here?"

"No, that's the most heavily guarded crossing in the entire mountain chain."

"But that's the only one wide enough for an army to pass through without having to spend weeks doing it."

"Not as such. See this one here? It seems too narrow, but last year a series of earthquakes opened up another pass right next to it. It is more than wide enough to pass through. There is a...slight problem, however."

"Which is?"

"The King commissioned a fort to be built there and garrisoned with seasoned troops. I am not sure if it is finished yet. If it is, we will have a hard time passing it."

"If we are considered hostile when we try to cross, that is."

"We most likely will be, if what your man says in the letter is true." Mirn sighed. "I have a strong suspicion I was sent to Hyrule as pretence, Your Highness."

Zelda looked up from the map on the table, giving the man a confused look. "What do you mean, general?"

"A takeover on the scale that your man describes would have taken months, if not years to plan. Rehm would have done thorough research, deciding where he would commit to converting people to his cause. He must have known that absolutely nothing would sway my loyalty to the King, and so manipulated Robar to send me to Hyrule to help with the rebuilding. He must have jumped at the chance to remove me from the equation."

"That does indeed seem plausible, general," Zelda agreed. "But it is too late to dwell on it. We need to focus on the present and how we are going to proceed once we have crossed the mountains into the kingdom. What will our first target be?"

"The most important thing is to secure a stronghold," Mirn said, snapping out of his mood. "If we travel quickly, we can take Gelamor and establish a base of operations."

"Gelamor?" she said.

"Walled city close to the pass," Mirn explained. "Won't last long under a siege, of course, but as a place to maintain command it is excellent."

"Mhm." Zelda nodded and drew a circle around the city on the map. "And then?"

"Then we send out scouts to get an immediate overview of the situation and, depending on where the enemy forces are, we either take them on or march on the capital. I highly doubt the latter will be possible right away, however."

"Of course," Zelda said. "I must warn you, general, that my first priority after establishing the stronghold will be to search for my friends."

"Of course, Your Highness," Mirn replied, smiling. "I wouldn't dream of standing between you and those you seek. Especially not when you've brought along fifteen-hundred of your own men."

"I'd rather bring too many than too few," Zelda said. "Combined with your five thousand, we should be a formidable force."

"It should be enough, at least," Mirn said. "We will have to sway as people as we can to our side if we hope to be able to take the capital, however. The Royal Army alone numbers at least sixty thousand men and women, not counting the other branches of the military."

"I'm sure we will succeed, general, we just have to have hope."

The human looked at her and smiled. "It fills me with confidence when you say it, ma'am. Now, if you will excuse me, I need to confer with some of my officers."

"Of course, general. Good evening."

"Ma'am."

When he was gone, she continued to study the map, intending to learn everything there was to know about Lumina's terrain. It was going to be difficult, but she was confident that Sheik and Link would be recovered quickly, and then diplomacy could start in order to return Lumina to its rightful ruler. She had never met this Victor, but she was confident that he was as able a ruler as his father.

"We're coming, boys...just hold on."

* * *

**Soul Remnants  
Chapter 42**

* * *

"Kill me, kill me now! Please!"

The words rang out across the courtyard, where multiple men stood, their faces downcast and sullen, their arms tied behind their backs with thick rope, forced to watch. The one who had shouted was tied up on a rack, his face contorted with pain and agony, his voice broken from the cries of agony. The pain was excruciating, and it had lasted for hours already, and would last for hours more if the look of glee on the torturer's face was anything to judge by. The torturer turned the wheels and pulled on the cranks, practically giggling at the reactions he got from the man.

At some point, tendons and ligaments had snapped, and the man's right arm had popped out of its socket, the only thing keeping it attached to its owner being the rapidly whitening skin. It was a matter of what broke first-the skin, or the man's will. The torturer had already crushed his will to live; now it was only a matter of time before his loyalty suffered the same fate.

"Kill me, I beg of you!"

"Not until you tell me what I want," the torturer told him with a twisted smile on his face. "Who are the rebels and where are they hiding?"

"I...I don't know what you're talking about!"

A wet, snapping sound came from within the victim's body, and he howled. The torturer grinned.

"Oh dear, it seems your spine is next in line. Quite early. I expected your femurs to pop out first."

"You're a monster!" one of the unwilling spectators cried, spitting in the torturer's direction. "A damned monster!"

The torturer made a waving motion with his hand, and one of the guards standing behind them kicked the protester in the back of the knees, forcing him to kneel. The torturer walked up to him, bending down and giving him a bright smile.

"Monster? No, I am an artist. The human body is my canvas and the entire world is my stage. With my instruments, I can produce sounds and sights that musicians and painters can only _dream_ about!" He straightened up, looking back at his victim, who was breathing heavily and sobbing quietly to himself. "Look at that," he said, "look at that. How can that be described as anything but a thing of beauty? The juxtaposition of a grown, strong man forced into the state of a child...it's...breathtaking." He sighed. "A pity that I am not given any _interesting_ subjects...I am forced to commit my art on you peasants. It is sad, that an artist such as I should be forced to work with these...lacking materials. A damn shame is what it is, and I shan't stand for it much longer. You hear me? I _shan't_!"

As he screamed, he kicked the protester in the jaw with his knee, tore the spear out of the hands of the guard standing behind him and sticking it deep into his belly, twisting and jiggling until the protester was stone dead, his unseeing eyes staring up at the torturer. The torturer grinned happily, as if he had just performed some great feat. Looking at the guard, he shrugged.

"Looks like someone will have to clean this up, doesn't it?" he said.

"Yes, and it's going to be you," a female voice boomed out across the courtyard. Footsteps approached, accentuated by the sound of wood knocking against the cobblestones on the ground. A woman came limping out from the tunnel connecting the courtyard to the rest of the keep, her left hand firmly gripping a cane. "What have I told you about torturing peasants? Your mess, you clean it up!"

The torturer bowed sheepishly. "Yes, mistress matron. Of course, mistress matron."

"Just mistress, you idiot. Playing games again, are we?" she asked, hobbling over to the poor man on the rack, examining him closely. "What false crimes are you accused of then, my good man?" she asked.

"H-harbouring t-traitors," the tortured managed to force out between clenched teeth.

The woman grunted.

"You can never come up with anything original, can you, Grim?" she asked the torturer, who shrugged.

"I am not a writer, mistress Aina. Merely a—"

"—sculptor of the anatomical, yes, I know," she interrupted him. "Now, I am going to tell you this slowly so there's absolutely no chance whatsoever that you will misunderstand me: Stop. Torturing. Civilians. Is that understood? These men are, I assume, absolutely innocent?"

Grim looked unhappy, but nodded.

"Then let them go," she said, flicking an auburn lock behind her hair. "Send them back to wherever they're from. And compensate them for the trouble."

"Yes, mistress..."

"What about this one?" she asked, indicating the one on the rack. "Can he be saved?"

"Would be a tortured existence, mistress," Grim said, giggling at his own joke. "His joints are useless now. Amputation is an option, of course, but it would leave him as...a torso with a head, really."

"Pity," she said and drew a dagger across the racked man's throat, almost too fast to see. The tortured man made a few choking sounds and trembled, but finally fell silent and stopped moving. She looked between the one on the rack and the protester, who still had the guard's spear sticking out of his stomach. "Clean up this mess, Grim. And if I ever see you torturing someone without authorisation again, I will have your head shipped to the King on a plate. Understand?"

"Yes, mistress," Grim said unhappily and set about removing the bodies. "You lot are free to go, but stay out of trouble, you hear?" he told the rest of the men, who could hardly believe their luck as their bonds were cut by the guards. They were then hounded out of the courtyard and, presumably, back to their farms.

Aina sighed and went back inside the manor, wondering when HER mistress was coming back. Marlotta had been gone for two weeks now, leading a large contingent of her own men in addition to a battalion from the Royal Army towards Prison's Peak, where she was presumably going to do something about the Silver Guard. She had been told to stay behind and guard the manor and Urne from the mercenaries to the south, but so far they had been on their best behaviour, which frustrated her. She needed to be in combat again soon, her body ached for it.

Actually, the ache was more for revenge than anything else. Revenge on that Gerudo bitch, Elenwe, who had been nothing more than a spy for the Hero of Time and his toy boy, the Sheikah. How she longed to wrap her fingers around the dark-skinned girl's throat and _squeeze_... Or maybe Aina would break her spine first, show her what it was like to be a cripple. It was bad enough being female in the assassin guild, with all the idiocy coming from the male members, but a crippled woman was a double foul, and it was already affecting her career. Elenwe had ruined Aina's life, and she wasn't going to stop until she had ruined hers.

* * *

"I told you not to contact me here," Jeryd hissed at the cloaked assassin standing on the other side of the large oak tree he was leaning against. That way, no one could see the uninvited guest, and if they saw him talking they assumed it was to himself. "These people are already on edge, they don't need to know there's an assassin here as well. It'll make the powder keg explode."

"That hurts, Jerry," the assassin said.

"And don't call me that. No one gets to call me that anymore."

"Feisty as ever, have to admit I've missed that since you left."

"Get to the point, Lezal, I don't have time for this."

"Seems you've got plenty of it since you've blown the cover we worked for so long to build for you. Only the sons and daughters of nobles are picked as clerks and assistants to the councillors, but we managed to get Ise to choose you with some...embellishments. And you threw all that away the second the King gets murdered." Lezal shook his head. "That's not like you, panicking like that."

"I didn't panic," Jeryd muttered. "I merely...acted on instinct rather than according to the identity I'd built up. The Sheikah was innocent and needed to go free, and I ensured that it happened."

"At the expense of something that took years to build," the assassin reminded him. "You weren't even activated yet. For all intents and purposes, you were leading a normal life. Wasn't that all you wanted in the first place? You are a strange man, Jer..."

"Fuck you," Jeryd hissed. "I did what was right, just like anyone else in the guild would have done. We pride ourselves on emulating the Sheikah, yet we are supposed to do nothing when one of the two last remaining members gets in trouble here? I'm sure the master would see fit to forgive me."

"He will, I imagine," Lezal confirmed, nodding. "On one condition."

"Which was?"

"You know what it was, Jer. And you've already screwed it up. The master won't be happy about it. That's all I came to say. For now, consider yourself under probation. Displease the master further, and we shall be forced to take drastic actions."

"Can hardly be more drastic than getting killed in a battle," Jeryd said. "I'm travelling with a doomed army, in case you haven't noticed."

"I have, and honestly I am hoping you _do_ die here, because at least it will be relatively quick compared to what the guild will do to you if you fail us again."

"...and all of this I was already perfectly aware of," Jeryd said. "Why are you here, Lezal? The _real_ reason."

"To warn an old friend, of course," Lezal said, his voice disappearing along with his footsteps crunching in the snow. "I haven't forgotten that, unlike you."

"I haven't forgotten anything," Jeryd said, causing Lezal to pause. "I'm just...trying to put it behind me. Everything."

"That won't happen, Jer. As long as the guild exists, we are its property. You would do well to keep that in mind from now on. The master is watching you closely."

"Yeah...thanks, Lez."

"Any time, Jer."

He waited for thirty seconds and then walked around the oak, making sure Lezal was really gone. The last thing he needed was an old acquaintance keeping an eye on him like this. He sighed in relief and walked back to Riveth's command tent. Correction: Rial's command tent. Now that he had been promoted to general, he had been given everything that had been his aunt's. He still deferred to her, of course, since she was the elder. And his aunt.

Jeryd still couldn't get over how easily the men had taken to this young (to them, at least) whippersnapper coming in and taking over after the woman they had followed for well over a decade. True, he had saved many lives by taking command in the forest brawl, but Jeryd had expected them to need more than that. Then again, the general had probably issued some secret order that promised plenty of fork-kicking if they didn't accept her nephew as their commanding officer.

It was unlike any army he had ever heard of, and he was curious how they would have fared in the war had they only the numbers.

"Would probably have taken over all of Lumina in a month," he said to himself, chuckling.

He wondered why Lezal hadn't tried to convince him not to follow Riveth's army. He, of all people, would know a doomed mission when he saw one. Did Jeryd really matter that little to him? He wouldn't be surprised if that was true, their last parting had been rather...turbulent.

Not that it mattered. By the end of the week, he would be dead, and all would be well. He had hoped it would happen sooner, had even purposefully gotten himself in harm's way whenever he could, but every time, through some divine harrassment, he didn't die. He hadn't been killed while releasing Sheik from the dungeons. He hadn't drowned in the river. He hadn't been killed at the tavern. He survived the troll ambush (had even helped take one down) and the brawl...he'd frozen during the battle, much to his embarrassment.

He had no idea exactly when he'd started wishing for death, only that he had seen the opportunity for it to happen when Sheik had been arrested for the alleged murder of King Robar. Of course, he would have helped the Sheikah anyway, because fair is fair, but still...

He paused. He'd had several opportunities to get himself killed since meeting Sheik, and he had failed every time. How hard could it possibly be? It was probably because of the Sheikah himself. There was a quality about him that made him want to stay alive, only to be able to spend more time with him.

The thought was creeping up on him, but he refused to acknowledge it. No, no, no...not possible. No! Not going to happen!

Realisation dawned, and Jeryd scowled, kicking at the snow. "Crap," he whispered. That was the last thing he needed.

* * *

"W-w-which i-idiot d-didn't-t t-think of b-b-bringing a t-tent?" Elenwe demanded. A frightful gale had picked up as soon as they had reached the foot of one of the Iron peaks, and it had not let up for a single moment ever since.

"A-all of us?" Link tried, but his voice was nearly lost in the howling wind.

"W-we're all idiots, t-then!"

 _Yes, we're all idiots,_ Sheik thought, feeling like he had been frozen to the bone. It was like being back at the icy cavern back in Hyrule. Times a thousand. The only remotely warm spot on his body was his neck, where he could feel Speil fighting against the seal with all his might. It was nice to know that it was working, at least. _You want out?_ he thought. _Never again._

It had been one of those things forgotten in the excitement of going home, the tent issue. At least a dozen tents had been left behind at the camp, including the twins', but Ard had taken to sleeping in Riveth's the past few days, so it mustn't have occurred to him that they were leaving it behind, while the others were just concerned with trying not to kill each other, leaving no brain power left for thinking about what else they'd need beside food and warm clothes.

At least the wolf skins they'd taken from Agon's men were working. They would have been dead long ago if they hadn't.

"This isn't working!" Kafei shouted from ahead of them. He had taken the lead without asking, but no one protested either. It just seemed...right. That, and Sheik wanted as little to do with him as possible right now, so having him at the front, minding his own business was perfect. "We need to make camp until the wind dies down!"

"With what, genius?" Elenwe demanded. "In case you haven't noticed, we don't have anything to shield us from the wind!"

"We can make something!" the Sheikah tried.

"Like what?"

"I don't bloody know! I can't come up with all the ideas here!"

Sheik let the argument blow by without getting involved. There was no point in it. Instead, he walked past the arguing Sheikah and Gerudo, dragging the spectating Hylian and Human with him. _Aren't we an interesting group?_ he thought as they continued walking, aware that K and E had lost interest in their argument and were trying to catch up to them.

The wind itself wasn't so bad, really. It was the thousands of tiny snow particles that somehow found their way underneath their clothes and froze and soaked them at the same time that was the source of their misery. That, and the fact that every time they took a step, they sank to their knees in the snow. That wasn't particularly fun either. It was downright demoralising, in fact.

And so they walked, continuing their climb upwards, all the while knowing that things would just get worse and worse from there.

Ard had remained silent the entire time, having not spoken a word since his and Sheik's conversation when they had left Riveth and the others. Sheik assumed that he was still processing what had happened and would talk again when he was good and ready...not that he'd blame him if the boy never spoke again. Losing a twin brother and his beloved adoptive mother all in a matter of a few days must have been traumatising, to say the least.

They reached a small ridge and found shelter under a small outcropping. The wind still blew right through them, but at least the snow was held at bay by the terrain.

"This is hopeless," Link complained as he rubbed his hands together in a desperate attempt to regain warmth. Shun had curled up next to him, like a dog...which was quite humorous for a horse. "It was tough enough crossing the mountains the first time, and we were actually less prepared back then!"

"Goddesses, feels like my toes are about to fall off," Kafei said.

"I can't feel my face," Elenwe joined in.

"Ard, are you all right?" Sheik asked. The boy in question had bundled up and looked more like a pile of rags than a person. There was a tiny, almost imperceptible nod, which Sheik took as a yes and continued listening to his other companions complaining. He wanted to join in, but what would that accomplish, other than making their already sour moods worse?

"Sheik, we won't make it like this," Link said quietly. "We have to turn back."

"Impossible," Sheik said, resisting the urge to go along with the idea. "We'll be walking right into a war zone. Admirable as they are, Rial and Riveth won't win against the remnants of Agon's army, and you can bet your stupid hat on the fact that they will be searching the woods for runaways and routed enemies. We don't want to be discovered when they do."

"Then think of something, because we can't go on like this."

"I know."

An hour later, they found something promising. A depression in the cliff wall, vaguely spherical in shape.

 _A cave!_ Sheik thought and began to dig.

Luck was not with them, however. The snow seemed to have filled the cave to the brim, the continual digging between all five of them only yielded more and more of the "white shit", as Kafei dubbed it.

"So that's it, then?" Elenwe said. "This is how it ends? Frozen to death halfway up some godsforsaken mountain the middle of nowhere? I should have stayed with my sisters!"

"Out of the way," Ard suddenly said, standing up and holding out his hand, palm facing the cave entrance. "Stand back!"

Even Shun felt the tingles as Ard closed his eyes, took a deep breath and gasped as a massive jet of flame shot out of his palm and into the pile of snow. It melted in seconds, revealing a cave entrance very much like the trader's post Link and Sheik had stayed in when they crossed into Lumina. Ard continued using the spell until every last hint of snow or wetness was gone.

Sheik was there to catch him the second he collapsed from the exertion, breathing heavily and sweating like he had just run several miles at full speed.

"Ard, that was...amazing!" Elenwe exclaimed, feeling the smooth, polished stone floor with her fingers. "It's not even wet!"

Ard mumbled something, but Sheik couldn't make out what he was saying. He smiled slightly and lowered the boy gently to the floor. That was the third time the taciturn twin had saved their lives. He carefully moved him to the fire pit, where Kafei was rooting through the ashes.

"No wood," he said. "And there's no way I'm going out to find some."

"We don't need a fire," Link said. "The spell warmed up the rock enough to keep us comfortable until morning at least. If the wind dies down, we can go out and get some firewood."

"Sounds like a plan," Sheik said, making sure Ard was comfortable. The boy had fallen asleep, completely exhausted by what had been three minutes of magic use, tops. He brushed some errant, silvery locks of hair from the boy's face, caught himself and smiled. "I guess that's one more we owe you, isn't it?" he said to the sleeping Ard.

They spent the rest of that evening trying to regain warmth, though that was easier said than done, and they ended up sleeping in an unceremonious pile. Somehow Sheik found himself with two sets of arms wrapped around his middle: Ard's and, quite surprisingly, Elenwe's. Link slept next to her and Kafei next to him. It certainly made him warm, but Sheik felt slightly uncomfortable with it.

The next morning was awkward as they untangled from each other and went about their business. Sheik and Link went out to find firewood so they could cook some breakfast while the others remained behind. Ard was still exhausted from the night before, and Kafei and Elenwe promised to look after him, which probably wouldn't be difficult since the boy kept sleeping, not even noticing that his pillow (Sheik) wasn't there anymore.

"This wasn't what I imagined leaving Lumina would be like," Sheik said he sifted through the knee-deep snow, wondering why they even bothered. Any wood they'd find would be soaked through anyway.

"Too crowded?" Link asked, looking calculatingly at a tree trunk, and then at his sword. "Think I could cut this thing down with my sword?"

"Pretty much, yes," Sheik replied. "And no, I wouldn't risk it. I thought you Kokiri loved the forest too much to cut any of it down."

"Not in emergencies," Link said. "Besides, I'm only _half_ Kokiri at the most." He drew his sword, hesitated, then thought better of it and sheathed it again. "And to be honest, I didn't expect this many people either."

Sheik said nothing, straightening up and looking up at the sky. Not a cloud in the sky, a drastic change from last night's storm. It was a brilliant shade of blue, much like Link's, only brighter and...shimmering?

"Link, do you see what I see?" he asked.

"Depends on what you're seeing," Link replied. "Is the sky...wavering?"

"That's what I am seeing," Sheik confirmed.

Every now and then, small patches of the sky would shimmer and waver, much like everything behind a great heat source would. It was almost impossible to see, only noticeable if you were specifically looking for it. Sheik had never seen anything similar.

"Almost looks like...a veil of some kind?" Link tried.

"I don't know," Sheik said. "But I would bet my last rupee on THAT being what's stopping us from contacting the Sages."

"But who put it up?"

"You need to ask?"

"I thought Ard and Erd were the only magic-users in the whole kingdom."

"Apparently they aren't." Sheik hummed. "Perhaps Rehm has hired an outsider. Or maybe he's been hiding someone who can."

"Yeah..."

He looked at the Hero, who seemed deep in thought. "Link, we can't stay."

Link nodded. "I know...but..."

"I know."

"It doesn't seem right."

Sheik was inclined to agree, but...it was too much of a risk, wasn't it? It was better to pull out now, report back to Zelda and see what she decided to do, right? She could rally the support of every one of her allies and take action. It probably wouldn't help Rial or the others, but the King could still be liberated, surely?

"Let's get back to the cave," Sheik said, patting him on the shoulder. "We'll have to eat the dried stuff first and hope that we find another cave with dry firewood in it."

"Yeah..."

The Hero sounded so miserable that Sheik was unable to resist grabbing his chin, turn his head to face him and placing a soft kiss on his lips. Or, it was an attempt at being soft, but the cold and dry air up here was playing havoc on their lips, chapping them. Link smiled into the kiss and wrapped his arms around the Sheikah, pulling him closer. For a minute, the world only contained them, and nothing else could tell them otherwise. When they parted, Sheik felt his stomach plummet slightly. It had been too long since he and the Hero had had some real time to themselves.

"We'll be back, Link," he told the Hero, smiling. "I'm sure of it. Come on, let's go back to—"

"Look!"

A tiny shadow passed in front of the sun, and the accompanying cry made them both smile. Kaiza descended upon them, spiralling downwards. Sheik instinctually extended his arm, letting the falcon perch upon it, wincing when her claws dug slightly into his flesh.

"That was fast," Link said, stroking her feathers. "Wasn't too long ago you sent the message, right?"

"No," Sheik said, already fumbling for the paper tied around her leg. "She must have sensed how urgently Zelda wanted it to be delivered. Poor girl is exhausted."

He removed the letter and allowed Kaiza to perch on Link's arm instead, unfolding it. The princess' usually elegant and beautiful handwriting was marred, the strokes hasty and uneven. She had either been writing it in a great hurry...or in a foul mood.

**Sheik,**

**I have no words for the anger I am feeling right now. The things you described that have happened in Lumina are simply unforgiveable. I am happy that you and Link were able to escape captivity and that you have found allies in the few remaining loyalists there. I have informed General Mirn of what is happening in his homelands, and he is mustering his forces as I am writing this...and so am I.**

Sheik paused. The princess was mobilising her forces already?

**I have conferred with the Sages about the situation, and while I am sure you have already reached the same conclusion, I must reveal that the legends of the Enlightened One are true. If he is freed from his prison, only disaster can result from it. That is why I am going to accompany the general to Lumina. I do not yet know if war is going to be a fact, but I am prepared for it. We cannot allow another war with the Goddesses to commence. They almost lost the last one, and Rauru fears that they will not respond this time.**

**Sheik, you and Link have already been through so much, and I know that I, as your friend, have no right to ask any more of you. However, if you are up to it, there are some things that would ease our invasion of Lumina considerably. Send Kaiza back with an affirmative reply, and I shall send you further instructions. If you are not, then simply send Kaiza back and get out of Lumina as fast as you can. Take care, little brother.**

**Love, Zelda.**

"What is it?" Link asked, seeing the look on his lover's face. "Sheik, talk to me."

"We can't leave," Sheik said simply. He handed Link the letter and began to walk towards the cave. "I'll tell the others."

The Hero caught up to him a minute later, wincing as Kaiza kept digging her claws into his shoulder in order not to fall off.

"She didn't say we HAD to stay, Sheik," he said. "Only that we could!"

"True, but the reason we have to stay isn't because of what she asked, but because she's coming here."

"What?"

"Think, Link!" Sheik exclaimed, whirling around to face him. "Think about that blasted airship! Do you really think an army can stand a chance against it when they have nothing with which to hit it back? Remember what happened to Riveth's army? That's the exact same thing that's going to happen to Mirn and Zelda!"

Link's eyes widened as realisation dawned upon him. "I didn't think of that," he muttered.

"Good thing I did, then," Sheik said. "That's why we can't leave. Not before we've done something about _The Chimera_ , anyway."

"But what can we do?" Link asked.

"I don't know yet," Sheik admitted, "but I have some ideas."

"What are they?"

"I'd rather not say until I've refined them some more."

As they walked back to the cave, Sheik caught Link smiling a little to himself, which made him raise an eyebrow in confusion.

"What are you smiling about?" he asked. "You look positively giddy."

"I've missed this," Link said. "You being all mysterious and refusing to reveal your plans, which will probably spell doom for our enemies."

"And I've missed you being optimistic to the point of foolishness," Sheik said, smiling a little himself. _It can't possibly be healthy that I feel nostalgic because of this,_ he thought.

* * *

The scout gave a little groan as a knife sank into his back and was lowered carefully to the ground. Rial watched from a distance and gave his man a nod of approval, after which he signalled for the small company of soldiers to advance. They had been sneaking through the perimeter of Agon's camp for the past hour so, eliminating guards and scouts as they went, all the while setting up ambush points and kill zones should they be discovered and forced to retreat quickly.

His aunt hadn't liked the idea of him going in without the support of the rest of the men, but he rationalised it by saying he needed to supervise the establishment of the ambush points himself. He said he liked a hands-on approach. The truth was related to that, but with the added fact that he was terrified of being in command, at least like this.

Captain of the Royal Guard was a title that required him to write up guard schedules and knowing the palace in and out. It had never prepared him for duty out in the field, much less waging a guerrilla war on the Royal Army. It was ridiculous! How could she expect him to be able to control an army, even as reduced as it was? The woman was getting funny in her old age, that was the only explanation for it, he decided.

He shook his head. This was no time to be thinking about this. He was there, and he was damn well going to finish the job, even if all it accomplished was getting them all killed. He had a feeling that's what they all were expecting anyway, which gave him a small measure of comfort, at least. If they were going to die, it wasn't going to come as a surprise to anyone, least of all themselves!

...war did funny things to the mind.

"General, we're within half a kilometre of the camp," one the scouts said. "We've cleared a path from the rest of the men to here. We are ready to move in on your command."

"Right, send someone back to Riveth and inform her that we are ready to receive her and the others. Tell them to move quiet as mice, though, we don't want anyone hearing or seeing us until we're ready to strike."

"Yes, sir."

"You and you, you're with me," he said, pointing out two men. "We're gonna take a closer look at what Agon's men are doing."

It was impossible for them not to know that their general had lost the battle. It had been days since the battle, _someone_ must have suspected that the bastard was dead or at the very least captured...or maybe running for his life through the woods...being chased by wolves. Now _that_ was a pleasant mental image. He grinned before remembering where he was and what he was doing.

Anyway, the point of his train of thought was that the remnants of Agon's army had to be prepared for an attack. Or at least anticipating one.

"Just over this ridge," one of the scouts said.

They were following the same road they had retreated on back to the battlefield, only this time they were walking along the cliffs on either side of it. Every now and then they saw snow-filled depressions in the ground that could only have been the craters from the airship's cannon fire.

He hoped they had cleaned up the bodies, at least. SOME decency could be showed, after all.

They saw the banners and flags first, waving in the cold morning breeze. They weaved their way among the trees until they reached the top of the cliffs overlooking the camp, silencing a few more guards along the way. The two scouts Rial had brought along were expert marksmen, and the enemy guards never knew what hit them.

They crawled to the edge, ignoring the fact that their clothes were soaking through because of the snow. Rial was not surprised to see the camp in full activity, setting up defences and building barricades for cavalry. He was, however, surprised by something else.

"They're facing the wrong way," he muttered.

The spiked barricades and shield walls were facing south, the same direction from which they themselves had come. In fact, they weren't paying attention to the road leading east at all. Rial could have taken his army and walked right into the middle of their camp without them noticing.

"We don't have any forces in the south," a scout said. "Do we, general?"

"No," Rial answered. "We're preparing all we've got in the woods."

" _Something's_ got them spooked, though," the other scout said. "Look, they're even arming their wounded."

They watched as several bandaged and limping soldiers were pulled out of the sick tent and armed with swords and axes. One of them even had their weapon tied to their hand.

"Hm, means they're desperate," Rial muttered. "Has any of ours reported anything unusual?"

"No, sir, but we didnt't dispatch anyone in that direction either."

Rial thought for a few minutes, before nodding to himself. "Right, it doesn't really matter, does it? Any enemy of Agon's men is a friend of ours, right?"

"That's a...very simplified way of looking at it, sir," the first scout dared to say.

"In a world as complicated and difficult to comprehend as ours, I like to simplify it as much as I possibly can," Rial replied with a wink. "War is about as basic as you can get. As long as the guys who are punching your enemies don't punch you as well it's all good, and if-"

He didn't get a chance to finish the sentence, as the activity in the camp suddenly sped up, and several men on horseback rode through the breach in the trees, waving their weapons around and shouting warnings and blowing their horns. Everyone hurried to the barricades, getting into formation. The men on horseback quickly retreated behind the lines, still shouting warnings.

"Guess we're about to see who our mystery guests are," scout number two said.

The first charge was by cavalry, and Rial understood why they had gone as far as erecting spiked barricades. They surged through the trees and thundered across the snow, kicking up a veritable snowstorm in their wake. Their armour shone in the sunlight, the tips of spears lowering towards their foes.

"Is that...?" a scout asked.

"That's the emblem of the House of Reimos," Rial said. "What are they doing here?"

"All due respect, sir, does it matter? As long as they are attacking the traitors?"

"You're absolutely right," he said and crawled away from the edge. "Let's get back to the others. Bugger stealth and subterfuge, let's attack with full strength!"

* * *

**Soul Mates  
Chapter 43**

* * *

Agon's men had never seen the sudden attack coming. Confident in their own position and numbers, they had only bothered sending scouts in the direction of Riveth's army. These scouts, most of whom had barely seen any sort of combat, were silently and effectively eliminated by their far more experienced counterparts under Riveth's command. The remainder of Agon's army had never even _imagined_ that someone could attack them from behind. After all, they _were_ the Royal Army. Who would dare to do such a thing?

And that was why the combined armies of Baroness Denal, Lord Reimos and countless other nobles, minor and major, were able to swiftly and effectively sneak up on the Royal Army, ride down their floundering defences and quickly create chaos and mayhem on a large scale within the camp. The initial line of spearmen, who had barely been able to gather into formation, were crushed beneath the hooves of the charging horses, the archers were cut down before they were even able to string their bows and swordsmen could barely get their swords out of their sheaths before suddenly finding themselves on the ground, bleeding out.

When Rial and his forces attacked from the rear, it was all over. Agon's men had been reduced by half in numbers before they were able to regroup and form an effective defensive perimeter, though this left their flanks and rear vulnerable. Rial had ordered a silent charge, and the first wave had been about ten feet away from their enemies when they had been noticed, by which time it was too late to do anything about it. Rial's men got about five ranks deep before they were stopped.

To their loyalty's credit, Agon's men did not let the fact that they were completely surrounded on all sides deter them from fighting. In fact, it only made them fight _harder_ , desperate to prove their worth to their commander. It never occurred to them that Agon was dead and that his head was currently adorning the top of a spear carried by one of Rial's standard-bearers. Or maybe they did, and they fought with anger rather than loyalty.

But passion, no matter the source or nature, means little when one is outnumbered and has no tactical advantages, and little by little, their numbers began to dwindle. It was impossible to defend from all sides, and once archers on both sides began to fire from the vantage points on the cliffs, raining death upon them, many realised that there was no point in continuing. However, those who still saw an opportunity for victory could not accept this, and cut down their own, "cowardly" comrades. However, even they were killed in the end, and by the time the rest of them decided to surrender, there were less than fifty of the original six-hundred left. They were rounded up and put under guard.

Rial was more or less happy with the results. He and Riveth were listening to a report from one of his men when the field commanders of the nobles' forces approached him, spreading their arms in a peaceful manner, all the while showing that they were unarmed.

"General Riveth," the commander bearing the emblem of House Denal on his spaulders said. "I am Captain Ryger, commander of the Baroness Denal's guardsmen. I am honoured to finally meet an illustrious and brilliant strategist such as yourself." He bowed and extended a hand, which Riveth took.

"Pleased to make your acquaintance, captain," she said, "and I must say that you came at the nick of time. We were planning a rather suicidal charge just now, but you more than evened out the odds for us. But I'm afraid you are greeting the wrong person. I am just Drena Riveth now. I gave up my commission in order to appoint someone far more suitable for the rank than I." She motioned towards Rial. "Please, let me introduce to you General Rial Vortan, our commanding officer."

"General Vortan," Ryger said, shaking Rial's hand and saluting. "It is an honour to meet you as well."

"Is it?" Rial asked.

"Indeed, sir," Ryger replied. "It is not every day one meets a heroic survivor of a cowardly massacre. The King was not wrong to place his trust in your survival."

"The King?" Rial exclaimed. "You have spoken with him?"

"Not personally, sir," Ryger said, shaking his head. "But he spoke to the nobles of Lumina, sir. It was he who ordered the mustering of this army, in fact. His first orders were to come here and help you out."

"Is he with you?" Rial demanded, feeling his heart galloping. If Victor was here, then everything would be just fine, and-

"I'm afraid not, sir," Ryger said sadly. "Rehm has had him declared mentally unstable and has more or less imprisoned him in his own castle. It is an outrage, but the people seem to be more interested in following the councillor than their own monarch."

"Mentally unstable..." Rial muttered, feeling his anger with Rehm growing tenfold. Was there anything the old man was not willing to stoop to? "That is simply not true," he said.

"We agree," Ryger replied. "And we would have taken the city immediately and freed him if it were possible, however..."

"However?" Riveth asked.

"Rehm has apparently realised what is happening, for he has gathered a large part of the Royal Army around the capital and turned it into a fortress. It's impossible to get in and out without passing through dozens of checkpoints and such. We are heavily outnumbered too."

"How many men do you have, Captain?" Riveth asked.

"Currently we number two thousand, ma'am," Ryger answered. "We are still waiting for about a dozen more houses to join us, however, and we estimate to have about ten thousand strong by the time they have arrived. We are also awaiting the Bringers of Justice, commanded by Sir Iteos-"

"Iteos?" Rial said, raising an eyebrow. " _The_ Sir Iteos? The one who claims to have slept with every man and woman from here to Hyrule? _He_ is joining us?" He had no affection for the man portrayed in the stories that were so popular in taverns all over the kingdom. If Iteos truly acted and did as the man in the stories did, Rial doubted he'd be of any use.

"It would appear so, sir. The King has made a deal with him, and he and his five-hundred men are marching to join us as we speak."

"I'll believe that when I see it," Riveth said, sharing her nephew's disdain for the lecherous knight in the stories. "Though perhaps he is more...discreet in real life?"

"I would not count on it, ma'am," Ryger said in a deadpan. "There was a lot of...swagger, apparently."

 _Victor must be desperate in order to have made a deal with that man,_ Rial thought. _Have to hurry!_

"General," Ryger suddenly said, bringing Rial out of his thoughts. "The Baroness would like to meet you."

"I did not think she was here," Rial said. "Isn't it risky to leave the estates now? If Rehm finds out she has turned against him-"

"After the death of her only son, the Baroness finds herself rather unwilling to sit tight and play nice, sir," Ryger said. "Especially since it was the three conspirators who were behind it. No, she is here, and she is waiting." The last part was said with some urgency, as if the woman herself was standing behind him with a horsewhip.

"Very well, take us to her," Rial said, looking to Riveth for confirmation that he was doing the right thing. Her subtle nod told him that he was indeed doing so.

* * *

"You know, some people would say this is going to be awkward," Kafei said as they trudged through the knee-deep snow, following the same path they'd taken up the mountain. "Coming back after saying goodbye in such a fashion."

Sheik gritted his teeth and ignored his cousin. It was bad enough that they were travelling together to begin with, but when he had insisted on following them back to Rial and the others, he felt his temper beginning to rise again. It didn't help that his boots were full of snow and his feet were soaked, chilling him.

"No one forced you to come," Elenwe said from behind them, walking alongside Ard. "You could have crossed the border by yourself—in fact, that would probably have been much easier than all of us trying at once." The hostility she had directed at the eldest Sheikah in the past few days was starting to cool down now, and her voice had remained neutral all morning. Perhaps she was cooling down?

"And leave all my friends alone in a war-torn kingdom? Thou must be joking," Kafei said.

"Friends, huh? Interesting choice of words..."

"All right, enough you two," Link said from the front of the column, intervening before things turned nasty. "If he wants to come along, he can come along. I think we'll be very happy to have his sword when things go sour."

"You sound certain about things going badly, Hero," Kafei pointed out.

"I'm just speaking from experience," Link replied. "Sheik and me seem to have the worst luck all the time. Right, Sheik?"

"Right, right," Sheik said, not really paying attention to what Link was saying. His neck was throbbing again, a sign that Speil was trying to get his attention. For what reason only the Goddesses knew. And hopefully, Sheik would never find out. Presumably the shadow simply wanted to tell more lies and threaten him, like he always did. It was becoming predictable and, to Sheik's surprise, boring. It was as if Speil only had two modes of operation: Lying, Deceitful Bugger and Utter Arsehole. Sometimes he liked to blend the two.

And yet...he was sort of curious about what Speil was so anxious to tell him. The seal had pained him all day yesterday and the whole night. It was only during the early morning hours that he'd been granted a reprieve, and now it was beginning all over again. Sure, Speil was not known for his patience, but for some reason Sheik could imagine him standing on that beach, jumping up and down in anger while trying to get his attention.

 _Not that I know how to listen to him to begin with,_ Sheik told himself. _Ard told me to just listen, but it's not working._

 _And that's a good thing,_ he reminded himself a few seconds later.

He snapped out of his reverie, realising that he was once again falling for the same old trap Speil always set for him by using the most powerful bait—his curiosity. After so much pain, death and suffering, it was so infuriating to realise that the shadow still had so much influence over him. For Goddesses' sake, Speil had _killed_ him, surely that would be enough to kill the fascination forever? But no, it wasn't.

It made him feel guilty, most of all because of Link. He couldn't imagine how the Hero must have felt when he realised what had been going on between his lover and his shadow. It must have been ten times worse when it was revealed that Speil had never even died to begin with, but was still infesting Sheik like a disease, a cancer that was impossible to remove. It was amazing to see Link simply shrug it off like he did.

_Or does he? For all I know, he could be bottling it all up inside, concealing his resentment out of...what? Love? Loyalty? Why does he even bother with me anymore?_

Once again he was snapped out of his thoughts, but this time by a hand that fell heavily on his shoulder, Elenwe's face grinning toothily at him.

"Arrr, I see by yer frown that yer thoughts be gloomy like a landlubber who's never been to tha sea, matey!" she exclaimed in a horrendous accent. "What be troublin' ye?"

Sheik stared at her, unable to process what had just come out of the Gerudo's mouth. "W-why are you speaking like a pirate?" he finally asked, somewhat hesitantly.

"I used to be one, remember?" she said, still grinning. "We never really spoke like that, though. My mother had quite a posh accent, as I recall. It was always amusing to see her stand at the helm and issue orders, swearing like only sailors can while chewing on consonants the same way a high-born noble does." She blinked. "And there you go again, deflecting my questions and hoping I'll forget my initial point, which is: what's bothering you?"

Sheik noticed that Link was doing his utmost to appear uninterested or ignorant of the conversation behind him, but the miniscule twitching of his ears told Sheik that he was listening intently. Figures that the Hero was concerned, almost to the point of irritation. Why couldn't the Hero worry about _himself_ for once? Sheik sighed.

"I'm just thinking about what's going to happen when the princess arrives," he lied. "War is an unavoidable fact, I guess."

"I think she's prepared for it," Elenwe said kindly. "She's bringing an army of her own, after all."

"Yes, but...I'm still worried. She has been fighting since she was eleven years old, her kingdom snatched from her by a traitor. The war hasn't even been over for a year, and now she's throwing herself into another...and she doesn't even have a personal stake in it."

"Don't worry, Sheik," Link piped up, craning his head around to look at them. "You know she wouldn't do anything stupid. At least, not without planning it thoroughly. She won't be caught by surprise either, she's got the eyes of an eagle and the ears of a—gah!"

The rest of the Hero's words were lost as he stumbled headfirst into a pile of snow, arms flailing wildly.

Sheik heard three people snickering behind him, and he couldn't help but chuckle slightly himself. The sight of the Hero of Time battling the great evil known as snow was undeniably hilarious. He eventually took pity upon Link and pulled him out, trying to brush most of the offending frozen precipitation out of his neck and wherever else it had invaded his clothes.

"Sheik?" Link said as he emptied his boots, much to the amusement of the others. "I've come to a conclusion."

"And that is?" Sheik asked.

"I think I said it once before, in the Ice Cave, but I'll say it again: I hate snow."

* * *

Any hopes Rial had of having a unified force to fight back Rehm with were quickly squashed the second the first strategic meeting between the nobles began. It turned out that most of the heads of house were seeing an unprecedented opportunity for personal gain in the war, and they seemed to believe that whoever led the "rebels" to victory was going to receive ample rewards by the King...perhaps in the form of lands, money or perhaps a higher title. The temptation seemed too great, it seemed, and it didn't take long for the meeting to dissolve into a huge argument about who was to take up the mantle of leadership...after exchanging the customary pleasantries, of course.

Rial and Riveth were quickly shouldered to the side by even the most minor of nobles, and they observed the insanity from afar, both wondering how it had come to this. The future had seemed so bright now that they had allies, and now everything had turned to shit in the span of about ten minutes. Lord Reimos was, of course, the loudest contender for the role, his great, bellowing voice deafening all who came too near. It was like watching a circus, all the little people squabbling over scraps at the table. Scraps that, for all intents and purposes, didn't even exist yet.

However, Baroness Denal didn't seem interested in the power struggle, watching from the other end of the room, shaking her head in exasperation. She caught Rial's gaze, shook her head again and began to make her way towards them.

"Ridiculous, isn't it?" she asked as he came closer. She was dressed in modest travel clothing, the only thing betraying her noble lineage being her house's emblem on the chain around her neck. "It doesn't matter how rich they already are; if the good lords and ladies sense the potential for bounty...hah, all pretence goes out the window."

"Nothing's changed since I wasn't considered a traitor, then," Riveth said, seemingly entertained by the arguing. "Everyone's out for themselves."

"I'm afraid so," Denal agreed, sighing. "This isn't what I imagined when I rode out with my men..."

"Wasn't what I imagined when you arrived either," Rial added. "I guess hoping for something to go well for once was a pointless exercise...I'm going out for some fresh air. Come get me if they ever reach some sort of decision."

"Probably not happening any time soon, nephew."

"More air for me, then."

He wandered outside and headed for the outskirts of the camp. There were too many people and horses around in the inner parts for a man to think straight. He came to the crossroad that led back into Freyborough and stopped there to stare at the road they had travelled on twice; once in defeat and once in triumph. It was quieter here. Low voices and sounds still drifted from the camp but not in the same, deafening way. He took a deep breath and released it. They had been _so_ close to finally gaining some momentum, and then it had all come to a jarring halt. It was as if the gods or goddesses or whatever was conspiring against them.

"Problem, general?" asked a voice, causing Rial to jump and draw his sword. He dropped it immediately upon seeing who it was. Jeryd shrugged apologetically as he came around the trunk of a tree, a lit cigarette clutched between his fingers. "I apologise, I did not mean to give you a start." His clerk's robes were drenched in blood. Rial was not surprised. He had caught a glimpse of the younger man during the battle, and he had almost been frightened by the sight of maniacally grinning Jeryd stabbing and cutting people left and right. It was too obvious that the man was an assassin, or had at least been trained by them.

"No apologies needed," Rial said, shrugging it off as if it was nothing. "I should have realised you were there to begin with." He looked at the cigarette. "I did not know you indulged..."

Jeryd blinked and looked at the cigarette before shrugging again. "I usually don't, but I feel that what happened earlier today provided...extenuating circumstances." He took a deep drag, coughing slightly as the acrid smoke left his lungs. "I feel like I should ask again. Is there a problem, general?"

"No, no, just needed fresh air, away from politics." Rial crossed his arms, feeling unnerved. He had never trusted the ex-clerk fully, even though he had been following them ever since Angen's inn was burned down and had even participated in taking down a huge troll, but... He supposed it was his natural dislike of assassins in general.

"They're still arguing about who should be leading the army, then?" Jeryd asked.

"Correct."

"Ah..." Another drag from the cigarette. "You'd think they'd learn at some point, that there are far more important things at stake than their status."

"Yeah, but they never do," Rial concurred. There was an awkward pause in the conversation. "Can I ask you something?"

"Go ahead."

"Why didn't you go with the Sheikah and the others? I'm pretty sure anywhere is better to be than here right now, and your friends might have pulled some strings and gotten you a job in Hyrule—"

"I'm sure they would have, but I don't want it," Jeryd replied, dropping the butt of the cigarette into the snow and stomped on it. "My place is here in Lumina, and I intend to fight tooth and nail for my King."

The slight irony in the clerk's voice told Rial that it was only a half-truth he'd been told, but he accepted it anyway, far too tired to start an interrogation of the younger man. It would have to do for now.

"Besides," Jeryd continued, "I am excited to see how all this turns out, and I'd rather see it with my own eyes than hear it second-hand from unreliable witnesses."

"You're an assassin," Rial simply stated, his voice betraying neither like nor dislike. "You must have some hidden agenda." He briefly wondered what had happened to his decision not to ask from a minute ago, but mentally shrugged, figuring that it was just as well to get it out of the way now rather than face an unpleasant surprise later. There was also a niggling feeling in the back of his head that Jeryd was acting differently than he usually did. He seemed much more dour and serious.

"None for now," Jeryd replied, smiling a little, taking another drag from the cigarette. "Or, I do, but it only concerns and affects me, and no one else. Spiritual growth, I suppose you could call it. Or stunting, I haven't fully decided yet."

"I came out for fresh air and to avoid a headache, and yet you're giving me one anyway," Rial said with a sigh. "Are all assassins so difficult to talk to?"

"Comes with the job, I think," Jeryd replied. "Sheik and Kafei are very much the same, and—"he paused, eyes darting to the road. They narrowed, and his entire body tensed as the cigarette dropped from his fingers. "Someone's coming," he said.

"I can't hear anything," Rial said, tensing up as well. He had left his armour in the command tent, a decision he regretted. "We didn't leave anyone alive back there..."

"But I do," Jeryd said. "Footsteps. They're trying to be quiet." A few seconds passed, and he shook his head. "They're not very good at it."

"Where are they?" Rial asked, crouching down, intending to present as small a target as possible to the possible assailants.

"Not far," Jeryd said. After another few seconds, a grimace came to his face and he relaxed. "No need to worry, general," he said, the grimace disappearing as soon as it had appeared. "They're not hostile."

"How do you know?"

"Because they're arguing amongst themselves."

"That hardly indicates whose side they're on."

Jeryd didn't say anything after that, only nodding at the bend in the road from which faint voices could now be heard. It took Rial a few minutes to start picking up the snippets of conversation, but the second he realised who the newcomers were, he couldn't help but sigh. He wasn't sure how many more surprises he could take today.

The group of ragtag travellers who had left them just the night before rounded the bend. Sheik was walking in front and pointedly ignoring the argument Link and Elenwe were having just behind him about the virtues and drawbacks of bows versus crossbows. Kafei and Ard were walking quietly next to each other, neither paying much attention to the others, both seemingly lost in their thoughts.

"I thought they were trying to get _away_ from the fighting," Rial said. Jeryd didn't answer, but Rial was sure he heard a muttered curse under the ex-clerk's breath. He raised a hand and waved at the group. Sheik was the first to notice and raised a hand in greeting, which the others noticed as well. "Well, this is a...surprise," Rial said as they approached them. "Thought you'd be halfway up the mountains by now."

"We didn't even make it to the foot of them," Sheik said and stopped a short distance away, looking a bit awkward. "There's been a—"

"Whoa, who are all those guys?" Link asked, looking towards the camp. "Did you win the battle?"

"Considering that I'm still alive, I would wager so, yes," Rial said, smiling. "Was probably the cleanest victory so far, even."

"Many of the noble houses of Lumina were gathered by the King and dispatched to help," Jeryd piped up, walking up to the group and smiling broadly. "I'm afraid you're late to the party, though." Rial noticed the sudden change from the serious young man he had been minutes before to the happy one standing next to him.

"Just as well, really," Elenwe said. "Wasn't in the mood for fighting tonight anyway."

"And yet you're here," Rial pointed out. "Not that I'm not happy to see you again, naturally, but...why?"

"Like I was saying before I was interrupted," Sheik said, shooting Link a small glare, to which the Hero merely grinned embarrassedly, "there has been a development that you will be very much interested in, I believe." He pulled out a piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to Rial, who now noticed that there was a falcon circling above them, barely visible in the moonlight. He wasn't aware falcons flew at night. He looked at the paper which turned out to be a letter from none other than Princess Zelda of Hyrule herself.

"This...is all genuine?" he asked and looked at Sheik.

"The princess has never been one for deceit," Sheik said. "She is indeed on her way, and with your General Mirn in tow."

It was too good to be true, it had to be. First they receive unexpected help from the nobles, and now Mirn was on his way back with his army as well as a contingent of soldiers from Hyrule? There had to be a catch, there just had to be.

"This is excellent news," Rial said as Jeryd took the letter from his unresisting hands and read it. "But...why? I mean, the princess has no personal stake in this war, surely?"

"Lumina and Hyrule are allies, it is only natural for her to come to your aid," Sheik said. "Besides, I am given to understand that her father and the late King Robar were close friends before the war with Ganondorf started."

"Also, she'll want to come here and make sure Sheik's okay," Link added, grinning. "He's a like a brother to her, after all."

"She's coming to check up on you too, Hero," Sheik said.

"But, I don't understand...why did you return?" Rial asked. "Surely it wasn't just to give me this letter?"

"Not really, no," Sheik said and whistled loudly. The falcon circling above them cried out and dive-bombed towards Sheik, who simply held out his arm. The falcon showed no signs of slowing down until it spread its wings just above the Sheikah, landing heavily on his arm. "I could have had Kaiza here deliver it to you, but..."

"But?"

"I...we, think that unless something is done about that airship, your war will still end in failure, no matter how many men you have at your disposal."

"So we came back," Link said.

"And we're going to take the ship down," Elenwe added.

Kafei looked between his companions. "Period," he finished.

Ard gave a silent nod.

"What the hell did I just witness?" Jeryd muttered.

Rial looked between them. "Take down _The Chimera_? I would like nothing more than for that to happen, but how?"

"That's what we have to figure out," Sheik said. "But for now, can we go somewhere warm? Link took a nasty spill in the snow earlier and he needs dry clothes."

Rial hadn't even noticed that the Hero of was shivering slightly before now. He hid it quite well. "Of course," he said. "Follow me; I'm sure we can find you a tent."

"Some food would be nice too," Elenwe piped up.

They took Shun to the stables on the way, making sure she was well taken care of before heading through the small tent city that had been erected after the battle. It was a sea of different flags, emblems and colours, the soldiers and men-at-arms all wearing different types of armour (some didn't wear any protection at all) and armed with a million types of weapons and equipment. It was a wonder that anyone could keep tabs on it all, much less make order out of the inevitable chaos that resulted from such gatherings. The fact that none of the houses were at each other's throats was a miracle as well, considering that the leaders were all political rivals. Well, the leaders didn't care much for each other, of course, but the men and women under their command did not seem to have a problem fraternising.

Rial found them a mostly empty tent, the only other occupants being a pair of scouts from Riveth's original army. They saluted upon their entering, and gladly accepted sharing their tent with the group. It could house up to fifteen people, so space was no problem at all. No one said it, but it was obvious that the other members of the scouts' team had been killed, either during that day's battle or the ones before. They seemed quite glad to have some company again.

"Right, I suppose I should go inform the others of the coming reinforcements," Rial said, dreading having to walk into the command tent again. "And of your plan..."

"You don't sound happy about it," Elenwe said. "Usual nob behaviour?"

"It's almost funny how predictable it is," Rial said before leaving, letter tucked into his shirt pocket. He noticed that Ard was following him. "Coming to see Drena?" he asked.

"Yes," Ard replied.

"She won't be happy about you coming back, you know," Rial said. "She wanted you to be safe."

"I know." Ard looked up at him, eyes glinting. "I'm fighting, and there's nothing she can do to stop me."

Rial nodded at that, knowing that the discussion was over. He wondered how his aunt would react to the sudden attitude change. And he secretly wondered where the attitude had come from.

The political climate in the command tent had grown frigid by the time they entered. There was no loud arguing now, only quiet muttering and silent glares thrown across the table. Riveth didn't notice Ard, giving Rial a helpless shrug.

"No one wants to defer to one another," she explained. "They all see it as a sign of submission to be led by a rival lord or lady. It's like they don't want to...to...to..." she trailed off, having spotted Ard standing slightly behind him. "What the hell are you doing here?" she exclaimed in a booming voice, startling the nobs. "I thought I told you to go with Sheik and the others!"

"I did," Ard said simply.

"He really did," Rial said, backing him up.

"Then why is he back?" Riveth asked, her lowering her voice. The nobs went back to their standstill.

"Well, they _all_ came back," Rial answered. "And they brought this." He gave her the letter, and her eyes widened as she read it. "You know what this means?" he asked her after she'd finished.

"It means that we actually a have a chance to win this," Riveth said quietly. "Well, if we can whip this lot into shape, that is," she added, looking at the nobs, who were taking an interesting in their conversation again.

"Let's see, then," Rial said, marching up the table, elbowing aside those who didn't move. "Lords and ladies, I bring good news!" he announced, waving Zelda's letter for all to see. "I have just received a secret communiqué from a reliable source that General Mirn is on his way back from Hyrule, marching double-time to take up the fight against Rehm and Marlotta!" The letter was passed around, an excited murmur growing among the nobles. "And not only that," he continued, "it appears that the princess of Hyrule has also taken an interest in our struggle and is travelling with him, accompanied by an entire battalion of experienced veterans from the war with Ganondorf!"

"This is addressed to someone named 'Sheik'", someone in the crowd said. "Who is that?"

"T-that is the person responsible for the murder of the old King!" Reimos sputtered. "How did you come by this?"

"He gave it to me willingly when he entered the camp," Rial said. "But his responsibility for Robar's murder is yet another lie concocted by Rehm. The good Earl of Hyrule was framed for a crime he did not commit and he was lucky to escape the castle dungeons with his life, after which he and his companions saved mine more than once, so I will not have one bad word spoken of him in this room!" He said the last part with a steely edge to his voice, asserting himself. "Anyway, that is not the important thing to discuss at the moment. I would like to propose that when they arrive, we turn over control of the army to General Mirn, since he has more experience than any of us combined."

"I have no problems with that," Reimos said, nodding. "Mirn is a just man, perfect for the role." Many voiced their agreement with this statement. "However, there is still the matter of who will lead until that time arrives."

"I nominate General Vortan," Riveth said without hesitation.

"I nominate myself," Reimos said.

"I support Lord Bail," someone said.

By the end, everyone supported no one but themselves, and the argument erupted once more. Rial tried to disengage, but found himself trapped among the pushing and shouting bodies of nobles. He found himself pressed up against the table. A knife lay on top of the map of Lumina, just underneath the capital, as if that was the first target. He felt his anger rising, unable to believe how selfish and bloody _stupid_ these people could be. With a bellow of anger, he grabbed the knife and rammed its blade into the table, skewering the map. The room fell silent, surprised by the man they had written off as a nobody.

"Enough!" he exclaimed, glaring at them. "Civil war has broken out, our King is being held hostage in his own castle by a traitor! We are all that stands between the usurpers and complete domination of our lands and the only thing you care about is who gets the prestige of leadership! You all disgust me!"

"You are speaking out of turn, captain—"Reimos began, but Rial cut him off.

"General! I am a general and you will address me as such!" He looked at them with contempt. "You all look down on me because I am not of noble birth. Well, I look down on you for trying to take control of a situation with which you have no experience."

"How dare you?" some pissant of a lady exclaimed.

Rial ignored her. "None of you know anything about warfare! Sure, you know how to lead men in nice formations in order to impress each other in parades, but how many of you have spent time in the mud and dirt among your soldiers? Which of you would know what to do if you were outnumbered and outgunned? Do any of you even know _how_ to fight?"

The room was deathly silent, everyone shocked at being spoken to with such audacity. It was eventually broken by Riveth's careful cough as she sidled up to her nephew, clapping his shoulder.

"I believe what the good general is trying to say is that while you have all done very well in leading your soldiers to this place and defeating the remnants of Agon's army in a surprise attack, we need a leader trained in the military arts to actually get something done from here on out. As much as I respect you all for the sacrifices you have made just by coming here, I don't believe any of you are prepared for the responsibility or stress of leading a large army like this. The general, however, is."

"And I am inclined to agree," Baroness Denal said. She looked at them all, and said, "Riveth has regaled me with his exploits since the massacre at the castle, and I am impressed with the things he accomplished considering his limited resources. I cannot even imagine what he would be capable of with all of our forces combined under his command."

"I'm not saying you should turn over your men to him on a whim," Riveth said, clapping Rial's shoulder once again. "But give him a chance, and I'm sure you will realise that he is the right man for the job."

* * *

The meeting disbanded, everyone agreeing to mull the decision over and reconvene the next day. Riveth, Rial and Ard stayed in the command tent. The ex-general looking at Ard with barely contained joy and disapproval, which was an interesting mix.

"I sent you away so you could be safe," she said. "So you wouldn't share your brother's fate."

"I didn't want to go," Ard said, pulling his mask down. "I wanted to stay and fight."

"No, it's too dangerous," she said, coughing again. Was she developing a cold?

"That's your argument, 'it's too dangerous'?" Ard asked. "Hardly a convincing one."

"Since when you did you talk so much?"

"I've always talked this much to you. Erd just talked a lot more." The young warlock looked at his feet. "You're asking...no, _telling_ me to walk away from the fight that killed my brother. How can you do that, when I can be of so much help?"

"Because...I can't lose both Erd _and_ you," Riveth said, sinking into her chair. "It's bad enough that I can't convince my nephew to leave this sinking ship of a kingdom, but... I never had children of my own, but I always considered you and your brother as...well...mine..." What little fight she had left in her seemed to seep out, and she raised her hands in defeat.

Rial quietly left the tent, realising he was intruding on a very private moment. He hadn't expected Ard to speak this much, or use that tone. Was he trying to make up for his brother's absence? Erd had been a never-ending torrent of words once he got going.

Ard gave her a small smile and kneeled in front of her. "We always considered you the family we were denied by our blood relatives," he said. "Erd wouldn't leave you behind, nor will I."

Riveth smiled and drew the boy into a tight hug. "Damn you and those green eyes of yours, boy...fine, you can stay, but if I tell you to stay out of danger, you will damn well do as I say, understand?"

"Understood...Mother."

* * *

The next day was extremely busy. Word had been sent that _The Chimera_ was on its way back north, presumably on patrol. It was assumed that the enemy in the south had not yet heard of Agon's defeat, and that gave them the element of surprise, which they were taking advantage of to the fullest.

The nobs had yet to give their answer as to whom they would choose to lead the army, but they seemed to defer to Rial for the moment, possibly because he knew how to evade the airship...or possibly because they had simply realised he was the best choice. Either way, Rial found himself busy organising the march to the west.

It was the only way they could go, he reasoned. North and east were dead ends, the latter would only lead them back to the place in Freyborough where they had brawled, and north would only take them back to Æsir fortress, a place most would consider a rather suicidal choice for a defensive position. South would put them right in the path of the airship and ensure a very short rebellion indeed. West would take them through some dense forests before they ended up on the wide, open plains close to the industrial cities. He wasn't entirely sure what to do from there, but he would have to take his chances for now.

Kafei had disappeared in the night, though Elenwe assured them that there was no need to worry. He had a tendency to do that, apparently. He had been conspicuously quiet since Sheik had announced that he was going back to the army, only speaking a word or two here and there. It was strange not to have him commenting on everything. He had provided a rather amusing end to their declaration the night before, but...

"He's brooding," Elenwe said, waving a hand as they walked. "He does that a lot." It was said very casually, obviously quite used to it. "Best leave him be."

"You don't sound very angry at him anymore," Link noted, looking at her. "Did you forgive him?"

"Didn't forgive him per se," Elenwe said, looking thoughtful. "More like, can't be bothered with the anger at all. It's not my loss, it's his. Besides, as they say, plenty of fish in the sea, which my mother very much attested to during her time. She had more bed partners than I could count, and she loved each and every one of them. Well, _mostly_ everyone. I doubt she liked the human woman who tried to kill her in her sleep that one time, at least not afterwards. She took it all in stride, though, and I think that's the longest keelhaul I've ever seen in my life. Ah, childhood memories..."

She might as well have been telling a fluffy bedtime story for the tone she used, light and amused.

Link and Sheik exchanged glances, quietly agreeing on never asking about Elenwe's mother again. Jeryd saw fit to be a part of this deal as well. Sheik shifted his attention to the human, looking him up and down properly in the daylight.

"You look like you've been walking through a slaughterhouse," he stated.

"Might as well have," Jeryd said, tugging at the fabric of his robes. He had tried to get the worst of the bloodstains out of them, but it was an effort in futility now that it had all dried. "Agon's men didn't stand a chance. I'm surprised any of them were left alive. And then I keep remembering that I have somehow ended up on the side of the good guys."

"That surprises you?"

"As utterly reviled my guild is in this kingdom except for when the nobles find a use for us, yes," Jeryd admitted. "Then again, I guess I was due to be a good guy one of these days." He grinned. "Irony at work is a powerful thing."

"You were never a bad guy," Links said. "I can't imagine you doing bad things. Not on purpose, anyway."

Jeryd didn't reply, only smiling serenely at the Hero.

 _Something has happened,_ Sheik thought as he looked at the human. _He's changed. Not obviously, but there's something there...and shut up, you, I'm not interested in your opinion,_ he told Speil.

Later that night, they were summoned to the command tent. Rial had a map of Lumina on the table and was studying it when they came inside. He looked up and nodded.

"I've been thinking about what you said," he told them, "and I agree. Taking out _The Chimera_ should be our top priority. As long as that thing is hounding us, we will never make any headway. We can forget about marching across any open territory since her cannons will annihilate us like they did in the marsh."

"You sound like you have a plan," Link said. He looked at a small piece of wood that was vaguely shaped like a boat that had been placed on the map. "Is that...?"

"It's the approximate position of the ship right now, based on reports we have received from our scouts. It will reach our original position in just a few hours from now, apparently."

"Will it find us?" Sheik asked, to which Rial shook his head.

"I don't think so. The trees will provide us with cover for now, and by the time we reach the open fields, _The Chimera_ will hopefully be history. And going back to you original statement, no, I do not have a plan, but I think I know someone who will."

"Who?"

"His name is Jedistern Tadian," Rial said. When no looks of comprehension crossed over their faces, he nodded. "I didn't expect you to know who he is," he continued. "He's the royal engineer and the man who designed _The Chimera_. If anyone knows how to destroy the ship, it'll be him."

"Find him and get the information out of him, then?" Sheik asked, crossing his arms. "I assume that's why you called us here, in order to send us after him."

"You're more than welcome to decline," Rial said. "You've already done more than enough to help us by showing me that letter. I just think that the assignment will take someone who has experience with infiltration and interrogation. I'm sure that having a Sheikah suddenly appearing in front of him will shock him into submission right away."

"Fair enough," Sheik said. "Where can we find him?"

"He has a workshop close to one of the mining towns here," Rial said and pointed to a series of dots on the map. None of them had names. None of them seemed big enough to warrant them. "He gets his raw materials directly from it."

"And you know for certain that he will be there?"

"Almost," Rial said. "As far as I know, he left the city soon after the King was murdered. This is one of the few locations I can imagine him retreating to."

"Will he be sympathetic to the rebels?"

"You know, I've no idea," Rial said, scratching his neck. "I've never been able to gauge his political leanings. Maybe he doesn't even have them. He's always seemed like a bit of an introverted sort, not really caring about what happens in the world as long as he has a steady supply of materials for his designs."

"What if he doesn't talk?" Link asked.

"That's when you'll have to get creative, I imagine," Rial said. "Not that I can order you to do anything since you're not technically under my command, but..."

"I think we can use our _imaginations_ ," Sheik said. "We're going to need some more information on him, however. Family, background, that sort of thing."

"I'm sorry, but that's all I've got. Jedistern is a very secretive man and his private life is a complete mystery to anyone but himself, I think. Like you said, you will have to use your imagination. I hope you're good at improvising."

"Improvising is what we _do_ ," Link said, grinning. "Right, Sheik?"

"Pretty much, yes," Sheik affirmed. "Would like to have _one_ plan go off without a hitch at some point, however."

"So it's settled, then," Rial said. "You will find Jedistern and make him tell how to destroy _The Chimera_."

"What should we do with him once he's talked?" Sheik asked.

"If he seems sympathetic to us, try to convince him to join the rebellion," Rial said. "We could really use someone with his expertise on our side. On the other hand, if he tries to go to Rehm and the others..." He looked at his hand and made a fist. "Then he is a liability and should be dealt with accordingly."

"So...you mean kill him," Link said, grimacing. "I don't know..."

"If he escapes after your visit and is allowed to warn the enemy, we can forget any plans to get rid of the airship," Rial said. "Security will be tightened to the point where it will be impossible to as much as look at it without them shooting at us. No, I'm afraid that he'll have to be silenced permanently if he proves to be a problem."

"We'll figure something out," Sheik said. "We will need someone to guide us to the workshop."

"Captain Ryger of the Denal house guardsmen is from around here, apparently," Rial said. "I'm sure he would be happy to assist you. Also, I would take some horses if I were you, it will be tiring to cross the tundra on foot."

"Right, we will need some time to prepare. We can head out at first light, I think," Sheik said.

"Very good. I cannot thank you enough for your help," Rial said, smiling. "I don't know what we did to deserve it, but I'm certain you and your princess' involvement will be decisive in the war."

"Let's not get our hopes up too high, general," Sheik said, giving him a wry grin. "The war has barely begun, after all."

D_DS

"He's looking more and more like a leader every day," Link said as they walked back to the others. "Don't you think?"

"He's getting comfortable in the role of general," Sheik said. "And frankly, based on what I'm seeing and hearing here, it's sorely needed. Keeping the nobles under control while also effectively wielding this strength will be his true test."

"Sheik..."

Sheik stopped, looking quizzically at the Hero. "Is something wrong?" he asked.

"No, I just...I'm just not sure what to think about all this," Link said, gesturing around them. "Getting involved in another war..."

"We are doing what is necessary to prevent a great injustice from taking place, Link," Sheik said, gripping his forearm gently. "And now that Zelda is coming, we need to prepare this place so it will be safe for her arrival."

"I know, I know, it's just...I'm tired of fighting all the time."

"So am I, but think of it like this: once this is over, we can go home, and barring some horrible cataclysmic event of universal proportions, I think it will be a long time before we are called upon to fight again. Zelda will make sure of that."

Link stared at him in a way that made Sheik feel very self-conscious. "What?" he finally asked.

"Since when were _you_ the optimist here?" Link asked, unable to suppress an amused grin.

"I'm not an optimist," Sheik stated. "I just want to make to a happy prediction for once since it's all going to hell anyway."

"And there we are, the universe is aligned again," Link said, breathing a mock sigh of relief. "Was starting to wonder if I was going to see pigs flying in a minute."

"You're an arse," Sheik muttered and continued back to the tent, Link catching up a few seconds later, still laughing. "Anyway, we need to think about who we're going to bring."

"Bring?"

"I don't think it will be enough with you, me and this Captain Ryger to undertake the mission," Sheik elaborated.

"Who, then?"

"Jeryd, perhaps." Sheik said. "He's a trained assassin, and probably knows a great deal of interrogation techniques, if it becomes necessary. Also, he spent a lot of time at the castle, didn't he? I'm sure he has met this Jedistern fellow a few times."

"I guess," Link said. "Think he'll want to, though?"

"I don't know, but it can't hurt to ask, right?"

"What about Kafei and Elenwe?"

"Pardon me, but I don't really feel like spending any more time with my cousin than I already have," Sheik said. Kafei had been on his mind far too often lately, and he needed some time away from the older Sheikah. "Besides, he can probably make himself very useful around here."

"And Elenwe?"

"She can join us if she wishes," Sheik said. "But somehow, I don't think she will."

"Why not?"

"I don't know, but I think it involves my _dear_ cousin." Sheik shook his head, not wanting to speculate. "Probably some horrid revenge scheme."

"But she said—"

"What people say and what people do are often very different things, Link," Sheik said. "I don't think I have to remind you about that."

Link looked slightly miffed, but nodded. "All right, fine, I'll trust you on that."

They stepped inside the tent. Jeryd and Elenwe looked up from the game of War they were playing. Kafei was nowhere to be seen.

"Who's up for some fun?" Sheik asked.

* * *

**Soul Remnants  
Chapter 44**

* * *

"Everything is ready, Your Majesty," Jan said quietly as he put the tray on the table in front of Victor. "Come nightfall, the signal shall be given."

"Excellent," Victor said, the anxiety he had been feeling all day subsiding a little. He picked up his cup of tea and took a careful sip. Maybe he'd actually be able to keep it down this time. "Thank you, Jan," he said, smiling.

"It is my pleasure, sir," Jan replied and finished arranging the King's breakfast. The toast had been slightly burned, but Victor had made it absolutely clear that it did not matter. It did not sit well with the servant, but he had settled on quietly fuming at the cook. "I should perhaps mention that the...price of this little adventure was not on the affordable side. It took me quite a while to rustle up the advance payment—Rehm has emptied most of the vaults."

"I know, Jan, but trust me, it will be worth it. You shall be repaid a hundredfold should this succeed," Victor said.

"On the other hand," the old man said, "should this fail I will most likely be killed."

There was no emotional aspect in the sentence. It was just a statement of fact, a fact that Victor was very much aware of. And so was Jan, but the servant did not seem bothered by this.

"Jan, if you do not wish to participate, I urge you to—"

"I took an oath to do everything in my power to help you in any way I can, Your Majesty," Jan interrupted him. "And I do not intend to break that oath or otherwise dishonour myself. Your father was a good man before Rehm's poison twisted him into the parody we saw just before he died—and I might say that it was perhaps a mercy that his death happened so swiftly—and you seem to be shaping up to become just like him. Therefore, I see no reason not to do everything in my power to help. So, in short: no bloody way, sir."

Victor's mouth hung open for a few seconds before he caught himself and slammed it shut. He took another sip of tea before speaking again, "Thank you, Jan. I cannot begin to—"

"Then you should not," Jan said kindly. "I am merely performing my duty."

The King motioned for the servant to take a seat opposite him, but Jan shook his head, his pride not allowing him to. Silence reigned supreme in the room as Victor began to eat his breakfast, wishing there was something he could do in return for the faithful service, but he had a feeling Jan would reject that as well as a matter of principle.

"So...tonight, then?" Victor asked.

"Tonight, sir. I would give you more details, but one can never tell who might be listening. And frankly, the less you know about this, the better. Just be assured that every detail has been taken care of." He cracked a smile. "No one will ever know what happened."

"I certainly hope so, Jan, I certainly hope so," Victor said and continued eating.

The day went by agonisingly slow, and Victor felt like he was going to go insane with nervousness and anticipation. His appetite was practically non-existent, and his heart would not stop racing whenever he thought about what was to transpire later. In desperation for something to occupy his mind, he began to read his old journals. It was sad reading. While he had never been particularly happy about the fact that he would have to become king one day, the rambling musings of his younger self painted him as downright hostile towards the idea. He hated everything about it, the classes, the lectures, his father's constant need to remind him of his future, the overbearing sense and weight of responsibility. He was surprised he had lasted so many years at all.

But as the prince grew older, he often mentioned his guards. One was mentioned more frequent than others, an eager young man who had been transferred to the Royal Guards a short time after finishing basic training and quickly rose through the ranks. Rial, his name was. Rial Vortan. He had breached protocol once and addressed the prince directly by name during a sword training session. Everyone except Victor himself had been horrified at the lack of etiquette. The prince, on the other hand, had been intrigued by the guard and often requested for him to be added to his permanent retinue.

Rial had been terrified, certain that he was going to be punished at some point, but when the young Victor had simply asked him to be his personal bodyguard and sword instructor, a friendship quickly blossomed. He blushed at the words he had used to describe Rial over the years: dashing, handsome, strong, bold... It was almost as if...no, not _that_.

He had almost convinced himself of that fact until he found the passage where he described the ceremony during which Rial was promoted to captain of the Royal Guard. The descriptions and tone the younger Victor had used were too blatant to be mistaken for something else. How could he have been so blind?

He sighed and closed the journal, missing Rial more than ever. "I guess I don't see you just as a friend," he said to himself. "But that just makes me more determined than ever."

The knock on his door came at the stroke of midnight, just like Jan had told him it would. He sprang out of bed, dressed in clothes fit for rough travel, and knocked back. Satisfied with the signal, the person on the other side of the door unlocked and opened it. The face was unfamiliar, but he spotted Jan standing just behind the stranger.

"Your Majesty," the stranger said, nodding. "The name's Smythe and I'll be your escape artist this evening." Smythe's face was anything but pleasant to look at, an impressive collection of scars marring a visage that had probably been handsome at some point long ago.

"No time for introductions," Jan whispered harshly and looked nervously around them. "Let's go."

The guards stationed outside Victor's room fell into step behind them as they stalked through the dark and quiet corridors of the castle. Someone had extinguished most of the lamps and torches. It would be another twenty minutes at the least before one of the other patrols would notice. Victor wondered how much gold it had taken to convince his wardens to agree to help them, being Agon's men and all. It couldn't have been a negligible sum.

Nor could it have been cheap to convince all the other sentries to conveniently turn a blind eye to the procession sneaking through the castle.

"There are men with horses waiting in the courtyard," Smythe explained quietly as they walked. "We'll ride quickly through the city and out a side gate. We've bribed the guards there as well. Then we will ride for the ruins of Angen's inn, where more men are waiting to escort you to safety."

"And where is safety, exactly?" Jan asked.

"Somewhere far away from here," Smythe replied cryptically.

Victor noticed that Jan was armed with a long and wicked-looking knife. Jan noticed him studying his weapon and silently handed Victor a long, wrapped parcel he had been carrying under his arm. The length and weight gave the sword away immediately, and Victor had a feeling that it wasn't just any sword his servant had procured for him.

"I thought it was buried with him?" Victor whispered.

"That's not what he wanted," Jan replied.

They reached the main hall and spied the doors to the courtyard. Smythe halted the group and snuck ahead, scouting the courtyard. Victor heard a horse snort. Smythe came back. "Looks clear," he said. "We ride fast and hard—we stop for nothing. By the time the city guard knows what's happening, we'll be over the hills and far away."

"Assuming the gate guards are still on our side," Jan said.

"They are loyal to the hand that gives them gold," Smythe said. "And I've given them more than they could hope to make in a year."

Two cloaked and hooded men waited outside with seven horses. Not a single guard was in sight. They silently climbed into their saddles and were quickly out in the city streets, heading straight for the northern gates. This was the gate through which most of the mercantile traffic flowed through and was usually closed for everyone but those who had official permits.

The streets were mostly empty save for a few drunken stragglers stumbling their way home. No one took particular heed of the horses passing by, even though the animals were actually forbidden within the walls. The guards seemed to assume that they were officials, though only the faces of the two soldiers who had guarded Victor could be seen. It was almost too easy, thought the King.

They reached the gate approximately fifteen minutes after leaving the castle. The gate was closed.

"Don't worry," Smythe assured them. "The deal was to keep the gate closed as to not arouse suspicion until we got here. One quick word with the captain and they'll open it."

They stopped a distance away from the gate and Smythe dismounted, holding his hands wide to show that he meant no harm. The guards visibly relaxed upon seeing this, and the captain stepped out of the barracks. Victor couldn't hear the words exchanged between the men, but they shook hands and Smythe was smiling when he turned back to Victor and the others.

"They'll open the gate and—ack!"

The smile faded and Smythe's voice cracked as the tip of the captain's sword emerged from his stomach, just below his ribs. He sank to his knees as the captain pulled his sword out of him, eyes glazing over before falling sideways onto the cobbles.

"Shit," one of Smyhe's men growled and drew his weapon, as did the others.

"Now!" the captain shouted, and guards emerged from the buildings around them. Several brandished bows and were aiming at them.

"Your Majesty," Jan said calmly, "it's been an honour. I'm sorry."

For all his trouble, the only reward the guard captain received in the end was a dagger to the throat, thrown by one of Smythe's men.

"Dismount!" someone ordered, and they did. To their credit, Victor's once-wardens gathered around their King, aiming to protect him. Victor wondered why, but his thoughts were quickly interrupted when the fighting started.

It was short and brutal. One of the wardens went down immediately, an arrow sticking out of his eye socket. Not even a scream erupted from his mouth. The first of Smythe's men had his head chopped clean off by a guardsman, but he was quickly avenged by the other, who slit the guard's throat open with a neat and precise swipe of his knife.

Jan surprised Victor most of all. It was obvious from the man's form and lack of finesse that Jan was not formally trained in combat, but he made up for it by fighting dirty. He kicked, punched, bit and scratched his way through guardsmen in a violent display of fury. No target was off-limits as far as he was concerned, and many bollocks were irreparably damaged that night. It wasn't until the second warden fell to a spear through his back that Victor remembered what he was holding. He let the wrappings fall from around the sword, gripping the hilt tightly.

Robar's sword was expertly fashioned and perfectly balanced. It was simple, not a single decoration upon it. It was neither too heavy nor too light, and it fit in Victor's hand perfectly. He had never expected to wield this blade, having been under the impression that the sword had been buried with its owner, but he was glad to have it.

 _This is the day I fight, Father,_ he thought as he fell into the stance Rial had taught him, brandishing the blade. _Even if it is a hopeless one, I shan't give up while there is still breath in me!_

The first guard didn't take him seriously. He paid dearly for that mistake as Victor opened up side, his face freezing in a horrified expression. The second was quicker on the uptake, but the defence came too late when the blade sank deep into his gut.

Had he not been blinded by anger and the adrenaline flowing through his veins, the King would have been horrified by his actions. He had never killed before, had never even bloodied his weapons. All fights had been controlled and watched carefully. None had been for real. And now he was drawing blood left and right.

The third guard realised that the King wasn't actually going to crack under pressure and went on the offense right away. The man was not experienced, Victor could tell, or had not been a soldier for long. His strikes were even clumsier than Victor's, and he managed to parry each of them perfectly. Rial would have been proud. Yet, it was only dumb luck that won Victor the fight, for the soldier nearly spitted him with a forward thrust. He stumbled backwards, just barely avoiding the sword tip. He lost his balance and landed on his backside just as the guard stumbled forward. It was over in less than a second, and Victor felt warm blood coating his hand as the guard impaled himself on his father's sword. That's when the reality of the situation set in, and everything came rushing back. He looked up just in time to see the last of Smythe's men go down, stabbed in the back by a wounded guard.

Only he and Jan remained now, but Jan was wounded and slowing down at an alarming pace. The knife clattered on the cobbles, and the old man raised his hand in defeat, clutching his side where his shirt was quickly getting soaked through by blood.

"Drop it," the closest guard said to Victor, and he slowly relinquished his grip on the old king's weapon.

 _Defeated again...so much for not giving up while there is still breath in me,_ he thought. For a very brief moment, he contemplated killing himself with one of the weapons lying around, but the chance disappeared the second he was seized by many hands at once and pulled to his feet.

It was humiliating, the way he was taken back to the castle. His hands were tied behind his back while a rope was tied around his neck and attached to the saddle of a horse that rode ahead, walking him like a dog on a leash. Jan was dragged right behind him by more guards.

Victor wasn't surprised to find Rehm standing on the castle steps as they entered the courtyard. The old man shook his head.

"What am I going to do about you, hm?" he asked as he slowly descended and stood in front of the King. "I warned you, didn't I? Bad things would happen if you attempted to escape my control again."

Victor didn't reply, only glared at the councillor.

"Growing defiant, are we? Well, that is no matter. Guards, take him to the dungeons and make sure that he won't have any chance at escaping again. Wait!"

His captors paused, and Victor felt sick to his stomach as he saw Rehm's gaze land on Jan, who was visibly starting to succumb to his injury. The councillor's eyes lit up.

"I always knew you would end up causing trouble, Jan," he said as he sidled up to the servant, holding Robar's sword. "I suppose some loyalties truly last forever. Ridiculous concept, really, since loyalty is so easily bought with a few measly coins. The guard captain came to me immediately after this Smythe person bribed him and his men. It was so embarrassingly easy to plan the ambush." Rehm leaned in close, whispering loudly so that everyone could hear him, "Isn't it funny to know that the King's suffering will only get worse because of you?"

There was no time for Jan to answer. He only let out a pathetic moan as Rehm stabbed him in the stomach with Robar's sword. Jan was dead before he even hit the ground.

"Have the corpse drawn and quartered," Rehm said as he wiped the blood off the blade with a handkerchief. "Put it on display as a warning to those who plan to betray the King and his lands."

"You bastard!" Victor screamed, struggling against his bonds. "I'll kill you, I'll kill you!"

Victor's cheek erupted with pain as the broadside of his father's sword smacked into it. He saw stars and felt his knees go weak, the excitement from the fight finally subsiding, leaving him a jellied mess, the only thing keeping him up being the guards' tight grip on him.

"That's quite enough of that, I think," Rehm said, stepping forward to grab Victor's chin, forcing the King to look at him. "I've tried to be kind to you, Victor, I truly have. I allowed you autonomy within the castle, but then you sent a piss ant noble to spy on me. I did not throw you in the dungeons, but allowed you to stay within your chambers, and you repay me for that kindness by mustering a pathetic army and _then_ trying to escape. You have every bit of your father's stubbornness in you." He shook his head. "Admirable when it suited me, but detrimental when it didn't. Robar served his purpose quite well, but you have been nothing but a thorn in my side, and I see no reason to provide you with any more entertainment. You shall be locked in the deepest dungeon this castle has to offer, and you shall stay there, possibly for the rest of your miserable little life." He nodded at the guards. "Take him away. Strip him of everything. It's time the King learned a little humility in life."

As he was dragged towards the dungeons, Victor could only look at Jan's corpse as the guards began to tie ropes around his limbs. He saw four horses being brought into the courtyard before the door was slammed shut, blocking his view.

They passed by the torture room where Victor had contracted the assassin who killed his father on their way to his cell. He was filled with even more shame as he spotted it, bitterly thinking back to the meeting.

 _If only I knew then what I know now,_ he thought. _Father, Rial, Len, Jan...I failed you all..._

Even his clothes were taken from him, and he was hurled naked into the cell without even a light to keep him company. The heavy door was closed behind him, and the lock turned. Shivering in the tiny, freezing room, Victor curled into a ball on the floor, weeping at his own uselessness.

_It's up to you now, Rial...please forgive me..._

* * *

It was slow going, climbing the hill. The snow was deep and could barely support their weight, much less that of their supplies.

Sheik cursed inwardly as he sank to his groin in it, knowing he wouldn't have a chance to dry himself before they made camp later that night. _Suddenly, I wish we had taken the horses,_ he thought. Rial had given him, Link and Jeryd three steeds to ride to Jedistern's workshop, but they had left them tied to some trees where the hill met the plains they had crossed in the past few days. The hill itself was too steep for the horses, they had decided, and they would have been difficult to hide upon approaching the workshop itself.

"How much longer?" Jeryd asked, panting with exhaustion as they reached the top of the hill. It gave them quite a view of the surrounding area. It was mostly flat terrain in all directions except for the one they were travelling in. North-east would take them further up the crags, and crossing them would place them very close to the workshop and the mining town that supplied it.

"Over those hills there, and another few hours, and we'll be there," Link said, squinting at the map. The sun was shining down on them, but it was doing little to warm them up. In fact, it wasn't doing that at all, it was only making it difficult to see due to the glare from the snow. "Not sure what the workshop looks like, but I think it'll stand out."

"True," Jeryd agreed.

Sheik turned away from them and looked out across the plains. Some dark shapes in the distance hinted at buildings. Possibly a village, he decided. He fished out a spyglass Riveth had lent him and looked through it.

 _Definitely a village, and a small one at that,_ he thought. _Perhaps somewhere we can spend the night once we've dealt with the engineer._

Not that he assumed they'd be welcome if they knew anything about what had happened in the capital city, but it was something to keep in mind when they left. He went to put the spyglass back in his pack when his sensitive ears picked up a small, almost imperceptible rumbling sound. It sounded familiar.

"Link—"

"Yeah, I hear it too," the Hero said. Sheik could have sworn he saw Link's ears twitching.

"Hear what?" Jeryd asked. His small, human ears weren't nearly as sensitive to sound as the two others'.

"I don't know," Sheik said slowly, looking through the spyglass again. He wasn't looking along the ground, though, but up in the air, as if scouting for birds and—"There!" he exclaimed, pointing at a small, black dot that was descending from the sky, close to the small village by the looks of it. " _The Chimera_!"

"Shit, they've been following us?" Jeryd asked, nearly tearing the spyglass out of Sheik's hands and looking through it himself.

"I don't think so," Sheik said. "Otherwise they wouldn't have come down so low until they were practically on top of us."

"Let me see," Link said and too the spyglass. "No, you're right; it's not even coming this way."

"What are they doing, then?" Sheik asked.

"Circling the village," the Hero replied.

"But why?" Jeryd said.

"No idea. Can't see clearly from here. Wait…oh no!"

"What is it, did they—"

The crack of cannon fire, dulled by the distance the sound had travelled, reached their ears long after the shot had actually been fired. It was joined by several more as the airship attacked the village.

"They're shooting!"

"Let me see," Sheik said. They were too far away to make out any details other than the fires in the village and flashes from _The Chimera_ 's cannons. Dark shapes ran around the buildings—the villagers, most likely. _Goddesses…_

"I don't understand," Jeryd said, looking at the map. "It's just a small farming community. Why would they be attacking it? They couldn't possibly have anything Rehm wants!"

"Or maybe they do," Link said. "Maybe they think the villagers are hiding the rebels—us." He was reaching for his sword, but Sheik put a hand on his shoulder when he heard the blade beginning to emerge from its scabbard.

"And what exactly are you planning to do from here, Hero?" Sheik asked. "In case you haven't noticed, they're very far away. And even if you managed to close the distance before the attack is over, what would you do?"

"So I'm just supposed to stand by and watch, am I?" Link asked, his voice shaking.

"Yes," Sheik said, shaking his head sadly. "In this case, there is nothing we can do for them. The best thing is for us to continue on our way, find Jedistern and make him tell us how to destroy the ship—so we can prevent this from happening ever again."

"He's right, Link," Jeryd piped in. "We should go before someone on the ship sees us."

"That is also a good reason to get a move on," Sheik said. He could tell by Link's pained expression that the Hero did not agree with their action, but wouldn't argue either. He understood that they were powerless to stop the massacre, but his ability to suppress the unpleasant feelings and move on weren't nearly as well-honed as Sheik's. Or Jeryd's, for that matter. The human muttered curses under his breath, but did not cast another glance in the village's direction. Sheik wondered what kind of atrocities the assassin had witnessed in order to file this away in his mind.

"There's one good piece of information we can gather from this," Jeryd said as they headed for the cliffs.

"And that is?" Link asked, clearly doubtful.

"At least we know they haven't found the army," Jeryd said. "They must have flown right past them after finding nothing but bodies at Agon's camp."

"That _is_ good news," Sheik said. "But that also means we have to be more careful from now on. No moving across wide open expanses in broad daylight. The cliffs will hide us for now, but when we descend on the other side, it's best to stick to cover."

"Definitely," Jeryd said.

* * *

It took them the better part of two days to fully clear the small collection of hills and crags—which seemed more like several small mountains—and by nightfall on the second day they found themselves looking out on another plain. In the distance they could see the foot of the ever-present mountain chain that both protected and confined Lumina. Close to the foot of the mountains, there was the unmistakable shape of a mining town. Smoke billowed from the foundries and furnaces. The snow around it was stained a deep black from the polluted air.

"That's it," Jeryd said. "That has to be the town we're looking for."

"Does it have a name?" Link asked.

"Not a formal one, nor do the others around here," the human replied. "I think they're all designated by numbers, and according to the map this is probably number Three."

"So the workshop should be…over there somewhere," Sheik said, looking at a point directly south of the town. Their view was obscured by a copse of trees, but a road snaked its way through the landscape from the town and behind the trees. "Lumber and metal close by. Ideal location."

"Yeah," Link said. "If we move now, we'll make it there before sunrise."

"Then we had better go," Sheik said. "There's no place to hide during the day here."

If Sheik had hated the snow before, he absolutely _loathed_ it now. On more than one occasion two companions had to pull the third out of the snow, into which he had sunk to his chest. This slowed them down considerably, and the freezing wind that suddenly began to kick up snow around them did not help matters at all.

It was a relief to finally reach some more solid ground close to the road, but it had taken them a good five hours to reach this point. They were wet and cold and the wind refused to relent, so they eventually sought shelter among the trees. As they stopped to rest for a bit, they realised they were close. They could see light in the distance, which turned out to emanate from the windows of a massive, warehouse-like building by the road. Surrounding the larger building was a series of smaller ones, all built for a specific purpose by the looks of them. Only the largest one had light coming from it. The road cut through the yard and continued south, probably snaking its way past and through the other mining towns before joining with one of the highways.

"If this isn't a workshop, I don't know what it is," Jeryd said, his teeth chattering.

"No guards," Sheik noted, studying the compound. "Unless they're inside, of course."

"Do royal engineers usually have guards?" Link said.

"Don't ask me," Jeryd said. "I've never met the man, only seen him on official occasions. Never saw him with anyone but his pupils and such, though."

"Wouldn't make sense not to have any guards," Sheik said. "If he's the King's personal engineer, then he will have many valuables in his workshop. Schematics and the like, I mean. Surely he has someone to protect his work?"

"Like I said, I don't know, and we won't find out until we get a closer look. And I'd really like for that to happen soon because I think my toes are about to fall off."

They quietly crossed the compound and the road, crouching below the glowing windows. They exchanged glances, quietly wondering who was going to look inside, with Sheik losing the competition. He peered through the glass and saw a plain, undecorated room with wooden furniture. The light came from multiple oil lamps scattered all over the room, most of them illuminating what seemed to be a million unfinished projects that dotted the tables and walls. Trinkets, doodads and tools were everywhere he could see.

"Anything?" Link said.

"No, just an empty—"he ducked as a door swung open. "Someone came in."

"Who?"

"I can't bloody check without them noticing me," Sheik hissed.

"It's the man himself," Jeryd said. He had quietly raised his head to look inside the building during the exchange between his companions. "Huh, weird to see him without that apron of his. Guess it's a formal uniform of sorts."

Link and Sheik took Jeryd's ease with spying at the man as a sign of safety and looked in themselves.

Jedistern Tadian was not a tall man. He was probably somewhere between Link and Sheik's heights, but the wild mane of red hair on his head added more than a few inches to his stature. This, combined with his extremely thin body, made for a humorous appearance. A pair of protective goggles hung around his neck, almost obscured by the collar of his coat. The coat had probably been white at some point, but it was stained with such an assortment of colours and shades that it could only be described as a rainbow. Sheik could practically hear Impa's "tsk" at his mental description. His eyes appeared to be grey, with a certain intense quality to them as he stared at a blueprint, oblivious to the three people spying on him a few feet away. His mouth moved, but they could not hear what he was saying.

"Who's he talking to?" Jeryd whispered.

"Himself, maybe?" Link suggested.

"Perhaps," Sheik said. "We won't know until we get inside."

"We'll risk it?" Jeryd asked. "Could be guards inside."

"We won't find out by staying out here," Link said, crawling towards a side door. "Come on." He reached out and tried the handle. "It's not even locked," he said and slowly pushed it open. There was no creak, which honestly surprised Sheik. Wasn't there a rule about creaky doors and floorboards when sneaking into a house?

The door opened into an antechamber of sorts; a small room containing little more than coat hangers, a set of stairs leading up and a wall lined with several doors. Sheik figured that it was the one on their far right that would lead them into the room Jedistern currently occupied. They quickly and quietly closed the door behind them.

"What now?" Jeryd asked.

"He's through that door," Sheik said, pointing. They could hear quiet murmurs coming from the other side.

"Shouldn't we look for guards first?" Link said. "I'm really tired of being caught in ambushes all the time."

"Are you volunteering?" Sheik asked.

"I would if it hadn't been repeatedly pointed out to me that I'm as stealthy as a one-legged man jumping about while wearing an ill-fitting suit of armour," the Hero shot back sourly.

"It's like listening to an old married couple," Jeryd said. "All right, I'll check upstairs, Link will keep an eye on Jedistern while Sheik checks the ground floor. Got it? Good, move out."

The human began to climb the stairs without another word, leaving Sheik and Link to stare after him in stupefied silence, both wondering what had just happened.

"Since when was he so assertive?" Sheik asked, to which Link only shrugged. "Right, stay here and make sure he doesn't see you," he told the Hero and went for one of the far doors. It wasn't locked, and the Sheikah and the Hero exchanged a glance before he quickly opened it, revealing a pitch-black room beyond the doorway. He went inside, closing the door behind him.

The room smelled of oil. Sheik's eyes quickly accustomed themselves to the dark, his superior night vision revealing most of the room to him. There was another door at the other end of it. All sorts of metallic apparatuses and devices could be seen. Giant gear cogs were mounted on the walls, mostly as a decoration by the looks of it. Sheik carefully picked up a square box, also made of some sort of metal. It gently vibrated in his hand. There was no decorations or instructions, its surfaces smooth and featureless. He put it to his ear. A quiet ticking sound could be heard within. Amused, Sheik put the box back down on the table and went for the other door.

The room on the other side was lit, and he peered through the keyhole. Another room, identical to this one, but filled with alchemical equipment. After judging the room to be empty, Sheik opened the door and took a quick glance around. Glass beakers, tubes and containers were set up in complex networks all over the tables and shelves, some filled with bubbling concoctions that Sheik could only guess the purposes of. The air stank of sulphur and other chemicals.

 _Seems Jedistern is interested in more than mechanics,_ he thought. There was a test tube filled with the most intensely blue liquid he had ever seen, which he picked up with fascination. He wasn't prepared for the powerful smell of ammonia, and nearly dropped the tube as his nose burned.

 _Stupid, stupid, stupid,_ he chastised himself and put the tube down, moving to the next room.

It seemed Jedistern's workshop consisted of several interconnected rooms of equal size, each dedicated to a specific branch of science or engineering. Sheik passed through all of them until he figured he had circled back to the one Jedistern was in. He could hear someone talking quietly on the other side, and nodded to himself. Above, he heard Jeryd's muffled footsteps as he looked through the second floor. He hoped Jedistern wouldn't hear.

 _Damn, we never agreed on a signal,_ Sheik thought. Something crashed to the floor upstairs. Glass broke. Sheik winced. _Good grief, Jeryd..._

"Who's there?" a voice, presumably Jedistern's, demanded from the next room. "Ewan? Is that you?" Rapid footsteps and the door to the antechamber opened. Sheik listened as Jedistern ran up the stairs before opening the door and slipping inside the room. It was warm inside. The schematics scattered all over the place didn't make much sense to Sheik, but then again he had never really taken an interest in mechanics. He wondered where Link was, and had his question answered soon after as the Hero came inside the room, their eyes meeting.

"He's even worse than me," Link whispered harshly, rolling his eyes at Jeryd's lack of stealth.

"Unless he did it deliberately," Sheik said.

Jedisterns swore loudly upstairs and began to climb down the stairs again. Sheik motioned for Link to get up against the wall, and he did the same on the opposite side of the door. Jedistern strode back into the room, oblivious to them as he returned to his work.

"Stupid boy," he mumbled. "Can't even put an engine back in place...he'll hear _that_ in the morning, that's for damn sure..."

Link and Sheik looked at each other, coming to a silent agreement. Link cleared his throat loudly.

The effect was instantaneous. Jedistern yelped and flew out of his chair, whirling around to face them, but by that time Sheik had already crossed the room. He bent the man backwards over the table, putting a dagger to his throat, glaring.

"Please don't kill me, please don't kill me!" Jedistern shrieked, not even struggling against Sheik's hold on him.

"Quiet, you fool," Sheik hissed. "Or I'll slit your damn throat."

Behind them, Link went back into the antechamber and waited for Jeryd to come downstairs. "What the hell was that?" Link demanded when the human reached the floor.

"An accident?" Jeryd tried. "I brushed against something and a large thingy just _collapsed_ the table it was on and fell on the floor. Hey, at least there aren't any guards in the building, right?"

Link groaned and went back into the room with Sheik and Jedistern.

"Do you know who I am?" Sheik asked, looking into the engineer's eyes, which stared frightfully back.

"R-red eyes, b-blond hair, p-p-pointy ears," Jedistern stuttered out. "Y-you're the Sheikah, the one who k-killed the King."

"Right on one point," Sheik said, rolling his eyes. "But I didn't kill the King. Tell me; are there any guards in this building? Answer me truthfully, or I'll know you're lying and kill you on the spot."

"N-no guards," Jedistern answered, frightened. "B-but there are s-some in the worker huts."

"The other buildings?"

"Y-yes."

"Jeryd," Sheik said, "go see if any of them were roused by the racket."

"Sure," Jeryd answered and went outside.

"Do you know why we are here, Mr. Tadian?" Sheik asked.

It looked as if the engineer was about to stutter out another wide-eyed, fearful answer, but instead he closed his eyes and a strange calm washed over him, and he spoke: "To kill me? No, you would have slit my throat without even giving me a chance to speak. To destroy my workshop? No, you would have killed me and set fire to the building immediately after. You need something from me, that's why I'm still alive, but the question is what. An escape route? Doubtful, there are many ways to leave the kingdom without stopping by here. No, you're here for tangible information, but on what? Rumours have it that you have joined the traitorous General Riveth and her men, but you were also almost destroyed by _The Chimera_ several weeks ago. Clearly you survived, and are now looking for ways to eliminate the biggest thorn your side, namely the airship, which I designed and therefore..." He paused, opening his eyes to look at Sheik. "You want my help to destroy _The Chimera_."

"That's...exactly right," Sheik said slowly, unnerved by the man's quick thinking, even under such pressure, not to mention his complete change in personality. Had the fear been completely fake?

"Well, you're barking up the wrong tree, boy," Jedistern continued, all traces of fear gone from his voice now, as if having a dagger to his throat was no bother as long as he actually knew the reason it was there. "I don't lend my help to traitors."

"Then you won't mind it if I kill you?" Sheik said and increased the pressure on Jedistern's throat.

"Now, don't be h-hasty," Jedistern choked. "I've read all about you and your people—you don't kill indiscriminately."

"Oh, I can look away from certain traditions when it comes to an enemy who has become completely useless," Sheik said.

"Sheik..." Link said, sounding worried.

"Why should I help you destroy the only thing that is keeping the peace in Lumina at the moment?" Jedistern asked. "My greatest triumph?"

"Keeping the peace?" Sheik asked. "Enforcing the will of a tyrant, more like. In case you haven't noticed, that ship is used for little else than slaughtering those who take a stand against a usurper."

"Usurper?" Jedistern asked. "Victor is Robar's son, and only he could possibly take his place on the throne. How dare you suggest—"

"I'm not talking about Victor," Sheik hissed. "I'm talking about Rehm."

"Wha—"

"He's behind everything. Robar's murder, the massacre of the Royal Guard, the entire war is his doing."

Jedistern paused. "Those are some serious accusations, boy," he said slowly. "Have you any proof?"

"I don't think I need proof," Sheik said. "I think you can arrive to the conclusion all by yourself if you look at the facts."

Jedistern closed his eyes again. Whatever thought processes that went on inside Jedistern's head were impossible to imagine, but Sheik felt like he could see sparks flying within his skull.

"Robar acted strangely at the end of his life," Jedistern spoke. "All business was conducted through his council, with Rehm at the helm. He was the one who commissioned me to design and build the airship. Robar grew violent, apparently insisting that the ship had as many guns as possible. You arrived at the festival, a representative from Hyrule to thank the King for his help. Instead he was murdered with a poison that is characteristic of your assassination methods. But why would you do that? Hyrule and Lumina have been allies for years, and the war left you devastated. If your princess was picking a fight, why now?"

"I did not murder the King, nor was the princess attempting to pick a fight," Sheik growled.

"You escaped soon after and disappeared. The Royal Guard is accused of treason and massacred, though no such thing has ever occurred before in the history of the kingdom, and they were only recruited from the most loyal of soldiers. The new King is declared mentally ill soon after and all business is conducted once again through Rehm. A large number of nobles defect to the now active rebel General Riveth's side, most of these nobles being part of the houses that are historically known to support the monarchy above anything else." He paused again. "Rehm's story does not make any sense," he concluded.

"Tell him about the village," Link said quietly.

"Village?" Jedistern asked.

"A few days ago, on our way here, we saw a village being attacked by _The Chimera_ ," Sheik said. "It was completely destroyed."

"Rebels were hiding—"

"The rebel camp is far away from here. Those people were innocent civilians. Slaughtered by _your_ creation."

"You could be lying," Jedistern said. "You are in league with the rebels."

"Only to ensure our survival," Sheik said. "And I have no reason to lie to you, nor is it in my nature." He could practically feel Link's glower at him, knowing exactly what part of the sentence had annoyed the Hero. _I only lie a_ little _,_ he thought. "And I can tell you're good at analysing people, Mr. Tadian, so tell me...am I lying?"

Jedistern glared at him. "I see no evidence of it, but I find it difficult to concede to the fact, especially since you are still holding a knife to my throat."

"Will you try to escape if I remove it?"

"There are three of you and one of me, what are the odds of my success?"

"Very low."

"Exactly, and I am not a risk-taker."

"Very well, but one wrong move and you are a dead man."

"Understood."

Sheik slowly climbed off the engineer. Jedistern sat up, groaning and rubbing his back where the edge of the table had dug into it. The side door opened and closed, and Jeryd came back inside

"No one seems to have noticed the racket," he reported.

"Councillor Ise's assistant," Jedistern noted. "Didn't expect to see you here."

"Yeah, well, these are queer times," Jeryd replied.

"Hm."

Silence fell over them, and Sheik found himself anxious. "Well?" he asked the engineer.

"Well what?"

"Are you going to help us?"

"I haven't decided yet," Jedistern said, sitting down on his chair.

"You just said that Rehm's story didn't make any sense and that it's suspicious—"

"I did, but that doesn't automatically mean I'm going to start believing you. You are the ones who broke into my home and put a knife to my throat. Contrary to popular belief, that doesn't exactly build any trust, at least not on my part. Maybe things are done differently in Hyrule, but I highly doubt it. So tell me, Mr. Sheikah, why should I betray my country on your whims?"

"I...er..." Sheik struggled to find the words. The engineer seemed like a logical and serious man, like he expected a man of science to be, but surely he had arrived at his own conclusion minutes ago?

"Because if you don't, Rehm is going to open the tomb in Prison's Peak," Link said, stepping forward and looking at the man. "And that's going to be very, very bad for everyone."

Jedistern's eyes widened slightly, but his face remained otherwise passive. "That...is a serious matter," he said. "A royal decree ensured that the mountain should remain sealed forever, lest we invite another disaster like the one that struck a millennium ago. I had heard that Rehm was pushing for the new King to change it, but not even he has that power. Hm..."

The engineer remained silent for another few minutes before looking up at them. "Very well, I will help you."

"That was quick," Jeryd said.

"And not really as gut-wrenching I expected it to be," Sheik added.

"I am a man of logic, not emotion," Jedistern said. "I have considered everything you have told me, weighed it against the things I have been told, analysed the resulting mess of information and concluded that your story makes more sense than the official one put out by Rehm. However, what pushed me to take your side is the fact that, if you are indeed speaking the truth, which you indeed seem to be doing, my airship, my pride, is being used to kill innocents, a direct contradiction of its purpose, which is to _protect_ said innocents." He rose from his seat. "And that, Mr. Sheikah, _pisses me off!"_

He strode out of the room and climbed the stairs, with Sheik and the others following closely, all of them surprised at the man's sudden change of heart.

"He could be lying," Link whispered.

"That is a possibility, but he does seem rather...irate at Rehm at the moment."

"In here," Jedistern said and motioned to a set of double doors. He opened them and led the companions inside a much larger room than the others. Strange contraptions hung from the ceiling by thick straps and chains, spare parts littering the floor. "My main workshop," the engineer explained and led them towards a small desk in a corner. He opened a drawer and pulled out a large paper roll. "The schematics and blueprints for _The Chimera_ ," he said and handed it to Sheik. "Unroll it on the bench over there, please."

Sheik did as he was told. The plans covered the entire bench. Jedistern lit an oil lamp and brought it close. Sheik couldn't make heads nor tails of the drawings, and neither could Link or Jeryd by their shared looks of confusion.

"How many cannons do you have?" Jedistern asked.

"Pardon?"

How. Many. Cannons. Do. You. Have?" Jedistern repeated slowly, as if talking to an oaf. "It's hardly a mental puzzle, is it?"

Sheik glared at him. "None," he said. "We have no cannons."

"Ah," Jedistern grunted. "How archers with long-range crossbows, then?"

As far as Sheik knew, they didn't have any crossbows at all. "We only have bowmen."

Jedistern looked at him as if he was mad. "Then how do you intend on down the airship?"

"Why the hell do you think we're here?" Sheik growled. "We came to ask you!"

"I assumed you were a competent fighting force," Jedistern said, shaking his head. "Unless you actually have any weapons with which to fight the ship, then my help is of no use to you."

"We can't take the thing head-on," Link said. "Aren't there any other ways?"

"No, and as far as I'm concerned you are all—wait..." Jedistern trailed off. "There is another way, but it is extremely risky, and I highly doubt you'll be able to do it..."

"Tell us," Jeryd demanded.

"Are you familiar with the ship's method of propulsion and suspension?" Three blank looks made the engineer shake his head in dismay. "Well, the ship uses steam engines for propulsion, and hydrogen gas to stay afloat. Ballast tanks are used to either lift or lower the ship. However, my design for the storage tanks on the ship was flawed in the first iteration, and I was given no time to correct it. This means that hydrogen is constantly leaking from the ship."

"And?" Sheik asked.

"It means that the ship has to land for refuelling very often, leaving it vulnerable. If you were somehow able to take the crew by surprise, you could neutralise the ship while it's on the ground."

"Sounds easy enough," Jeryd said. "Where does it refuel?"

"That's unfortunately the part I cannot answer," Jedistern said. "There are many refuelling stations constructed in the kingdom, but the ship runs on a randomised schedule to prevent just such a thing to occur. Only the captain of the ship and the base commanders know it."

"Again, sounds easy enough," Jeryd said. "We take a station, find the schedule and wait for the ship to come in for a refuel. Easy-peasy."

"It's not that easy," the engineer said. "There are precautions in place. If the ship's crew sees the ground crew acting strangely, which you will since you don't know the proper routines and manoeuvres, they won't land."

"Damn..."

Sheik ground his teeth together. They were so close to a solution, and yet so far. "Can you help us with that?" he asked the engineer.

"In fact, I can," Jedistern said, his face grim. "I was the one who developed said routines and manoeuvres, after all, and I happen to know the location of most, if not all, the refuelling stations. However, if I am to assist you, I have one demand: I want protection."

"Protection? From what?"

"From persecution, of course," Jedistern said. "This war is going to get a lot worse before it gets better, and when it ends, the ones responsible for it will be held accountable. I do not wish to be held responsible for the deaths caused by the airship. I only built it for peaceful purposes, not this."

"I think that goes without saying—"

"Nevertheless, I want a guarantee," Jedistern said. "That is my price. Guarantee my freedom, and I'll help."

Sheik looked at the other two, who shrugged in return. Link seemed uncomfortable with the idea, but he also seemed to understand the necessity. "I'm not sure I'm in a position to make such promises, but I agree to the term," he finally said.

"Then we have a deal," Jedistern said. "I shall prepare for the journey immediately."

"Journey?"

"To the rebel camp, of course," the engineer said with disdain. "It will take weeks to get the routines and procedures down, and we can't do it here. So the only solution is that I travel back to the camp with you. That way I can also confirm that I have chosen the right side."

They waited for the engineer downstairs. They heard him rustle around; looking for clothes and Goddesses knew what else.

"I don't like this," Jeryd said. "He switched sides too fast for my liking. He hardly needed any convincing at all."

"Yeah," Link said in agreement. "How can we be sure he'll remain on our side if things get rough?"

"We can't," Sheik said. "But once we have him back in the camp, I'm sure Rial will keep a close eye on him. As long as we get him there, he won't be our responsibility for long."

"Right, I'm ready," Jedistern said as he came downstairs, wearing practical travelling clothes. He had a gigantic rucksack on his back, and he hardly seemed able to lift it on his own. "There is one thing I should ask before we leave, however."

"And that is?" Sheik asked.

"This plan takes care of _The Chimera_ and will ensure that the ship is grounded permanently...but what about the others?"

The silence was palpable, with three pairs of eyes staring the engineer down. Sheik was the first to open his mouth again.

" _What others?"_

* * *

**Soul Remants  
Chapter 45**

* * *

"Look, newcomers."

Sheik and the others looked in the direction Jeryd was pointing. Ahead of them lay Rial's camp, but it had changed since they had left. A few more banners had been added to the poles, and countless more tents had been put up. Sheik saw that the biggest banner was jet-black and adorned with a single, blood-red rose. A similarly coloured drop of what he presumed to be blood clung to the petals of the rose. It was such an unsubtle symbol that it made Sheik roll his eyes. He looked at Link and saw that the Hero was having a similar reaction to the banner.

"Three guesses who that one belongs to," he said to Link, who only grimaced.

"The rebel force is larger than I thought," Jedistern said from behind Sheik. The engineer's arms were tightly wrapped around his waist. It had taken quite a bit of convincing to get Jedistern to even climb into the saddle, much less stay in it while the horse moved. For someone who designed weapons of mass destruction that dealt death on a large scale, he was strangely unnerved by living beasts of burden. "Even Lord Reimos has joined you."

"The King decided to send a little help," Link said. "Just in the nick of time, too, or else Rial and the others would have been killed in a suicide attack."

"Interesting..." Jedistern said. "And General Agon? I heard he was in charge of the force that was hunting you down."

"Deader than a doornail," Jeryd said as they caught up to him. They were following the tracks they had left behind when they had left, the weather having remained quite stable in the past week. "The general hacked his head right off. It's on display at the command tent."

"How...nice," Jedistern said slowly. "I shall make sure not to look at it."

Sheik wondered just how the man was able to create his machines when he could not even handle the idea of seeing a severed head or a few dead bodies. They had shown him the small village that had been destroyed by _The Chimera_ after emerging from the mountains exactly two days since they had snuck into the engineer's workshop. Jedistern had not taken it well. He became silent and sullen, refusing to look at the village through the spyglass, claiming that the smoke still rising from the ruins in the distance was more than enough for him. A day later, he began to speak again, claiming that the sight of the village had only reaffirmed his belief that joining the rebellion was the right thing to do.

And yet, Sheik still did not trust him. He didn't trust anyone who would change sides at the drop of a hat (or, in Jedistern's case, a dagger at his throat). Changing loyalties by way of coercion was rarely a permanent condition. So he had resolved to keep a close eye on the engineer, waiting for any sign that he had been faking it all. And if he did, swift action would be taken.

A pair of guards was waiting for them at the perimeter of the camp. The group slowed down their approach, and Sheik rode in front. The guards simply nodded at them as they came closer and stood aside.

"The general got your message and is waiting for you at the headquarters," one of them told Sheik, to which the Sheikah nodded in gratitude. He had sent Kaiza ahead, telling Rial that they had not only made contact with Jedistern, but were bringing him back with them.

"Might wanna be careful, though," said the other guard, "the nobs are going at it again."

"Like always," Jeryd muttered.

They delivered the horses to the stables and, after petting Shun for a bit, headed for the command tent. There were a lot of new faces in the camp, and quite a few of them were wearing expensive armour and clothes. It was probably no coincidence that they were wearing rose emblems either. They did not seem like a friendly bunch, shouldering their way through the crowds and sneering at anyone who wasn't part of their group.

"Mercenary scum," someone spoke in a pretend-whisper.

They reached the command tent and were not surprised to hear a lot of shouting and bellowing from within. They paused slightly, waiting for an opportune moment to make their entrance.

Sheik noticed a young man leaning against some stacked crates next to the tent entrance, a cigarette smoking between his fingers. He was wearing the clothes of a noble, but his posture told Sheik that he was anything but. He had long, auburn hair that was pulled back in a pony tail that reached just between his shoulder blades. His skin was lightly bronzed, probably having spent some time down south. His cloak was emblazoned with the horrible rose banner. He caught Sheik looking and grinned.

"Like what you see, boy?" he asked, straightening up. "Because _I_ like what _I_ see..."

Sheik was about to respond with a sarcastic remark, but Link stepped forward, glaring at the man. His hand rested on his sword's hilt.

"Ah, possessive, I see," the man said, raising his hands in surrender. "I mean no harm...though two blondes at once would be fun..."

"Sir Iteos, I presume?" Jeryd said, making no attempts to hide the disdain in his voice.

"The one and only," Iteos said, bowing mockingly. "And you are the traitorous personal assistant of councillor Ise, Jeryd." He dropped his cigarette into the snow and ground it down with the heel of his boot. "And you are the legendary Hero of Time, Link," he continued, letting his gaze roam over the small group. "And the Earl of Hyrule, Sheik."

"You seem quite knowledgeable about us," Sheik said, already suspicious of the man. He hadn't liked the things he had heard about the amorous knight, and he liked him even less in person.

"One picks up on rumours in the camp," Iteos said, inspecting his fingernails. "Especially when the ale is brought forth." He looked up at them again. "And you've even managed to convince Jedistern Tadian himself to join us. How remarkable. Tell me, how quickly did he cave in to your threats?"

"There was no caving in," Jedistern said, hardly sparing the knight a glance. "Unlike some people, I actually don't need to be convinced when I see wrong being done upon innocents."

"Oh, was that a stab at my choice of profession?" Iteos said, laughing quietly. "An attack on my person and integrity? Please, I fail to see how my job differs from yours in any significant way. I get paid to fight; you get paid to create weapons. In fact, the only minute difference between you and I, is that you're too much of a coward to fight yourself."

"At least he doesn't take pleasure in getting blood on his hands," Link said, hand still resting on his weapon.

"And I do?" Iteos asked.

"You must, since you're a mercenary," the Hero replied.

Iteos laughed again. "Ah, so naïve...no, I don't enjoy spilling blood. I do, however, enjoy the money it brings me, and since I'm good at it...I don't think I need to explain further."

"So, how much is the King paying you to stay here, then?" Jeryd asked.

"Oh, more than you can imagine," Iteos replied. He began to walk past the group. "As much as I enjoy discussions like these, I have some urgent matters to attend to." He paused, looking up Sheik and Link with unconcealed lust. "Are you quite sure I can't convince you both to join me in my bed? I'm quite skilled..."

"Quite sure," Sheik said, glaring.

"Pity..."

With that, the knight disappeared among the throngs of people.

"What an absolute twat," Jeryd said, spitting at the ground Iteos had walked on.

"Hey, didn't expect you back so early," Elenwe's voice suddenly said behind them. She grinned. "I was worried you'd get lost or something."

"Things went a lot smoother than we expected," Link explained. "Didn't even have to fight our way out, for once."

"You got your wish, then."

"Yup. Where's Kafei?"

Elenwe shrugged. "Not sure, but he's been hanging out at the blacksmith's tent quite a bit these past few days. I think he's making a new weapon or something." She winced when a particularly loud lord began shouting in a shrill voice inside the tent. "Quite a pipe on that one, huh?"

Sheik shook his head. "These nobles are worse than the ones in Hyrule," he said.

"Aren't you one of them?"

"Unfortunately, yes," Sheik admitted. "But I haven't got any lands or wealth, so I'm not entirely sure I can consider myself truly a part of the crowd."

"Zelda did try to convince you to take up estate in Kakariko in that one letter," Link reminded him. "The Shadow Temple is technically your property."

"True," Sheik said. "But I'm not sure I want it."

The conversation was interrupted when a group of very disgruntled nobles stormed out of the tent, harrumphing in a manner that only those who had been doing it since an early age could. Rial came out after them, the vein in his forehead clearly visible.

"This meeting is not over!" he shouted after the group.

"It is for our part, _general_ ," the leader of said group replied.

Rial watched them go, seething slightly before spotting Sheik and the others. "Ah, you're back," he said, shoulders sagging slightly. It was a relief to see friendly faces, apparently. "I got your message."

"So we heard," Sheik said. "Who were those people?"

"Iteos' followers," Rial said sourly. "A bunch of hot-heads whose idea of a well-fought guerrilla campaign is to charge directly at the gates to the capital."

"And die in glorious sacrifice, is it?" Jedistern asked, stepping forward.

"Something like that," Rial replied, stepping forward. "I believe introductions are in order. My name is Rial Vortan, general of this ragtag army you see here."

"I know who you are, general," Jedistern said, shaking his hand. "Though you had not yet ascended to such a high rank when I last saw you. I must say that your escape from massacre of the Royal Guard was quite impressive."

"Thank you," Rial said. "I had a lot of help."

"Nephew, this meeting's lost. We might as well end it," Riveth said as she came out of the tent, spotting the group. "Ah, Jedistern, good to see you."

"General," Jedistern said, nodding to her.

 _Is there anyone in this blasted kingdom Riveth doesn't know?_ Sheik wondered.

"Might as well end it, yeah," Rial said, shaking his head. "There's no headway to be made here at the moment."

Riveth went back inside, and a few minutes later a flood of nobs left the tent, all of them arguing amongst themselves. Rial shook his head and sighed.

"I try to keep the infighting to a minimum," he said. "But they're all too stubborn to actually set aside their differences for one second and unite properly."

"They're restless," Riveth said. "They came here to fight a war, and so far they've only had one battle with which to sate their cravings for glory and honour. As soon as we can come up with a proper strategy and make some progress, they'll settle down."

"I hope I can help with that, then," Jedistern said.

"You know how to take down the airship?"

"Given your lack of resources and weapons, I can't help you with destroying it from the ground," Jedistern said. "But I _can_ show you how to catch it off-guard as it refills its hydrogen supply."

"Splendid," Riveth said, grinning. "As long as we can get rid of that abomination, we'll actually have a chance to win."

"Tell them about the others," Sheik said, looking at the engineer. The news Jedistern had broken to them in the workshop had shocked them to the core, but they had decided to leave it until they got back to the camp, where it could be properly digested.

"Others? What others?" Rial asked.

"The bastard's built another two of them," Jeryd said, jerking his head at Jedistern. "Dedicated warships too, unlike _The Chimera_."

"Is this true?" Riveth asked, staring at the engineer.

"Unfortunately, yes," Jedistern said, nodding. "I was given the impression that they too would only be used for peacekeeping purposes. These past few days, however, have proven to be quite enlightening in terms of whose side I should be on. I have the plans with me, and I'd like to show them to you." He motioned to the bag he carried over his shoulder. Three large paper tubes were sticking out of it.

"All right, let's go inside, then," Rial said, motioning for them to enter.

Sheik spotted two familiar voices right away, and couldn't help but smile when he saw them. Angen and Sid were sitting by the map table, doing their best to appear innocent and like they _hadn't_ been eavesdropping on the conversation.

"Well, well, well, what's this?" Sid said, grinning. "The Sheikah's still alive and well, as well as the clerk. Impressive."

"Didn't expect to see you two again," Sheik said, shaking their hands. "Where have you been?"

"We snuck out of the valley during the battle with Agon," Angen explained. "Went south and helped to gather this little army here."

"We arrived here with tha' pervert's men yesterday," Sid continued. "Didn't like travellin' with that one at all."

It wasn't hard to guess that they were talking about Sir Iteos.

"Well, it's good to see you again," Sheik said. "Both of you."

"And I guess this here is yer beau," Sid said, looking at Link. "A looker, that's for sure."

Sheik blushed and nodded quietly.

"All right, enough warm, cuddly reunions for now," Rial said, only half-joking. "I'd like to know about these warships of yours, Mr. Tadian.

"Of course," Jedistern said and took out two of the paper tubes, opening them and unrolling them on the table. Sheik had always prided himself on being able to make sense out of most things, be it ancient languages or written spells (even if he could not cast them himself), but the blueprints lost him the second he tried looking past the drawing of the ships themselves. " _The Reaper_ and _The Annihilator_ ," Jedistern said. "Battleship class, both dedicated to combat entirely and appropriately equipped and named."

"Please tell me you didn't name them," Jeryd said.

"I did not," Jedistern said. "It was the councillor, in fact."

"Of course it was," Riveth muttered. "Always liked his destroyer names, that one." She coughed. It sounded wet.

"So...we've now got _three_ airships to worry about," Rial said, glancing at her before looking at the plans, probably understanding no more than Sheik did. "Is it wrong to be filled with a sense of foreboding?" he asked, his shoulders slumping in pre-defeat.

"Well, you're half-right," Jedistern said. "You don't have to deal with _The Reaper_ and _The Annihilator_ just yet."

"Why is that?"

"They are still under construction, you see." Jedistern pointed at the plans for _The Reaper_. "This one is about ninety-nine percent complete, while the other is approximately fifty percent complete. It will be quite a few weeks before either of them can fly."

"While those are indeed happy news, it does not help us much since we are still pinned down by _The Chimera_ ," Riveth said.

"Where are they being built?" Rial asked.

"Ironhill," Jedistern answered. "It's the only place where they could build the berths big enough. That's where _The Chimera_ was built as well."

"Ironhill, huh?" Jeryd asked.

"You know it?"

"Yeah, I spent a year or two there when I was..." he threw a quick glance around him, suddenly aware that there were people who didn't know his background present. "...growing up," he finished. "Didn't like it very much. It was very...dirty."

"Comes with being an industrial town," Jedistern said. "Conditions have improved much there after the machine halls were built. The foundries are still spitting out smoke and soot like there is no tomorrow, though."

"Fascinating story," Riveth said. "Puts us no closer to a solution regarding the airships."

"It's rather simple, isn't it?" Elenwe said. "Send in a few saboteurs and destroy the ships before they can be launched. Easy-peasy."

Jedistern looked at the Gerudo, probably wondering how she could be so upbeat. "Not as 'easy-peasy', I'm afraid," he said. "Security around the machine halls is very tight. Not even a mouse would be able to sneak in. I should know, I helped develop the routines."

"Then show us the loopholes," Sheik said.

"There _are_ no loopholes," the engineer said. "That's the whole point. If you want to get inside, you need to pass through several checkpoints where you have to present proper identification, or you'll be killed on the spot. And there's no way around them either, the halls are designed to funnel everyone through those checkpoints."

"So, no way in, no way t' take th' ships out in 'th air," Sid said slowly, as if summing it up for everyone. "We're fucked, then."

"Or, maybe not," Jeryd spoke up. "There are some...less-than-reputable people in the city of Ironhill. Perhaps they can help us." He looked around. "Yes, I'm talking about the assassins. There's a guild hall there. If anyone would know how to get inside the halls, it's them."

"I don't know," Rial said doubtfully, running a hand through his hair. "Seems a bit...risky to trust them. I mean, their track record is a bit spotty, if you know what I mean. Besides, we'd need someone who knows them to get the saboteurs inside." There was an implied question in the sentence, and Jeryd nodded.

"I might know someone," he said.

"How well would you know this person?" Sheik said, looking pointedly at Jeryd.

"Oh, almost better than I know myself."

"Right, so we've got a lead there," Rial said. "Now we need some volunteers to perform the actual sabotage." He looked at Sheik, Link, Elenwe and Jeryd. "I know I've been asking a lot of you lately, but—"

"Say no more," Sheik said. "We'll deal with it." The seal on his neck flared up in sudden pain, as if Speil was violently opposed to the idea, but Sheik ignored it. "We will need some instructions on how to actually destroy the ships, though." He didn't need to look at the others to know that they were in on the idea as well.

"You can't really destroy the ships themselves," Jedistern said, pulling the plans for _The Reaper_ closer. "They're much too big and sturdily constructed. What you can do, however, is to irreversibly damage the engines and boilers to the point where they are best used for scrap."

"And how do we do that?" Link asked.

"Well, that is a bit tricky. _The Annihilator's_ engine will be running non-stop during the next phase of construction, where they adjust and calibrate the pressure system, which makes it very easy to destroy it by simply closing the valves, increasing said pressure. With some luck, the boiler will rupture and the whole thing will blow out."

"And the other?"

"That one will be shut down during the mounting of the guns, which will take another few weeks, so there's no way to damage the engine that way. But, that has the fortunate side-effect of hundreds of barrels containing gunpowder being stored on board. Put enough of them inside the engine, light a fuse and run away. That is by far the easiest alternative." Jedistern narrowed his eyes and looked closer at the plans. "Still not an 'easy' task by far, but that's honestly what I believe will work."

"Won't they simply rebuild the engines if they are ruined, though?" Sheik asked.

"They can't," Jedistern replied. "The engines were custom-made and imported from one of the more technologically advanced states further south, and those orders took months to complete, even for them. Lumina likes to pride itself on its machines, but the truth is that we are far behind most others. It's quite embarrassing, really."

"You seem awfully keen on destroying your own creations," Rial said. "May I ask why?"

"I have already explained it to your...associates, but I will reiterate: my machines were made for peaceful purposes—a deterrent to other nations and a means to defend ourselves should someone be foolish enough to invade. But now I have learned that they will most likely be used for anything but—they even turned the guns on a village filled with civilians. That is not acceptable. So here I am, seeking to undo what I started with the construction of these airships."

"Well, I'm just happy we've finally got someone who knows how those things work," Riveth said. "However, there's still the issue of the original..." There was more to the sentence, but another bout of coughing interrupted her.

"That is why I came here personally, Miss Riveth," Jedistern said. "I believe the Sheikah has already explained it in his letter."

"You're going to teach us to convincingly portray a refuelling station, yes," Rial said. "We will lure in the airship and take it out while it's still on the ground, preferably with the cannons at the base."

"Indeed," Jedistern nodded.

"Well, there is no time to lose, then. How many men will we need."

"At least forty, though I would bring fifty, just in case."

"I will make the arrangments," Rial said.

"I would pick only men you know you can trust, general," Jedistern added, voice shrinking slightly when Rial looked at him. "I mean...I'm aware of the fact that Sir Iteos and his men are capable fighters and such, but they are not the kind of people I would want at my back when performing such a...delicate operation."

"Neither would I, for what that's worth," Riveth said.

"Th' man's an arse," added Sid. "Don't trust 'im as far as I can throw 'im."

"All right, all right," Rial said. "I won't use Iteos...not that I think I would have in the first place, but still." He turned to his aunt. "Do you have any men you trust with your life?" he asked.

"Every one of them," Riveth said. "But I'll pick only the cream of the crop. What's left of them, anyway..."

"As for you," Rial said and turned to Sheik and the others. "I can't overstate my gratitude for what you've done for us so far, and now this..."

"There's no need," Link said, grinning. "It's what we do."

"Just give us supplies, horses and point us in the right direction and we'll be on our way at first light tomorrow morning," Sheik said. "Elenwe, do you think...he will...?"

"I dunno, but I suggest you go ask him," Elenwe replied. "I'm not ready to deal with his sulking just yet."

* * *

Sheik found Kafei at the blacksmith's temporary forge towards the back of the camp, where the smoke would be trapped by the trees and cliffs, hopefully masking it a little better from a distance. The purple-haired Sheikah was speaking to the smith, the conversation amicable, if not downright friendly. The smith handed Kafei a wrapped parcel, about the length of his forearms, which Kafei took, nodding. They shook hands, and Kafei turned to leave. And spotted Sheik.

"You're back," he stated as he came closer. His entire frame had tightened up, the relaxed posture from a minute ago completely gone. He clutched the parcel tightly. "When?"

"An hour ago, more or less," Sheik replied, feeling just as awkward. He hated to admit it, but Kafei would be a valuable asset while infiltrating Ironhill, and he had a feeling they'd need all the help they could get, even with the assassin guild at their backs—if Jeryd could convince them, that is. "We got the engineer."

"What, couldn't interrogate him there?" Kafei asked.

"No, he came willingly, joining the rebellion."

"Huh...unexpected."

"But welcome."

"Indeed."

They stood there for about a minute, both trying to look anywhere but at each other. Then Kafei let his shoulders drop slightly, and looked at Sheik.

"Listen...it's my fault that you got so badly injured when you arrived in Lumina," he said slowly, sounding guilty, which was only right in Sheik's opinion. "It's going to take years to make it up to you...if you'll let me, that is. But I hope that this is a start." He held out the parcel, which Sheik took carefully. It was a bit heavy, and the contents banged together slightly. Unwrapping it, Sheik was surprised to find himself holding a pair short swords. They were light and well-balanced, built in the style of Sheikah blades, very similar to Kazoya, Impa's ancestral sword. One of them had a shorter hilt, and was balanced differently. "That one's for your left hand," Kafei explained. "I know you like to fight with two weapons at once, and I had it specially built for someone who had lost two fingers. You're not going to be able to strike powerfully with it, but for parrying it'll be quite handy."

Sheik stood there, looking at the swords, speechless. This was what Kafei had been doing while he was gone? Making swords for him?

"It, ah...the smith's quite good at making things for people with missing appendages-he sees it all the times with sparring sessions gone bad, and..." Kafei trailed off.

Sheik threw him the sword meant for his right hand and slowly unsheathed the one for his left. The hilt fit perfectly in his hand, and if it wasn't for the fact that the slight stumps where his ring and pinky fingers had been kept brushing against it, he wouldn't have known they were missing at all. The balance was optimal, and after a few practice swings, he came to the conclusion that, using this blade, he'd be back at full capacity again. He looked at Kafei, feeling an urge to hug him. He fought it down, however. It was a start, but not enough to put to rest all those years of loathing. He'd need time. But it was indeed a start.

"Thank you," he said. "It...it's perfect."

"I'm glad," Kafei said. "Will come in handy in the fighting that's sure to come."

Already trying to figure out how he was going to wear the blades on his person, Sheik said, "Speaking of which, we have a new assignment."

"And you want me along?" Kafei asked, surprised.

"Yes," Sheik said. "I think we're going to need all the help we can get with it. We're going to Ironhill and sabotaging a pair of airships there."

"There are more airships?" Kafei's eyes widened.

 _So, there are things not even_ you _know,_ Sheik thought.

"Long story, but yes, there are, and we need to ground those things before they can become a proper fleet. Jeryd's got connections with the guild over there and they'll know how to get us in."

"The guild? I don't know," Kafei said, sounding doubtful. "In case you don't remember, Elenwe and I have racked up quite a bit of debt with them...they might not take kindly to us just waltzing in and demanding help."

"Nevertheless, it's a risk we must take, or else we'll be killed when all three of those ships descend upon us with their cannons."

"I suppose you're right," Kafei sighed. "All right, I'm in. When are we leaving?"

"We're having a meeting in half an hour where we'll get a more thorough briefing about the place, but we're not leaving before tomorrow morning."

They both fell in step as they walked back towards the command tent. "Is...is Elenwe going too?" Kafei asked carefully.

"Yes."

"Crap..."

Sheik sighed and stopped walking. Kafei paused as well, looking at him curiously.

"Listen, I do not presume to know everything there is to know about you and your love life, or the amount of trauma you have been through since leaving for Termina," Sheik said. "But this thing between you and her...it needs to be resolved, and soon."

"It _is_ resolved," Kafei said, grimacing. "Just not very well."

"No, you've merely fought each other to a standstill, leaving you both too stubborn to do anything about it." Sheik sighed again and put a hesitant hand on Kafei's shoulder. "I've seen the looks you give her, and I've seen the looks she gives you. There is something there, and I fail to see what the problem is."

"Anju—"

"Is dead, and she is not coming back." Sheik half-expected Kafei to punch him in the face for saying it, but he merely narrowed his eyes at him. "You can get as angry as you like, but that is a fact. I know you don't want to forget her and that honouring her memory is important—and I agree. You loved her, it's only natural..."

"But...?" Kafei asked.

"Do you really think this is the existence she'd want for you? Alone and unable to find someone because you're too hung up on her?" Sheik took his hand off Kafei's shoulder, realising that he was running out of steam and wondering why he had brought it up to begin with. It was probably the swords. Kafei had done something nice for him, so he felt a need to do something nice back. Yes, that had to be it.

Kafei continued glaring at him, but said nothing. Shaking his head, he looked away, towards the command tent. "I realise what you're trying to do, and I appreciate it, but it's not going to work. It's...too complicated."

"Well, you need to un-complicate it as soon as possible, because if this argument between you two is going to compromise the mission—"

"It won't," Kafei cut him off. "We're professionals, damn it. If there's anyone we should be worried about, it's the Hero. He's not exactly a genius at stealth, after all."

"He can handle himself," Sheik countered, knowing he was only half-convinced himself. "He snuck through Agon's camp quite ably, from what I've heard."

"The whole camp was occupied with filling ditches with the dead; a troll could have snuck in."

"Point taken, but let's not make any decisions until we've had the briefing, yeah?"

"Fine..."

Whatever good feelings that had emerged as a result of the sword gift, had been completely crushed by the following conversation. Sheik felt guilty.

 _I'm terrible with people, aren't I?_ The seal flared up again. _I wasn't asking for_ your _opinion!_

* * *

Getting into the city itself wouldn't be a problem. Ironhill was basically divided into two parts: the manufacturing district, which contained the machine halls, the smelting plans and factories, and the living district, which housed the workers and kept them fed and entertained with merchants, taverns and, in one case, a theatre.

Getting into the manufacturing district without proper identification or papers would be impossible, but the living district barely had any security at all. Sure, there were city guards, but they were hardly interested in starting to do actual policing, heavens forbid.

"So, infiltrating the city itself won't be a problem," Jedistern said, pointing at a crudely drawn map of the city. "It's the manufacturing district that will present considerable difficulty."

"Which is where Jeryd's contact comes in," Sheik said. "Right?"

"Right," Jeryd replied, nodding. "If anyone can convince the guild to help us, it's him. It may take a little while, though. They're apparently a stubborn bunch."

"Either way, we get inside the machine halls," Sheik said. "Which ones are they?" he asked after a moment's pause.

"These," Jedistern said and pointed out two large ovals on the map, smack-dab in the middle of the district. "Only half of them are actually visible above ground, the rest reaching perhaps...ten stories below, I believe."

"They're huge," Rial said, impressed.

"They need to be, or there wouldn't be any space for the ships. There will be gantries everywhere, so if you're good at climbing, they present a good way to get inside the ships. I have less detailed copies of the plans. They will help you find your way through the ships' bowels." Jedistern pushed a stack of papers towards them. "Your target will be the engine rooms on both ships, indicated here, but on _The Annihilator_ you will need to take a brief detour through the powder storage room. That one will probably be under heavy guard."

"And otherwise?" Kafei asked.

"Light, I believe," Jedistern said. "No one knows about these ships except the workers, and they're not allowed to have any contact with anyone outside the city, so they won't be expecting anyone to actually get past the checkpoints. But stay on your guard, just in case. By now, it will probably be known that I have disappeared from my workshop, and they might get paranoid about guarding the ships."

"And what do we do when we reach the engines?" Link asked.

"On _The Annihilator_ , you open the engine and pile in as many barrels of gunpowder you can where the wood fuel is supposed to go. Then it's a simple matter of lighting a fuse and running as fast as you can away. _The Reaper_ will be more difficult since I assume none of you have had much experience with steam engines before?" He looked around at the saboteurs, realising he was right. "Well, like I said before, the engine itself will probably be running, so you won't have to deal with that yourselves. What you need to do is close all the valves that lead from the boiler. This will build up an immense amount of pressure, and with any luck, will rupture the whole thing, leaving it absolutely useless."

"How do we close them, and how we know which ones are the right ones?" Elenwe said.

"It's all rather simple," Jedistern said. "There will be many tubes running from the boiler and exiting through to various parts of the ship. There will be red wheels on them, and it's a simple matter of turning these counter-clockwise to shut them off. It leaves the pressure nowhere to go but back into the boiler and...well, boom."

"Just in case, I think it's a good idea to bring some gunpowder as well," Kafei said. "In case we don't understand the valves or screw it up somehow."

"I'd be very careful, in that case. Remember, there will be a large fire burning in there."

"Of course."

"I suppose that is it for the briefing on my end," Jedistern said. "Extraction is not my area of expertise, I'm afraid."

"I will be handling that, I think," Jeryd said.

"I see. Well, I wish you the best of luck. I have copies of the plans and have written down instructions, just in case. You will find them all in this pile." He tapped the stack of papers he had pushed forward before.

The room became quiet as the group of saboteurs thought about what they were going to set out to do the following morning. Sheik kept glancing at Link. Kafei had been right. The Hero's strength did not lie in the art of stealth. At all. Perhaps as a child, when he had snuck into the castle courtyard to meet with Zelda, but now...

"I wish you all the best of luck as well," Rial said. "You've all gone beyond what could reasonably be asked of you, and I am forever grateful."

"Might want to save your thanks until we've actually done it," Kafei said, a small grin on his face. "There will be hell to pay for everyone if we fail."

"Well, I have the utmost confidence in your abilities."

"It's appreciated."

"I suggest you all get some sleep. I will have horses and supplies ready for you at dawn." Rial looked down at his boots for a second, as if deep in thought, before looking up at them again. "I can't overstate how important this mission is. It will make or break the rebellion, as far as we know. If those ships are allowed to leave those berths..."

"As long as you're able to finish off _The Chimera_ , there is no need to worry," Sheik said. "I will send word with Kaiza when we leave the city. Hopefully, we will report great success."

"Thank you. All of you," Rial said.

The saboteurs left the command tent and went back their own. Sheik halted outside, however, and put a hand on Link's shoulder, silently asking him to wait. The others noticed, but ignored it and went inside. Jeryd gave them a confused look, to which Sheik only shook his head. He took the hint and joined Elenwe and Kafei. Sheik led Link a distance away from the tent.

"What is it?" the Hero asked. "Is something wrong?"

"Not as such," Sheik said, rubbing his neck, wondering how to say it to him. "I...don't think you should go to Ironhill with us."

"What? Why not?" Link demanded.

"It's too dangerous, and I—"

"Too dangerous? Hah!" Link spat. "Last year we saved the world from Ganondorf, and I don't think we've ever been in as much danger as I was back then. And now you're saying that sneaking into a city will top that?"

"Actually, it's the sneaking part," Sheik said, wincing at the intense look Link gave him. "We...I don't think that you're...skilled enough at it." He couldn't bear the look of hurt on Link's face and let his gaze drop to the snowy ground. "You'd get us caught."

"I..." Link began, but the sentence died after the first vowel. "I thought...I thought I was improving," he finished lamely.

"You are," Sheik reassured him. "You definitely are, but considering the risks and consequences the outcome of this mission will have, it...it's too important to fail, because if we do, those ships won't stop at destroying Rial and his army, but Zelda as well. We... _I_ can't risk that...I'm sorry..."

Link looked miserable, but he nodded almost imperceptibly. "I guess you're right...and I guess I do sound like a one-legged man hopping about while wearing an ill-fitting suit of armour when trying to sneak around," he said quietly, recalling the joke they had made earlier.

"I'm sorry," Sheik repeated, still keeping his gaze on the ground.

"Hey," Link said, stepping forward and gently grabbing Sheik's chin, forcing him to look him in the eyes. "It's okay," he said. "I know my own limitations, and I know I wouldn't be of much use...it's just...we were separated for so long. I...I don't think I could bear the thought of losing you again, and if we're going to die here I want us to be together, and—"

"Link, we'll be back, I promise," Sheik said, leaning up and kissing the Hero gently on the lips, mostly to get him to stop rambling. He moaned slightly in surprise when Link deepened the kiss and wrapped his arms around him, pulling him close. They parted a few seconds later, both slightly out of breath. The Hero rested his forehead on the Sheikah's.

"You're cute when you blush," he murmured.

"Shut up," Sheik muttered.

* * *

The guilt kept Sheik up in the night, even though Link apparently had no problems falling asleep despite having just been told that he basically failed at being covert. After the Hero began snoring quietly, Sheik carefully untangled himself from his arms and got dressed, being careful not to wake up the others. Of course, a certain individual was impossible to avoid. Kafei's eyes opened slowly, and the Sheikah turned his head to regard his cousin. They stared at each other in silence for a minute before Kafei nodded and went back to sleep. Sheik had no idea what the nod meant, but he was happy that Kafei wasn't going to follow him.

He needed some time to himself, some time to just...think and mull things over. The cold bit at his face as he stepped outside the tent and began to walk. He walked the perimeter of the camp at least twice, just letting the past six months' events go through his head again and again. So much had happened so fast, it was hard to really process anything without it becoming a garbled mess in one's head.

The worst part of it all, Sheik eventually decided, was that they had been dragged into yet another war, barely half a year since ending one that had lasted seven years. Seven long years... He was lucky to be alive, he knew, as were everyone else who had survived the final battle. Did they feel likewise? Did Link? He was certain the Hero had a newfound appreciation for life...though he had probably never lost it to begin with, unlike so many of the young men and women Sheik had seen perish at the hands of Ganondorf's legions. If anything, Link's outlook had probably just been brightened even more by the victory. Then again, Link had been lucky enough to be able to skip seven years ahead. He had lost seven years of his life which he would never get back, but he'd also been spared having to witness the atrocities Ganondorf inflicted upon Hyrule.

Maybe that was the main reason Sheik loved him so much. The perpetual, never-ending rays of happiness that shone from the Hero's entire being whenever he was with friends or just seeing something he thought of as "neat" always made Sheik's mood improve by proxy.

He shook his head. _Mustn't think such thoughts, otherwise I won't be able to leave without him tomorrow._

He stopped walking, realising he had somehow ended up outside the command tent. It was in the middle of the night, so he was surprised to see a light shining from within. He cleared his throat a bit louder than he would usually and pulled the cloth aside. Riveth looked up from her desk, giving him a small smile.

"Couldn't sleep either, huh?" she asked quietly.

"No," Sheik replied, keeping his voice low. He knew Ard would be sleeping behind the screen. "You?"

"He has nightmares," she said, nodding her head towards the screen. "Keeps me up. And...well, I'm worried."

"About what?" Sheik asked, letting himself inside.

"Everything, and everyone," she replied. "I'm worried about Ard, Rial, the army, the King, you...a lot of responsibility has been placed on our shoulders. I'm confident Rial will find a way to lead us to victory, especially now that he has a proper army under his command, but at the same time...I'm worried he will crack under the pressure."

"He seems to be doing fine at the moment," Sheik said, seating himself in a chair on the opposite side of the desk. "Hasn't shown any signs of cracking the entire time I have known him. Not even during the troll attack, which, frankly, had me rather distressed."

"Not distressed enough, apparently," she said, grinning at him. "I hear you cut one of the beasts' heads off. Not a bad feat considering the fact that you had never fought one before."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome. But I guess you're right...Rial's a military man, he's been prepped for situations like these. It's just so...soon...but that's my fault, since I was the one who promoted him to begin with, so..." She sighed. "These thoughts keep going around and around in my head and they won't stop. They're half the reason I can't sleep right now."

"Again, I think he will do fine," Sheik said. "I've seen more experienced officers than him crack under far less pressure. There seems to be something driving him, something beyond the loyalty to his monarch..."

"You have your suspicions?"

"I do, and if it is what I think it is...well, we are lucky to have him in command, since it will never let him give up."

"I'll take your word for it," Riveth said, smiling at him. "You and the Hero are quite close."

"We are."

"Touches my heart to see it. The world needs more people like you two, it—"she covered her mouth with her hand and coughed. It still sounded wet. "Sorry 'bout that," she said after wiping her hand on a handkerchief. "Must have caught a cold. It's not healthy, being on the run in Freyborough in the middle of bloody winter. I'm telling you, it's not the enemy that will kill us, it's the weather."

Sheik nodded quietly. That hadn't sounded anything like a regular cold cough to his ears, but he said nothing.

The crash and hollow clangs of big pieces of metal banging together broke the silence that lay over the camp, and Jedistern's voice could be heard in the distance, yelling at the unlucky person who had presumably dropped something.

"That's an impressive mouth on that one," Sheik said.

"Indeed," Riveth replied. "Lived his entire life on land and he sounds like a damn sailor when he gets angry...I guess he's not a _complete_ egghead."

"What is he doing?"

"Setting up a laboratory-slash-workshop, apparently. He asked for a tent and if he could gather some materials and tools in order to continue his work."

"And you said yes?"

"Considering the information he has brought up and the asset he might well become in the future...there was no way I couldn't. He says he's already started work on a device that will allow him to harness the power of lightning, or something like that. Foolish, if you ask me. Ard can control lightning just fine."

"I did not think such a device was possible," Sheik said.

"Neither do I, but he disagrees and intends to prove me wrong, it seems." She glanced at the screen. "I think he is trying to show us that science can do the exact same things as magic—which he apparently hates."

"Better not show him what Ard can do, then."

"Indeed, I plan on keeping those two far apart for as long as I can."

"Good idea..."

Silence stretched on. Neither of them said anything, both lost in their own thoughts. Sheik wondered if Riveth was like him—that they both needed time by themselves to properly think things through. Was he being a bother by staying here? He cleared his throat and stood up, causing Riveth to look at him in slight surprise.

"I really should be getting back to my tent," he said. "Early start, and all that."

"Ah, right. Good night."

"Good night."

"Oh and...may I call you Sheik?"

"You may."

"Sheik...do you think you can do it? Sneak in and disable those ships?"

Sheik took a few moments to think before nodding. "I would not accept such a mission if I did not believe I would succeed," he said, knowing full well that he was lying. "Oh, and general—"

"Miss."

"Miss Riveth," Sheik corrected himself, "would you keep an eye on the Hero while I am gone?"

"I thought he was going with you?"

"We assessed our strengths and came to the conclusion that his unique...skill set will not be necessary on this mission, so he is staying behind."

"Ah, I see...well, of course I will. I'm sure Rial can find something for him to do to keep him from being idle, too."

"Thank you."

"Any time."

"And another thing," Sheik said, catching himself just as he set foot outside the tent. "I'd get that cough looked at, if I were you. It doesn't sound healthy. Good night."

He was sure he heard Riveth mutter "damn kid" under her breath as he left, which made him grin. He walked back to their tent and crawled back under the covers, cuddling up against Link, intending to steal some warmth for himself from the Hero. He was slightly surprised when Link suddenly rolled over and caught him a warm, tight embrace.

"Where were you?" the Hero whispered.

"Out for a walk," Sheik whispered back. "Needed to clear my head."

"Ah. Did you?"

"Yes, yes I did."

"Good."

It didn't take long for either of them to fall asleep, and it was by far the most restful night Sheik had had in a long time.

* * *

**Soul Remnants  
Chapter 46**

* * *

It would take a little over a week more to reach Ironhill at their current pace. The industrial city drew many travellers—labourers, merchants, entrepreneurs—who all wanted to take advantage of the sudden growth it had experienced in the last decade because of the demand for technology in all of Lumina. Weapons, methods of transport, even water heaters were wanted and needed everywhere. Factories grew, new buildings to house workers and families sprang up overnight, as did the facilities to entertain them. The population had tripled in the past two years, and it showed no signs of stopping.

Unfortunately, this meant that the roads leading to the city were heavily travelled and patrolled, which in turn meant that Sheik and the others had to be careful not to draw attention to themselves. As a result, they were forced to travel slowly and only during hours when it was common to see people on the roads. An attempt at going off-road had only resulted in Elenwe nearly breaking her neck as her horse lost its footing and almost tumbled off a cliff, and the terrain had showed no signs of improving afterwards.

"Better take it slow," Kafei had said, making a veto decision on behalf of the group. Sheik hadn't argued. There was no point in risking someone's death just because they wanted to save time, especially not considering how important their mission was.

On the plus side, following the road meant that they had the opportunity to sleep at inns and guesthouses, which was a welcome change to the freezing tents and bedrolls that would have been their other option. Of course, the inns weren't the luxurious kind, despite the big bag of gold that Rial had given to them (a collection from the nobles who believed in the mission, apparently). Their faces, or Sheik's and Jeryd's at least, were known to all of Lumina at this point, and they were forced to frequent the less-than-reputable establishments that had a history of "forgetting" to look at their customers before accepting their money. Nightly bar fights and "accidental" murders were also a feature of these places, which was why the group mostly kept to their rooms when resting.

"I'd almost forgotten what it's like to have a normal day-night rhythm," Jeryd said as he leaned back in a chair. They were spending the night in one of the better dives they had encountered so far, six days into their journey, and Elenwe and Kafei were taking the chance on picking up rumours and gossip in the bar on the first floor.

Sheik silently nodded as he slowly drew a curtain aside and looked out of the window. The street below them was filled with riffraff and the usual suspects, the kind of which the respectable town guards didn't mingle with. Except on their free time, of course, during which they were often seen cavorting with whores and thieves—usually because they were in the pockets of the local crime lords anyway. Sheik kept hearing the phrase "Power corrupts" being tossed around wherever he went, but he wondered if maybe everyone with power were just a tiny bit corrupt to begin with...but that train of thought also led him down an unpleasant path that, if followed, would lead him to not even be able to trust Zelda, so he tried to abandon it whenever he heard the phrase spoken. It was...annoying.

"And food that isn't prepared over a barely burning fire, with actual grease and other goodness...gods, have I missed that," Jeryd continued. "It's almost like I'm back with the guild."

"Pleasant memories, huh?" Sheik asked, satisfied that no one was spying on them from the outside at least. Kafei and Elenwe was their second line of defence.

"Most of them, yeah. But not all of them," Jeryd replied. "The guild treats you like family and makes sure that your every need is taken care of. In return, they expect you to become the best spy and assassin you can be, and when you graduate, you feel like you're finally able to give something back."

"And if you fail?" Sheik asked.

"You are given a second chance," Jeryd said. "And if you fail that...well, you become the next exam's target." He looked down at his feet. "Hence why not all of my memories are pleasant."

"Target?"

"In order to become a fully-fledged member of the guild, you need to prove that you can handle killing someone in cold blood and that you will not flinch from performing your duty."

Sheik remained quiet, not entirely surprised at the way the guild those to graduate their candidates.

"There was this one guy, a year older than my litter—that's what they call the groups of kids in training—who failed his test twice. A year later, when it was our turn to prove ourselves...he was my target." Jeryd looked positively ashamed. "I had gotten to know him over the years and...it was a shock."

"Did you kill him?" Sheik asked.

"Yeah," Jeryd said quietly, suddenly finding his hands very interesting. "Wasn't even given a fair fight. He was tied up, forced down on his knees. I was given the choice of method. He kept begging and pleading me to stop...I had to pause several times, but...I killed him, in the end. I slit his throat and stabbed him in the heart afterwards. I tried to make it as quick and painless as possible." He must have noticed the look Sheik was giving him, for he was unable to meet the Sheikah's gaze. "That's...one of the unpleasant memories."

"I can imagine," Sheik said, unable to look at the human in the same way. Sheik had never imagined Jeryd to be innocent—he had certainly killed without second thought before, but Sheik had only seen him do so out of necessity—the necessity usually being the desire not to meet his end by way of decapitation. "How old were you?" he asked.

"Sixteen," Jeryd replied. "That's the cut-off age. If you haven't proven yourself by the time you reach seventeen...it's over." He shook his head. "I still dream about it sometimes."

"Your first kill never truly leaves you," Sheik said, still able to vividly recall his own.

"I guess it was the same for you," Jeryd said. "But I guess it wasn't a Sheikah that was tied up for you..."

Sheik blinked. "Tied up? What do you mean?"

"Isn't that the way you were initiated as well?" Jeryd asked, looking up at him in confusion. "You know, into the Sheikah order?"

"No," Sheik said. "Sheikah kill out of necessity, not for some silly initiation. True, trial by fire has always been my people's way, but never like that. Who told you we did?"

"The guild masters," Jeryd said, looking surprise. "They said that...we were following the Sheikah way to the letter and—"

"Well, you weren't," Sheik said, suddenly feeling offended. Was this how his people looked like from the outside? Petty murderers? "And I'll thank you not to compare us to such barbaric practice again, ever. We would never force our young to murder like that!"

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you," Jeryd said, eyes wide. "I-I honestly thought that was how you did it."

"I thought you did a lot of research on the Sheikah," Sheik said. "Surely that little tidbit would have popped up at some point, hm?"

"Well, no..." Jeryd said slowly. "The books I studied were all written by guild members and...oh, gods, what a fool I've been..." He buried his face in his hands. "Biased to all hell, of course..."

"Not to mention purely fictitious, apparently," Sheik said, pacing around the room. He had almost been flattered by the idea of an entire organisation of spies and assassins basing their training and operating procedures on the Sheikah ways, but if their teachings were as rife with errors and lies as this...he didn't dare to think about the consequences. "Suddenly, I'm feeling apprehensive about walking into this guild of yours," he said.

Jeryd shook his head. "No need to worry about it...they'll be too awestruck by your presence to say anything..." He sighed, looking ashamed. "Sheik, I'm sorry—"

"Just drop it," Sheik said. "I'm not in the mood for this conversation."

"All right..."

The awkward silence hung over them for about fifteen minutes before Jeryd made an attempt at conversation again.

"So, I didn't want to ask in case I offended, but...did Kafei give you those?" he asked and pointed at the twin short swords whose hilts were currently sticking out of the Sheikah's pack.

Sheik glanced over at them before nodding. "Yes, he did."

"With some modifications for your...handicap, I'm guessing?"

"Correct."

"That was...nice of him, wasn't it?" Jeryd tried to smile, but it faltered quickly. "There's...tension between you two."

"You know the story," Sheik said. "It's only natural that there is."

"Yeah, but he seems like he's trying to ease it, unlike..."

"Unlike me?" Sheik said. Now it was his turn to sigh. "Believe me, I want to believe that the story is true, that it was purely accidental and that he actually wanted to take me with him and all that, but...until I can speak to my aunt and have story confirmed a hundred percent, I just can't bring myself to fully trust him again." He walked over to his pack and drew the left twin of the sword pair. He still couldn't get over just how perfectly adapted to his use it was. "Because if it turns out that he is lying again...I don't think I will be able to stop until he's dead on the ground in front of me. It will be like he betrayed me all over again."

"Grim," Jeryd muttered.

"Indeed..." He put the sword back in his pack. "Though, if it turns out that he has been truthful all along, I will just have to beat him up for getting me jailed." He turned to Jeryd and gave a small grin. "I'd say that's a vast improvement."

"I guess so," Jeryd replied, grinning back in apparent relief.

They passed an hour or so with small talk, an activity Sheik usually dreaded, but found incredibly easy to do with Jeryd, though they were careful not to enter the Sheikah topic again. At one point they even talked about favourite berries. Or Jeryd's, anyway. It was sickeningly adorable to listen to the human go on and on about how strawberries were the best thing in the world, even after Sheik tried to steer him away to something more interesting, especially since Jeryd's musings on the glorious berries very much reflected his own. Only one other person in the world could keep such a focus on something so inane and still be able to keep Sheik's attention, and that was a certain green-clad Hylian.

"...cream is the absolutely best thing to combine with them, though," Jeryd finished, looking at Sheik. Realising what he was doing, he blushed and grinned in embarrassment. "Sorry about that...I get a bit passionate about food if I'm given the chance."

"Not at all," Sheik said, smiling. "It's nice to listen to something that isn't just war and misery for once." He relaxed in his own chair, feeling very comfortable at the moment. "Distraction at times like this is...nice," he finished lamely, unable to find any other words to describe it. Which was an embarrassment for his vocabulary, but he didn't care right now.

"That's a relief, wouldn't want to bore you, heh. The food in the guild is very plain and boring, so the first thing I did when I got my cover as Ise's assistant was to indulge in 'luxury' items as often as I could. It was nice not to have my diet carefully watched all the time." He chuckled. "Can't count how many times I gave myself a stomach ache from desserts. Pretty sure I gained quite a few pounds those first few months as well, but then I got my act back together and returned to a steady, normal diet. Plain, perhaps, but it got results. What about you?"

Sheik blinked. "Me?"

"What do you like to eat?"

"Oh, this and that," Sheik said, suddenly aware of the fact that he had no real favourites when it came to food, apart from strawberries, of course, but reiterating everything Jeryd had said wouldn't exactly stimulate the conversation. Sure, there were some items he preferred over others, but he had never felt a need to go after those items specifically.

"Uh-huh, a boring answer if I ever heard one," Jeryd teased. "Come on, there's got to be something."

"Well...I suppose I enjoy apples to a certain degree," Sheik said after a minute. "They were difficult to get during the war, most of the orchards being under Ganondorf's control, but those few times I was able to either steal or find one..."

"Anything else?"

"Not that I can think of right now. I'm not a picky eater."

"I can tell," Jeryd said, looking pointedly at Sheik's middle. "More like, not an eater at all, right? You've been losing weight ever since I met you, and you weren't exactly plump to begin with."

Sheik groaned. "Not you too," he said. "Link keeps going on and on about my eating habits, but I'm still standing, aren't I? I can still fight, and I feel fine—"

"For now, yeah, but you're becoming a walking skeleton at this rate," Jeryd said. "I don't want to seem like a busybody, but it worries me—"

"Again, Link does the same. I'm quite capable of handling myself, Jeryd, don't worry. Yes, perhaps I am getting to be a bit skinny, but that is easily reversed." He felt a pang in his chest at the thought of the Hero. They had only been on the road for a short while, but he already missed him a lot.

"Exactly, which is why you're going downstairs to buy a huge portion of that delicious, meaty stew the owner's got brewing over the fire right now. Actually, make that two portions, I'm ravenous."

"You just ate," Sheik pointed out.

"And now I'm going to eat again," Jeryd grinned.

Sheik stared at him in disbelief for a few seconds before chuckling and standing up, heading for the door. "Anything else while I'm there?" he asked.

"Wine. Or brandy. Or whiskey. Anything that'll burn like the fires of hell in my throat, really."

"Right..."

"Hey, I deserve a drink after everything we've been through the past six months!"

"Certainly. I'll be right back."

* * *

The proprietor didn't even blink at Sheik's order, confirming that their choice of inn didn't particularly care for rules concerning underage drinking and other things. Judging by the two women having their way with each other in a corner, being cheered on by several men who were enjoying the sight, it didn't care much for public decency either.

"I know I'm not exactly a prude," Elenwe said as she sidled up to Sheik's side, clutching a half-empty mug of ale in her hand, "but I would wait to do _it_ until I had some privacy." She wrinkled her nose. "My sisters used to do that with their lovers, and I always found myself embarrassed when they did. As was Mother."

"Really?" Sheik said, not really wanting to have this conversation.

"Oh yes, sometimes with each other, even," Elenwe said. "That's a taboo not even _I'm_ willing to cross."

"Charming," Sheik said, desperately trying not to let the mental image gain foothold in his mind's eye. "Where's Kafei?" he asked, trying to change the subject.

"Oh, he's around," she replied, taking a big swig of the ale. "He's fishing for leads on a group of army spies."

"Spies?" Sheik asked.

"Yeah, they've been deployed to search for us, apparently, and they're currently travelling the same way we are. Kafei thinks they're in this town."

"And if they are?"

"We'll find them and kill them before they have a chance to find _us_ ," she said. She noticed the look he was giving her and grinned. "But don't you worry your pretty little head about that. Kafei and I've got this. You just go back up to your room and enjoy your...dinner? I sure hope that whiskey isn't for _you_."

"It's for Jeryd, actually," Sheik said.

"Ah, good. Not that I mind you drinking, but I wouldn't wish the hangover the day after on anyone. Well, maybe except Kafei."

Sheik couldn't help but chuckle at that. The Gerudo was a master of passive-aggressiveness, it seemed. "Should you be drinking that if you're going after enemy soldiers?" he asked, gesturing towards the mug in her hand.

"Oh, this? Hardly any alcohol in it at all. Besides, Kafei's got it handled anyway. Pretty sure he can take them out all by himself."

"Reassuring, that," Sheik said sarcastically.

"Like I said, don't worry about it. Now, off you go upstairs and have your dinner. And don't do anything with Jeryd you'll regret." She gave him a smack on the rump and ambled away into the crowd watching the women.

"Hypocrite," Sheik muttered and took the bowls of stew in his hands and the big bottle of whiskey under his arm. He hadn't asked for a big bottle, but the proprietor had growled something about not having anything smaller. He hoped Jeryd wouldn't overdo it.

* * *

"You're an angel," Jeryd said in gratitude as he filled a glass with the brown spirits. "And my saviour," he added after the first spoonful of stew. Sheik couldn't help but wonder where he put it all as he quietly ate his own portion. He shook his head when Jeryd made to fill his glass.

"No, thank you. I...I'm not all that fond of drinking. And besides, this is probably not a good place to get drunk," he said.

"Relax, Elenwe and Kafei's got security handled tonight if what you've told me is true," Jeryd said, ignoring Sheik and filling his glass half-full. "Just have a sip; you haven't even tasted it before."

"No, but I've seen the results," Sheik said, nonetheless picking up the glass, sniffing at the liquid. It smelled like smoke and oak. Not entirely unpleasant, really, but still...

"What's the matter, afraid?" Jeryd asked, grinning.

Sheik felt annoyance creeping up on him. He hated having his mettle questioned. "Not at all," he said and took a swig. The whiskey burned in his throat and made him cough. He hadn't been expecting it to be _that_ strong.

"Heh, you're not supposed to down the whole thing in one go, you know," Jeryd said, chuckling at the mouthful Sheik had taken. "You're supposed to nurse it, enjoy it."

"How can one possibly enjoy such a vile beverage?" Sheik asked, setting the glass back on the table with a thump. He coughed again. The aftertaste clung to his mouth, almost as bad as caramel did. The only difference was that caramel was actually pleasant, unlike the...well; perhaps it wasn't _that_ bad, now that the burning had stopped.

"That was pretty much my reaction too, the first time," Jeryd said. "But then I gave it another chance, and...well..."

"Thank you, but I'll refrain from it all the same," Sheik said and pushed the glass towards Jeryd, filling another one with water from his water skin.

"As you wish," Jeryd said. "Just as well, really. As a responsible adult, I'm not supposed to encourage kids to drink."

 _He's doing it on bloody purpose,_ Sheik thought as he felt annoyed again at the pedantic tone the human had used. "If you're trying to get a rise out of me..." he said warningly.

"No, I'm trying to get you to calm down and get some rest," Jeryd said. "You've been stressed ever since we left the camp, and you haven't been sleeping very well, despite our more comfortable quarters. Why is that?"

"It's nothing," Sheik said, ignoring that Jeryd was speaking the truth. "I'm always like this when I travel. Keeps me on edge, prepared for anything."

"Unless you're too tired from lack of sleep and food to actually react to anything that happens," Jeryd said, pushing the glass back towards him. "You'll get us all killed."

"I could say the same about you if you're too drunk," Sheik said. He wondered if the whiskey would be just as bad a second time around. This time he'd actually be prepared for the taste and burning sensation, after all.

"Ah, but it's not likely to happen with Kafei and Elenwe on guard, is it?"

 _Ah, what the hell,_ Sheik thought and drank.

It didn't take long for either of them to feel the effects of the alcohol. An hour later, Sheik was sprawled all over his chair, having lost count of how much he had drunk, while Jeryd had somehow ended up on the floor, close to the fireplace. He was clutching the bottle in his hands, trying to pour himself another glass, but failing miserably.

"Oops," he said. "Guess I just...wasted half a gold coin's worth of booze." The words were probably meant to come out articulated, like it usually did when the human spoke, but the whiskey ensured they came out slurred. It was hard for Sheik to even understand what he was saying sometimes.

"Good thing we've plenty more, then," Sheik said, grinning at Jeryd's clumsiness. It was entertaining to see the usually graceful young man making a fool out of himself. "Keep that thing away from the fire," he added.

"What thing?"

"The thing the...stuff went in," Sheik clarified.

"Stuff?"

"Y'know...the burny stuff." It was annoying how the human didn't seem to understand anything. How hard could it be to figure out what Sheik meant?

"Oh yeah, the...the _container_ ," Jeryd said triumphantly. "The container of the...the stuff!"

"Exactly," Sheik said. "You're pretty smart."

"So're you."

"Thank you..."

"Thank _you_..."

"So...how come you're so...stressed when you go somewhere?" Jeryd did his best to sit up as he spoke, but his elbow buckled under his weight and he ended up on his back, giggling at himself. "Why're you such an uptight ass, is what I mean," he added.

"'m not an ass," Sheik protested weakly. "I just...I dunno...can't relax, I guess. Feel...lonely."

"Lonely?" Jeryd asked.

"Yeah," Sheik said, looking up at the ceiling. There was a stain up there that looked suspiciously like dried blood. "Miss...Link."

"Ah... _that_ kind of lonely," Jeryd said, giggling again. " _That_ I understand...not too long ago since you got your...boots knocked, though, is it?"

Sheik felt himself blush, though he wasn't sure if it was because of the embarrassment or the drink. "N-not just that," he said, wondering if the letter N was always so difficult to pronounce. "Miss having him to sleep against...the only person who can soof...soos...soothe me like that, I guess..."

Jeryd looked thoughtful for a second. "Well," he said slowly, "I can help with that..."

Sheik looked at him. "Hm?"

"If you need someone to...er...what's the word...cuddle up with, I'm free," the human said awkwardly as he made his second attempt to stand up since dropping on the floor. He succeeded and staggered over to Sheik's chair, holding onto the back of it for dear life. "I mean...s'not like anything would happen...and I feel kinda lonely too..."

"You do?" Sheik asked, honestly surprised. "You don't seem that way..."

"Why wouldn't I?" slurred Jeryd. "I'm...the only guild assassin in the rebel army, I've no...no real friends to speak of, a total outsider to everyone..."

"You're not an outsider to me," Sheik said. "We're friends—"

"Yeah, but you've got...you've got the Hero...Elenwe and Kafei have each other, even if it's scary to watch, Rial's got his aunt, Ard...well, Ard's got everyone, it seems, since Riveth's men adore him...I mean, who do _I_ have?" He shook his head. "Wow, I _am_ drunk," he muttered.

"I'm...sorry," Sheik said slowly. "I had no idea you felth...felt that way."

"Neither did I, really," Jeryd replied, sitting down on the armrest. "It's...a side of me I fig...fight down most of the time since it's useless...if I'm gonna be completely honest with you, it's probably why I've been trying to get myself killed lately..."

Sheik gasped. "You what?"

"You heard me," Jeryd said. "Guess...the loneliness is part of it...not really happy, I suppose..."

"I'm sorry," Sheik said quietly, not really sure what to do with the information. "Isn't there...anyone?" he asked.

"Hm?"

"Anyone you...y'know, like?" _I am terrible at this,_ he thought.

"Nah, not really." Jeryd shook his head yet again. "Or, wait..."

"Yeah?"

"There is _one_...but I don't think he'd be interete...intest... _interested_..." He had to put emphasis on the last word since it apparently refused to be said without a fight.

"Yeah? Why not?"

"Already taken, unfortunately," Jeryd said, swaying where he sat. It worried Sheik so much that he'd fall off the chair and hit his head on the floor that he pulled him down from the armrest and into the chair, next to him. They were lucky it was a wide chair. Jeryd's head lolled onto Sheik's shoulder. "Lucky bastard..."

"Who?" Sheik said. "Anyone I know? Is it Rial?"

"Hah, no," Jeryd snorted. "He seems pretty infau...inft... _busy_ with the King, though, now that you mention it. Nah, it's not him."

"Angen?"

"Nope. Too old."

Sheik thought for a few seconds. "Kafei?" he asked, wondering if he should be horrified or not.

"No, but you're in the right area," Jeryd said, giggling.

"I'm...pretty sure Elenwe is a girl, and you said 'he'..." Sheik said, honestly confused.

"By the gods you are dense," Jeryd muttered, lifting his head and kissing Sheik gently.

* * *

**Soul Remnants  
Chapter 47**

* * *

Rehm looked through the observation slot in the door. The cell beyond was dark, just like he intended it to be. Slow breathing could be heard from within the chamber. The occupant was asleep judging by the lack of reaction to the sliver of light that must have slipped through the slot.

"Has he made any other attempts to bribe you?" he asked the guard stationed outside the door.

"He never stops, my lord," the guard said, looking at him. "He even offered me a title if I stabbed you with my spear the next time you came down here."

"Ah, how charming," Rehm said, shaking his head. "I certainly hope you didn't entertain the thought?"

"Of course not, my lord," the guard replied, looking offended. "I don't want a title—becoming a nob is my worst nightmare, no offense of course. I am perfectly happy with the army pay...and your lordship's...personal contributions," he added with a conspiratorial wink.

"Good, good," Rehm said, nodding at the guard. "Let me know if he changes his mind. The sooner we can end this fiasco, the better."

"Of course, my lord."

"Carry on." Rehm turned and walked away from the cell, ignoring the guard's salute. As he turned the corner leading to the stairs, his easy-going smirk fell into an annoyed frown, and he began grumbling as he climbed the dark staircase. How he _loathed_ Victor right now. As it turned out, the army the King had gathered at the Denal estates had been anything but ineffectual and weak. They had managed to avoid most of the patrols on their way north, and by now they had most likely linked up with Riveth's army. As long as he had to divert resources away from Prison's Peak, the longer it would take for his plans to come to fruition.

Agon was dead, of that there was no doubt. The latest reports from _The Chimera_ told him that the former site of the general's war camp was a mess. Mass graves had been dug and filled with dead soldiers of Riveth's, but a distance away they had found even larger piles of bodies wearing Agon's colours. The man himself was nowhere to be seen, of course, but there had apparently been tracks leading deep into the woods of Freyborough, and Rehm could only guess that the idiot had walked right into a trap laid by the crafty Drena Riveth.

He should have killed her when he'd had the chance, all those years ago. He had contemplated poisoning her in her sleep before she had caught on to his plans, but had decided it would look suspicious. At least he had been able to frame her—rather masterfully considering the fact that he had been caught completely off-guard by her barging into the council chambers. And yet she had wriggled her way out of a death sentence and been exiled since. What a little minx that woman was. And all because of a little extramarital coitus with Robar... But no matter, he figured. He had ordered _The Chimera_ to continue searching for her and the others and not to stop until they found her...and killed her.

The council chambers were cold and dark as he walked inside. Meetings were rarely held anymore, given the fact that well over half of the council had joined the enemy's side. Ise and a few others remained; though he had a strong suspicion the red-haired councillor was simply biding her time until she too would betray him. As he sat in his seat and waited, he called for a servant to stoke up the fire in the room. It would probably be the last time.

As the small number of councillors began to trickle into the room, he said nothing. No greetings, no respectful nods. He was done playing the fool for these people. It was time to execute a part of his plan that had been long overdue. The preparations for it had been started the night before. No one would see it coming. And all would rejoice in it.

Ise was the last to arrive. As she seated herself directly across from Rehm, she gave him a look that told him in no uncertain terms what she thought of him. Such defiance from someone so inconsequential, Rehm thought. She will be the first.

"I believe that is everyone," Rehm said, rising from his seat. "As Council Leader, I declare this meeting open. I believe the first order of business—yes, what is it?"

A servant had knocked on the council door and entered the room without being asked, a highly disrespectful act. He clutched a piece of paper in his hand, his voice shaking as he spoke, "U-urgent m-message for you, my l-lord," he said.

Any other time, Rehm would have had the man flogged and thrown out of the castle, but he happened to be expecting this message...if his suspicions were correct. He nodded and held out his hand for the message. The servant scuttled over, gave him the message and practically ran out of the chambers, as if the fires of hell were chasing him. They might as well, Rehm thought as he unfolded the paper and read it, ignoring the looks from the other councillors.

It was short and to the point.

_**Silver Guard continues to resist. Many casualties suffered on both sides. We are running out of men and supplies quickly. Doubt the palace will fall anytime soon. Negotiations with moles continue, but they are stubborn and demanding. Highly recommend disengaging Agon and funnelling his forces here. Riveth of no importance if the palace does not fall.** _

_**Ever faithful,  
Marlotta** _

Rehm felt his blood boil. Why was he surrounded by incompetent fools and why were they incapable of performing a simple act such as destroying the Silver Guard? Would he have to do everything himself?

Sighing and fighting down the overwhelming urge to put the countess to the sword, he looked at the councillors, who were watching him with a varied mixture of fear, interest and loathing. A certain redhead was responsible for the latter, her eyes narrowing at him more and more for every second. Rehm glared back. It was time.

"First—and only—order of business," he said loudly. "The dissolution of this council."

The councillors were stunned into silence. Even Ise was shocked, judging by the way her mouth kept opening and closing, much like that of a fish out of water. "W-what?" she finally stammered out.

"You heard me," Rehm said. "The King has, after much thought and debate with yours truly, decided that he would like to take personal control of the Kingdom of Lumina and all of its assets in these dark times, and wield them as He sees fit. This means that the members of this council will be required to turn in their rings and any and all signs of affiliation, not to mention special powers and privileges granted to them by their positions. Furthermore, you are ordered to remain within the city walls as His Majesty continues to develop a plan to end this terrible rebellion before it has a chance to spread. Your assistance might be called upon at any time."

"You don't have the power to do this," Ise said, glowering at him, crossing her arms.

"You're right, I don't," Rehm said, glowering right back. "But the King does, and it is from Him this order came. And it is not within _your_ power to argue against it."

"Prove it."

"Gladly," he said and pulled out an official document from the pile in front of him. There were seals and signatures, all of them faked, of course, since the King was currently rotting away in his cell. "You will find his signature and his seal upon this edict." He passed it around to the councillors, who all read it and shook their heads in dismay. "As you can see, it is all official. The announcement will be made later this afternoon, by which time you will have removed yourselves from these premises, or you will be removed by force. Not to sound harsh, but the King wishes this nasty business to come to a swift conclusion."

"What about you?" Ise asked, glaring. "Will _you_ be expected to remove yourself from these premises as well?"

"Fortunately, my position as the King's advisor has not been terminated, and as such I will be permitted to remain," Rehm said, relishing in the look of outrage that crossed her face. He didn't need to look at the other councillors to know that they were meekly accepting the "edict" and were already planning on how to leave the city. They all knew which way the wind was blowing.

"This is an outrage!" Ise exclaimed. "I demand to speak to the King and verify this for myself!"

"You forget your place, Ise," Rehm said slowly. "The King is far too busy with war meetings and such to allow His time to be wasted by an ambitious noblewoman whose true desire is more power. The edict is here, it is signed and sealed. That is all the proof you need."

"I demand—"

"You will demand nothing, or I will have you arrested, Ise!" Rehm bellowed, taking great delight in the frightened expression that suddenly crossed her face. "The King has spoken, this council is dissolved. You have until two o'clock this afternoon to remove yourselves from the Castle, or you will be removed. Good day."

With that, he rose from his chair and left the room, which was filled with a stunned silence. The edict remained, and Ise was furiously studying it up and down, probably trying to find a loophole or something like that. She would not find any; Rehm had made sure that the wording was solid.

He watched from a window as the councillors left the castle in a small group. Ise walked a few steps behind, distancing herself from the weak fools. They were going home, probably to start plotting against him. They would never get that far. There would be people waiting in their houses and apartments, ready to silence them forever.

It was a gruesome way to rid himself of potential enemies, he realised, and quite cowardly. But no chances could be taken. Not now. He was particularly sad to have to put an end to Ise in such a way. Angry as she made him, she was remarkably strong-willed, and her presence on the council had provided a source of entertainment for him, even if it usually consisted of squashing her ideas. Had things been different, then perhaps...no, he could not afford himself such thoughts, entertaining as it were. He was serving a much higher purpose and could not allow himself to be distracted.

He passed by a window, relishing in the silence that blanketed the usually lively city. Jan's quartered body being carried through the streets accompanied by proclamations of what he had done to deserve his fate had made sure to subdue any rebelliously inclined inhabitants of the capital. At least things were going well on his side of things. He hoped Marlotta would make progress with the Silver Guard soon, otherwise Riveth might regroup properly. Even with the mighty _Chimera_ on his side, Rehm had no doubt the bitch would find a way to ruin his plans. However, with the completion of _The Annihilator_ and _The Reaper_ , he would be in too strong a position to ever lose.

And that, he decided, was a good reason to open that special bottle of wine he had in his chambers.

Even conspirators needed to relax, after all.

* * *

Sheik's mind was racing. Jeryd was kissing him. _Kissing him!_

His rather blurry outlook on the world in general, courtesy of the whiskey, had up until a few seconds ago been quite pleasant. His chest had burned with an inner fire, again provided by the strong liquor, and he had felt like he was at the top of the world. Also, everything had been funny, for some reason.

But now all that was torn away from him by a single action. And that single action's reaction. Not the leaning into the kiss, not the lack of resistance when the human wrapped his arms around his lithe body and drew him close. No, none of those things. The thing that jerked him back into the moment and genuinely made him pay attention to the situation at hand was this thought:

 _I like this_.

His entire mind rebelled at the very thought of it. It screamed at every nerve, sinew and muscle in his body to stop whatever it was doing or feeling and just get the hell away from the situation at hand. This could not stand! This was unacceptable!

And yet, his body refused to comply. It did not acknowledge any sort of orders from his brain and did, in fact, the contrary. His lips started moving, kissing Jeryd back, moaning quietly as if things weren't bad enough to begin with. Jeryd made a surprised hum before doubling his efforts, hugging Sheik closer to himself. Sheik gasped when he felt a warm, wet tongue probing gently at his lips. Again, his body went rogue and opened his mouth, allowing the human to slip his tongue inside, immediately beginning to explore. Sheik gasped and moaned again, burying his hands in Jeryd's hair, tugging at straws of blonde.

It was so different from kissing Link. The Hero, while quite certain of what he wanted during the private time, was usually so careful and wary of hurting Sheik that his touches often bordered on feathery all the way through. He often paused to ask if his lover was okay and if he was doing well, which Sheik always found quite endearing. Jeryd, however, was different. Jeryd was...for the lack of a better word, aggressive. Not the bad kind, certainly, but the kind that left no question about what he wanted and how he would get it, and still he was careful, though not in the doting way Link was.

Their tongues met, and a duel began. The fight for dominance was soon decided in Jeryd's favour as the older man's experience and technique easily defeated Sheik, who let out another moan as he submitted.

Their mouths parted for one brief moment, and Jeryd murmured breathlessly, "Gods, I've wanted this..." Then he kissed Sheik again and let his hands roam around his back.

Sheik felt like he was about to melt from the heat radiating from the human, letting himself fall into the embrace once more, relishing in the feeling of the fingers exploring every inch of his spine, his shoulders...

Then a hand slipped under his shirt, and everything came rushing back. His eyes slammed open (when had they slipped shut?), and he made a protesting sound, trying to pull away from Jeryd, who only held him tighter, refusing to let go. Realising that Jeryd was much stronger than him physically, Sheik resorted to drawing back a hand that felt surprisingly heavy, and slammed a loose fist into the human's cheek.

It wasn't much of a punch, hardly any force behind it at all, but it seemed to bring Jeryd back into the waking world as well, and his eyes widened when he realised what he was doing. He practically leapt away from Sheik, falling off the chair and crashing to the floor in the process. He groaned painfully, staring up at Sheik with fear in his eyes.

"Oh, g-gods, I'm so s-sorry!" he exclaimed, scrabbling away from the chair until his back met the wall. "I...I..."

Sheik was panting, realising how little air he'd had left when breaking the trance he'd been in. He could only stare at Jeryd in silence, unable to believe what had just happened. _How...how could I kiss back?_ he asked himself again and again.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck..." Jeryd muttered, groaning as he stood up and holding his back, having landed quite heavily on it. He apparently took Sheik's lack of speaking as a bad sign and began making his way to the door, stumbling and swaying. He reached for the doorknob, struggling with it and cursing more under his breath.

Snapping out of it, Sheik looked at him. "Where are you going?" he asked, hating himself for the slurr in his words. _Damn whiskey!_

"Out," Jeryd answered hurriedly. "Away. Sorry."

"Wait, you can't go in—out, I mean out. You can't...go," Sheik said, staring helplessly at the human, who was still struggling with the door. His body felt heavy like lead, and he could barely move his head. Even shifting his gaze required a massive amount of willpower, which he felt was slipping further and further away from his grasp.

"I have to," Jeryd said, not looking at him. "I di-did something bad. Can't stya...stay."

"You're drunk, it's dangerous!"

"Don't care!" Jeryd grunted and punched the door. "Why won't it fucking open?"

"...it turns the other way..." Sheik said quietly.

Pausing, Jeryd carefully turned the knob the other way. The door swung open smoothly, not even a creak in its hinges. "Thanks," he said before going through it, closing it carefully behind him, leaving Sheik alone and miserable.

He buried his face in his hands, groaning loudly. "Goddesses," he whispered.

_Link's going to kill me..._

Standing up, he realised he was in no shape to go after Jeryd. They had had equal amounts of whiskey, roughly, but Jeryd was obviously much better at holding his liquor, because the world around Sheik was currently doing backflips. Before he knew what was happening, he found himself on the floor, vision spinning. His stomach was in an uproar, though whether it was from the alcohol or the regret gnawing at him, he didn't know.

Knowing there was nothing he could do, he crawled into his bed, lying face-down into the pillow and screwing his eyes shut, willing the world to stop pretending to be a circus artist.

 _Why me?_ was his last thought as his whiskey-pickled brain sank into a blissful state of oblivion.

* * *

"The hell happened here?" Elenwe asked out loud as she came into the room, seeing the tipped-over furniture, food bowls littering the floor the and general disarray in there. She cast a glance at the still form lying in bed with its face thoroughly hidden by sheets and pillows, and then at the empty whiskey bottle on the floor in front of the fire. "Ah, of course," she said and pulled back a sheet to reveal the youngest Sheikah.

"Hm?" Kafei asked, also stepping inside and closing the door behind them. "Smells like booze in here," he said.

"Seems our human companion shared some of his liquid dessert," she replied, pointing from the bottle to the practically comatose Sheik. "And not just that, from the look of him."

"Goddesses, don't tell me—"

"Those lips have been kissed," Elenwe said, stifling a giggle at the way Sheik curled into a foetal position, protesting at the lack of warmth from his sheet.

"Jeryd's not in there, is he?" Kafei asked, glaring suspiciously at a lump next to Sheik.

"Nope, just a pillow," Elenwe said, showing him. "No delicious Human-Sheikah pretzel to be found here."

"Where is he, then?" Kafei said, looking around the room. "Not in here, obviously."

"Maybe he went to the privy, or something. Or to the doctor's. Ointments are important in relations like this—"

"Elenwe," Kafei hissed. "Stop. Talking."

Scratching her neck, she grinned. "Sorry, but it's an appealing mental image."

"Maybe to you," Kafei grumbled. "I found it less so. Or, rather, I have nothing against the image itself, but it's invariably followed by the image of Jeryd being mashed into pulp by the Hero...who, I'm afraid, is not going to like this at all."

"Which is why you and I are going to keep our mouths shut about it, right?" Elenwe said. "Link can't find out about this in any other way than either of those two admitting to it." She fixed him with an intense gaze. "Deal?"

Knowing better than to protest, he nodded. "Yeah, deal. I don't see why, though. No matter what way he finds out about it, the Hero will not react in a favourable way."

"Maybe he'll suggest a sandwich?" Elenwe said, a hopeful grin appearing on her face.

"You're hopeless," Kafei said, shaking his head at her and beginning to remove his outerwear. There were spatters of blood on his sleeves, he noticed to his distaste. He was sure he'd been careful enough to avoid any sprays. He took off clothing until he was left standing shirtless and wearing a thick pair of woollen shorts, which were a lifesaver during winter. "I'm going to bed," he announced, yawning. "You'll take first watch?"

"Sure," she said, surreptitiously staring at his finely toned body, scored by dozens of small scars and other marks that could only have come from a life filled with hardship and fighting. She noted with slight annoyance that he was starting to get a bit thin, just like his cousin. What was it with Sheikah and their inability to take proper care of themselves? She was about to mention this, but stopped herself just in time. It wasn't her business anymore, after all. Not after Kafei had made it so abundantly clear that he was not interested in her that way, and probably never would be. She briefly wondered what would happen if she crawled into bed with him that night, but quickly beat _that_ thought into submission as well. He didn't deserve it. And never had. Even so, Kafei in the nearly nude was a damn fine sight, and not one she wanted to view for too long lest she do something they'd both regret. She looked around the room again. "Actually..." she said.

"Yes?" Kafei asked.

"I think I'll go look for Jeryd," she said, picking up her knife belt and put it on. "He's probably just as blitzed as Sheiky here, and that's not a good thing when you're alone in this town, it seems."

"Hm," Kafei grunted, nodding. "I suppose so. Do you even know where to look?"

"He's drunk, he's horny, and he's a man," Elenwe said, counting out on her fingers. "There are only so many places for him to go, isn't there?"

"Right, right. Be careful, though."

"Aw, your concern is touching," she said, only half of it sarcastically and opened the door. "I'll be back before you know it. And then we can beat up Jeryd for trying to ruin true love." Grinning, she quietly left.

Kafei sighed and sat down on the edge of his bed, watching Sheik. "Idiots," he muttered. "I'm surrounded by idiots, and it seems you've turned into one too. Heh, Impa would kill you if she saw you now, breaking one of her cardinal rules." He chuckled to himself. "I'm _so_ going to torture you in the morning."

* * *

Elenwe returned with Jeryd just before dawn, when the temperature was at its coldest. The Gerudo was not happy with the clerk and unceremoniously tossed him into bed next to Sheik before climbing into Kafei's, snuggling up against the Sheikah to regain her warmth, which had been sapped completely while searching for Jeryd. Kafei had of course been woken up by the commotion and asked if everything was all right, to which he got told to bugger off and mind his own business, which he did.

When they got up an hour or so later, neither Sheik nor Jeryd were happy campers, Jeryd least of all. Despite his decision from the night before, Kafei decided to let them both off the hook, deciding that their respective hangovers were punishment enough, at least for that day. And, like they promised, Kafei and Elenwe didn't mention what had transpired before Jeryd had left, nor did they ask. The awkward looks the Sheikah and human were giving each other spoke volumes of their suspicions.

Half an hour after they woke up, they were back on the road. They were riding inconspicuously among a large party of travelling traders. While their tendency to pull their hoods tighter over their heads whenever they passed guard patrols must have roused the attention of the traders, but given the fact that their wares hardly seemed to be of the legal kind, they kept their mouths shut. An uneasy alliance, certainly, but one that worked, for now.

An awkward silence hung over Sheik and Jeryd for five consecutive days, the only ones actually attempting to start conversations being Elenwe and, rather uncharacteristically, Kafei. No subject was too uninteresting, boring or inane; they tried them all. But Sheik and Jeryd engaged only in the discussions which the other one was not participating in.

By the end of the fifth day, Kafei and Elenwe had suffered enough and gave up, deciding that only the unlikely (more like the inevitable) bedfellows would be able to square their little...whatever the hell it was.

"There it is," Jeryd said as they rounded a bend in the road and entered the massive plain that housed the city of Ironhill. They had been able to see the dark clouds created from the factories for at least a day before, but those were nothing compared to the thick, black smoke that was belched out from the countless chimneys and smokestacks that littered the manufacturing district. Even from fifteen miles away, they could see the machine halls where the airships were being built, two large, oval shapes buried in the snowy ground, surrounded by miles of fences and solid stone walls, only broken by guard towers.

"Tadian said that those things are at least twice as big underground," Kafei said as they tried to remain inconspicuous while watching the city through Sheik's spyglass. Tourists looking at the big city in wonder was hardly a strange sight along this road, but ones armed to the teeth looking grimly at it, as if it were a challenge to be conquered, probably was. "I hope he was joking."

"He probably wasn't," Jeryd said, taking the spyglass and looking through it. "I've seen the scale of some of the things they produce in this place...they will blow your mind, I can assure you." He focused his attention on the gates into the living district, which the road led to. "Damn," he said.

"What is it?" Elenwe asked.

"Seems they've increased security at the gates, look." He pointed. "Those buildings look like barracks, and those dark smudges...probably troop formations. Plus, those gates seem to have been reinforced and made bigger. My bet would be that they're checking papers and credentials, which we don't have."

"So, how do we get into the city?" Sheik said, marking the first time in a week that the Sheikah had spoken to Jeryd directly. The human took it in stride and made a doubting noise.

"Well, I had hoped to avoid it, but it seems we'll have to take the old secret entrance that the assassins used."

"Why don't you want to use it?" Kafei said.

"Well, it was pretty decrepit the last time I saw it, and I highly doubt the structural integrity has been improved since then."

"Doesn't matter," Sheik said. "We need to get into the city, and if that's the way we have to use, then..."

"What about the current assassins' entrance?" Elenwe added.

"Too risky," Jeryd said, giving the spyglass to her. "We could be spotted by the guild, and I don't want that to happen until we are ready to make contact with them."

"Why, you think they'd react badly?"

"I don't know, and that's why I'm sceptical."

It took them quite a long time to find the entrance to the tunnel dug by the assassins into the city, even with Jeryd's knowledge of the its locations. They passed it at least twice before they found it, buried under several feet of snow. The hatch had rotted and broken under the weight of the snow at some point over the years, which made it all the more difficult to open it. Night was falling by the time they had dug out enough snow to slip into the tunnel. It was dark and freezing, and the air was musty and stale from the lack of ventilation.

"Darker than a smoker's lung in here," Kafei said. "Does anyone have a light?"

"Here," Jeryd said, his voice somewhere ahead of them. There was the rattle of metal and glass, and sparks as he struck two pieces of flint together. The oil lantern came to life, and Jeryd turned it all the way up, bathing them in light.

The tunnel itself, at least this part of it, seemed intact. It was about eight feet wide, and the floor was cobbled. The walls and high ceiling were bricked up and reinforced with heavy wooden beams.

"This is the 'structural integrity' you were talking about?" Elenwe asked.

"The problem isn't here," Jeryd said, looking around. His eyes were filled with what seemed to be nostalgic fondness. "No, the dangerous part is the section where the tunnel goes under the old river. The city swallowed it up and turned it into a series of wells, but the ground water still seeped through and made the tunnel rotten to the core. It collapsed more than once during my time in Ironhill." He adjusted the flame down to save oil and pointed at the dark maw that would lead them into the city. "No time to lose," he said. "If we're lucky, there's enough room to get inside. If not...well, we'll have to think of something else."

Crates covered in dust lined the walls most of the way, sometimes stacked up to three in height.

"What's in them?" Kafei asked.

"Supplies, probably," Jeryd replied. "We used this tunnel as a storage facility sometimes. I guess my colleagues forgot to bring these in when they abandoned it."

"What kind of supplies?"

"Food, mostly, I think. Maybe some weapons here and there, but I don't think we have the time to categorise their contents."

"Ah...just something to keep in the backs of our minds if it should be necessary."

The tunnel went on for miles, or so it felt like. It seemed to snake its way under the plain, as if the diggers had been trying to avoid the gaze of the guard towers, even if it was impossible for them to be spotted underground.

It had certainly suffered from the lack of maintenance over the years, the brickwork in some sections showing clear signs of imminent collapse in the future, but it wasn't until they reached the part that neared the former path of the river that it really took a turn for the worse. The beams were rotten and covered in subterranean fungi that were certainly poisonous, the ceiling leaking and bending under the weight of the groundwater it was holding up, bricks falling out as the mortar was slowly ground away. The walls were coated in slime and had fallen apart under their own weight in places, allowing the earth to slowly retake the territory it had lost as more dirt would pour in until the ceiling finally broke, probably flooding the tunnel forever.

Then they reached the former river's course, and were confronted with...emptiness. The water had broken through quite a while ago and slowly undermined a section of about twenty feet, eventually carrying it with it and leaving what could only be described as a crevasse. On the other side, the tunnel continued its merry path. The assassins had apparently tried to build a wooden bridge to solve the problem, but that too had suffered the same fate as the support beams in the dark and dank.

"See, this is what I was talking about," Jeryd said. Far below them they could hear the river continuing its merry course, apparently trying to dig its way to the earth's core. "As for that thing," he said and pointed at the bridge, if it could even be called that at this point, "I don't trust it at all."

"Well, it's the only way we've got," Kafei said, studying it. He set a foot on it and tried his weight. "Seems sturdy enough as long as we don't put too much weight on it. I suggest we go one by one, and _slowly_."

"Maybe keep a rope tied around the person crossing, just in case?" Elenwe suggested.

"Do you see a rope?"

"Uh...no. Sorry."

"It was a good idea, though."

"Right, so who gets to cross first?" Sheik said, not looking forward to the act at all.

All four looked at each other, hesitating.

"Rock-paper-scissors, then," Elenwe said. She was met with three incredulous stares. "What?" she asked. "It's a legit solution the problem. None of us wants to be the first, so a game of chance will settle it."

"Just how old are we again?" Kafei asked sarcastically, but he still held out a fist. "So, how do we do it? All against all?"

"Last man standing goes over."

"Then we'll play to lose?" Sheik asked.

"How the hell do you play rock-paper-scissors to lose?" Jeryd asked.

" _Just fucking play_!" Elenwe roared, dislodging a few bricks from the ceiling behind them.

In the end, she was the first to cross, after many attempts at challenging the others to a rematch.

"You made the bed, now sleep in it," was the reply she got from Kafei, though he was clearly worried from the look on his face.

"Bastards," she said, only half-joking. She slowly stepped out onto the rotten bridge, carefully testing the ability to hold her weight before inching her way across. It creaked threateningly, especially when she reached the middle, but it held, and only when she had reached the other side did everyone release the breaths they hadn't realised they were holding.

Kafei was second. His going was much like Elenwe's, though the bridge gave even more threatening creaks this time. Something snapped loudly, but it still held.

"Might wanna be careful!" Kafei called over the sound of the river as Sheik prepared to cross the bridge. "It was shaking pretty badly towards the end. I don't think it's going to hold much longer."

"Thanks, that's reassuring!" Jeryd shot back.

"Not my job to be reassuring!"

"No shit!"

"Shut up!" Sheik yelled. "None of you are helping!" With annoyance fuelling his gait, he strode across the bridge, not pausing at any of the squeaks or creaks that threatened to hurl him into the dark abyss below.

"That...was impressive," Elenwe said when his feet touched the close-to-solid ground.

"The—"Kafei's sentence was interrupted by a loud clang coming from further ahead in the tunnel. His face took on a serious expression, and he looked at the Gerudo. "E," he said.

"Right," she replied, and they both drew their weapons. "We're going to scout ahead," she told Sheik. "Stay here and make sure Jeryd gets across safely. We'll let you know if it's clear."

"And if it's not?" Sheik asked, not really relishing in the idea of being alone with Jeryd.

"You'll probably figure it out," she said and disappeared ahead with Kafei, having lit another lantern.

"Where are they going?" Jeryd called.

"There was a noise, they're investigating!" Sheik replied.

"Ah, right! I'm coming over!"

Sheik watched as the human slowly made his way across, nowhere near as rapidly as he had, wondering how they were going to be able to work together during the sabotage if they could barely look at each other without feeling really awkward and unable to speak but the most neutral of sentences? The idea of—

The bridge broke. It started with a vibration that visibly travelled through the whole frame, before all the supporting beams and struts snapped one by one, followed by the walkway splitting in half...with Jeryd barely having cleared that point.

The look on his face spoke of pure panic as he raced over the last distance, desperately trying to make it over the last gap...but the walkway fell away beneath him before he got even close. He jumped, his hands scrabbling for purchase on the edge of the crevasse, but it was too wet, and he started to slip, feeling the nothingness beneath him trying to swallow him up—

But then Sheik's hand closed around his forearm, and he was dangling in midair, looking down at the wreckage of the bridge quickly disappearing into the darkness, the sound of it splintering against the sides of the crevasse deafening.

Sheik grunted with effort, holding onto one of the tunnel's support beams while doing his best to pull Jeryd up, praying that the beam wouldn't give way. He realised he wasn't strong enough to pull Jeryd's weight up all by himself.

"R-reach and climb!" he grunted out.

"I'm trying!" Jeryd replied back. "It's too wet!"

"Try again!"

He finally found purchase, and Sheik finally managed to pull him over the edge. They lay panting on the floor, ignoring that they were getting soaked to the bone.

"That...was too close," Jeryd announced, whistling quietly as he sat up.

"Indeed..." Sheik replied, doing the same. He noticed Jeryd looking at him and raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"I...I realise we need to talk about what happened...or, I realise that I really, really, _really_ need to apologise for what happened, but can it wait until we're in a safe place, preferably above ground?"

Sheik nodded. "Right."

"Okay...and for now we will maintain a friendly, cooperative atmosphere, at least on the outside."

"Sure."

"All right, then."

Footsteps approached them, and Kafei and Elenwe emerged from the tunnel, panting.

"We heard something and came as fast as...we...could..." Elenwe trailed off. "What...where's the bridge?"

"In bridge heaven," Jeryd said, standing up, offering Sheik a hand, which he took. "Damn near took me with it, but Sheik saved me. Which is good, because I don't think I would have thrived there; I know nothing about platforms or scaffolds. I suppose I could make do with gangplanks, but..."

"Are you insane?" Kafei asked in earnest, raising an eyebrow in a way that perfectly mimicked Sheik's.

"A little?" Jeryd said.

"Idiot," Elenwe said, giggling.

"Anyway, E and I found a hatch up ahead," Kafei said. "We think it leads up to the streets."

"Is it green?" Jeryd asked.

"Yes."

"Then yes, that's our hatch."

"Let's go, then."

Jeryd tapped Sheik on the shoulder in a signal to hang back a little, which he did.

"Uh..." Jeryd said, looking awkward. "Thank you. For saving my life."

Surprised at the sudden demure, Sheik found himself smiling at the human. "You saved mine, I saved yours."

"That simple, huh?" Jeryd asked. "So now that you've settled the debt..."

"I'm sure we'll have plenty of opportunities to take on more debts before all this is over," Sheik replied. "Come on, before they leave us behind."

* * *

**Soul Remnants  
Chapter 48**

* * *

The sound of metal striking metal rang out among the trees, accompanied by groans of exertion and panting. Snow was kicked up by the combatants' rapid feet movements, neither of them staying still for more than a second, that second possibly being what decided life or death for either of them. Their swords came together once more, both fighters feeling their arms going numb from the impacts they were dealing to each other. They remained locked together, neither of them backing down, desperately trying to push the other away or, in the best possible case, down into the snow, which would decide the battle. But that didn't happen, both of them held their ground, straining and groaning against the other, putting all their weight behind their blades.

"G-giving up?" Rial asked through clenched teeth, sweat pouring down his face. He hadn't had a fight like this since...well, since Agon, and it felt exhilarating.

"Neverrrrr," Link growled back. He was in no better shape than the general. It had been a while since Link had met an opponent who evenly matched him in not only strength, but also tactics. The only other who had was...well, the Shadow. And the less thought of him, the better.

"All right, one 'o ye's gotta give," Sid called from the sidelines, with agreeing nods and grunts from Riveth, Angen and Agneta, Angen's medic friend. "We don't have the time f'r this!" Which was easy for him to say since he was sitting in front of roaring fire, keeping him and the other spectators warm.

Never back down. That was what Link repeated to himself in his thoughts. It was a mantra that had never failed him so far, at least when it came to fights like this. Sure, he knew when a battle was hopeless and that retreat would be a far better idea, but once he was in the thick of it, this was what worked best. At least for him. His opponents, he thought, rarely agreed. Then again, by the time they realised that, they were either dead or beaten to the ground. Link enjoyed doing neither, but after having been with Sheik so long...he realised that it was necessary sometimes. He always made sure to pay his respects to those who were slain afterwards, though, if they deserved it.

Rial seemed to have a similar motto, also continuing to push, seemingly adding a new batch of strength to his move. Link felt his boots beginning to slip on the icy ground beneath the snow and knew that he'd be in trouble if he didn't think of something fast. Searching his repertoire for possible tie-breakers, he was reminded of a move that Sheik often pulled, usually when sparring with Link. It was infuriatingly simple and very childish, but very effective.

Rial knew something was up when Link suddenly grinned, but he reacted too late when the Hero suddenly threw himself to the side, disengaging their lock, leaving the general pushing with all his power at nothing but thin air. The result was predictable, just like Link remembered. Rial stumbled forward, landing face-down in the freezing snow. Before he had a chance to gather his wits and make sense of what had just happened, he felt cold metal of a sword against his neck.

"I believe the day is mine, sir," Link said triumphantly, mimicking the words of the fencers he and Sheik had seen on their travellers. "Do you admit defeat?"

Rial growled, but nodded. "Yeah, I admit defeat."

"Huzzah," Link said, sheathing his blade and offering Rial a hand, pulling him back on his feet.

"That was a dirty trick," the general said.

"All's fair in love and war," Link reminded him.

"You honestly believe that?" Rial asked.

"When Sheik's involved, you end up believing a lot of things, not all of them good," Link said, shrugging. "But no, I don't think _everything_ should be permitted, but I also know that my personal opinion doesn't matter—the world will still be filled with people who will embrace that saying."

"So, be prepared for anything from others?"

"Pretty much."

"I won't make that mistake again, though. Next time, Hero of Time, you're mine."

"Looking forward to it."

Riveth clapped loudly, rising from her seat. "Bravo, bravo, both of you. You'll have to look far and wide for better swordsmanship than this. That said, though, nephew, isn't it embarrassing that you're a general and was defeated by—no offense, Link—a boy?"

"I wasn't aware dirty tricks were allowed," Rial said in his defence. "I won't make that mistake again."

"I hope not; it might cost you your life one day."

"Right, who's next?" Angen asked.

Link studied the innkeeper as he too rose from his seat, muscles visibly bulging even under the heavy clothing he was wearing. This was the man who, together with Jeryd, had saved his lover's life. While he slightly resented Angen for having disfigured Sheik by cutting off his fingers, he also knew that if he hadn't, Sheik would have been dead. It was a bit...difficult to reconcile the two points. That said, so far they had gotten along quite well, and Link looked forward to getting to know him better. He seemed like a good sort.

Sid...well, Sid was Sid. Sheik had described him to Link several times, but it had been difficult to imagine him until he was standing right in front of the Hero, speaking in that strange accent of his. His eyes were always darting here and there, like he was drinking in every detail everywhere. It was probably a habit he had picked up when he was a spy, Sheik had reasoned, but it was still rather disconcerting.

Riveth coughed slightly, covering her mouth with her hand. She had apparently caught quite a bad cold, and it yet to let go in the week and a half since Sheik had left. It had left Agneta quite worried and was attempting to treat her to the best of her abilities.

"I b'lieve that honour's all yers," Sid said, looking at the innkeeper.

Sid wasn't fighting. His knee was all but destroyed from the injury he'd taken while sneaking the message from Rial to the King, and Agneta highly doubted it would ever heal. Sid was not happy about this and attempted to subvert her orders to keep weight off it at every turn, but at least he knew not to over-exert himself and backed down whenever he felt his knee protesting _too_ loudly. Much could be said about the ex-spy, but stupidity was _not_ one of his weaknesses. He was perfectly happy with having two legs, even if one of them was being a stupid bastard at the moment.

"Actually," a new voice rang out over the small, secluded clearing they had found to spar in, "I would very much like the honour of sparring against the legendary Hero of Time."

"Sir Iteos," Rial said, doing his best to disguise his dislike for the knight. "I didn't realise you were watching."

Iteos walked slowly into the circle, almost daintily so, smiling. Link shivered, almost unable to contain his absolute disgust. The way he had looked at Sheik...was unforgivable. Actually, the way he had looked at _Link_ wasn't pleasant either, but hitting on Sheik? In front of him? Punishment by the flat of his blade against a very sensitive place was warranted, in Link's opinion.

"Oh, I didn't mean to, really," the knight said, flashing them all that horribly confident grin of his. "I just happened to come across this place and got...fascinated, by your movements." As he spoke, he fixed Link with a penetrating gaze, one that spoke volumes of... Link had trouble identifying it. "So fluid, so accurate, so... _artistic_."

"Thank you," Link said, as insincere as he could possibly make it. Iteos didn't even seem to notice.

"Who trained you?" Iteos asked, beginning to circle the Hero. "I have never seen moves like that taught by the masters..."

"I trained myself," Link said, not offering any more information.

"I see," Iteos said, nodding. "That explains the ineffective stance and other small problems. Don't get me wrong, it is a _pleasure_ to watch you fight, but there are, perhaps, small...improvements that can be made."

"Perhaps you'd be so kind to point them out to him, then?" Rial suggested, probably wishing the knight would just leave forever.

"I could," Iteos said, nodding. "But, where would the fun be in that?" He drew his sword—a long, thin blade with a circular guard. "I'd rather _show_ you."

"Tha' rapier's gonna break th' second they strike at each other," Sid said, chuckling at Iteos' choice in weaponry.

"Oh, I think not," Iteos said. "This blade has been forged and tempered by the best blacksmiths in the world. It has withstood blows that would break the thickest of zweihänders. I'm actually more worried about _your_ blade, Hero."

"It'll be fine, I think," Link said, regarding his sword. Not a single knick, and it had been through _a lot_ since he'd acquired it. He fell into his usual stance, discarding his shield to make it fair for his shield-less opponent.

Rial made to step out of the circle, but murmured quietly as he passed Link, "Beat him into submission."

Link nodded in what he hoped was an imperceptible way and focused on Iteos, who had fallen into a fighting stance as well. It felt strange, not to have the heavy weight of a shield on his right arm, and it would be difficult to remember _not_ to block with it.

"Ah, I forget that you are left-handed," Iteos said smoothly and switched hands, looking just as comfortable wielding the rapier in his left hand as in his right. "There, now we are even."

"Oh, don't switch hands on account of me," said Link. "I'm used to fighting with right-handed people."

"Perhaps, but you are not used to fighting right-handed people and _not_ having a shield to block with. I want an even match, after all, and it's only fair. Really, I'm ambidextrous anyway."

"Ambi-wha'?" Sid asked from the sidelines.

"He can use both hands just as well," Riveth explained.

"Ah, so he can use both hands for jerkin' his—"

"Yes, exactly!" she interrupted him.

"Not that it's ever necessary," Iteos murmured so quietly that only Link could hear him. "I always find plenty of willing partners to do it for me."

Link couldn't be more disgusted even if he tried.

"Speaking of which, Hero, perhaps you'd like to make a bet?" Iteos continued, looking at him.

"What kind of bet?" Link asked, beginning to circle Iteos, who began to do the same.

"An innocent one, of course," said Iteos, still speaking so only Link could hear him. "Or, not so innocent, really..." He pointed at Link with his rapier. "If I win this duel, I get to have you for a night."

"You're insane," Link said, shaking his head. "No deal."

"Oh, come on," Iteos said, smirking. "Surely you do not doubt your own abilities to such a degree? You've definitely got me in strength and mass, there's no way I can win. And _if_ you do win, you can ask anything of me."

Link hesitated. "Anything?" he asked.

"Anything," Iteos confirmed.

"So...if I win and tell you to leave me and Sheik the hell alone?"

"As a man of honour I would, of course, be obliged to obey."

I can take him, Link thought. He's right, there's hardly any meat on him at all, and no muscle to speak of. I guess he could take me on agility, but that requires endurance. Look at him, he's getting tired just from slogging through the snow! And if it gets him off Sheik's back...

Link nodded. "All right, you've got a deal."

Iteos chuckled, looking delighted. "How droll."

"Hey, what are you whispering about over there?" Rial called from the sidelines.

"Just a friendly bet, general, don't you worry," Iteos called back. "We are not discussing your...er, interesting choice of fashion." He grinned wickedly when they heard Rial quietly mutter to Riveth.

"Do I dress weird?"

"Haven't the faintest idea, nephew," she replied.

"Was that necessary?" Link asked.

"Absolutely," Iteos said, grinning.

Link didn't even wait for the knight to finish before he lunged forward, aiming a low strike at the knight's legs, which he deftly dodged, responding with a wide stroke that would have taken Link's head off had he not bent backwards. He felt the rapier's point whistling by his larynx.

They jumped away from each other, beginning to circle again. Iteos whistled quietly.

"Your reflexes are excellent," he said. "You would've been dead otherwise."

"I aim to please," Link said. He feinted to the right and stabbed at Iteos' middle. The knight twisted out of the way, but Link wouldn't let him rest, continuing his attack with a left-right combo that left Iteos unable to dodge. The rapier blocked his sword's path, surprisingly strong. Iteos hadn't been lying, then. Any other rapier would have broken under a blow of that force.

Iteos grinned and pushed back with surprising strength, almost making Link stumble backwards.

Where the hell did that come from? Link wondered. He doesn't have the weight for that!

"Hmph, my turn," Iteos said, rushing forward and lashing out with a series of rapid attacks. The rapier whistled loudly, as if it was cutting the very air itself. Link had no hope of dodging such speedy attacks, forcing to resort to parrying, which was easier said than done. The rapier was so much lighter and quicker, and Link's sword was heavy, almost unwieldy in comparison. It was a wonder he managed to knock the attacks aside long enough to suddenly lunge to the side, past Iteos' blade and aiming a pommel strike right into the knight's gut. "Ah," Iteos grunted, clutching the spot. "Hah...lucky shot."

"Pure skill," Link countered and attacked, aiming a heavy, two-handed overhead strike right at him.

Iteos tch-ed and sidestepped the blow, foregoing his rapier to give the Hero a backhanded slap with his right hand.

Link's cheek burned as he stepped back, feeling like the imprint of the knight's hand had been burned into it.

"No, _that_ was pure skill," Iteos said, grinning. "Takes years of practice to perfect a slap like that."

"Ye fight like a _woman_!" Sid shouted. "No offense, General, Agneta," he added seconds later.

"I'll use any move that proves effective," Iteos said.

"As will I," Link replied, stepping very close to Iteos and aiming a knee at the knight's valuables. But Iteos was faster and jumped away, making a deft movement with his left hand. The rapier caught Link across his right cheek. It was not a deep or long cut, Iteos having hit him with the flat side of his blade, but it still drew blood and would probably leave a scar.

"Nice try, but kicking someone in the fork is hardly a surprising—or effective strategy," Iteos said, chuckling. "I hope that—"he pointed at Link's face"—will be a reminder. For life."

Link growled. Iteos was really pissing him off now. He abandoned all attempts at stealth and simply charged at the knight, using both hands to aim a powerful, wide-sweeping arc of sharp blade at Iteos' middle. The knight dodged, but Link was quick to aim the arc the other way, giving him no time to counter. Then it was time for a new move the Hero had contemplated for a while. Using the weight of his sword, he aimed his strike downwards and jumped, using the momentum to somersault. Time seemed to slow down. When he judged himself to be in the right position, he kicked out with his legs, catching Iteos in the chest, propelling the knight backwards. He stumbled and landed with a heavy thud on his back, exactly when Link did the same.

The finish didn't go as the Hero had planned. He landed on a root hidden by the snow. He felt a tingly lance of pain shooting through his whole spine, his feet going numb immediately.

Okay, he thought. That was not clever. He was glad Sheik wasn't around to see him now, it was so embarrassing. He rolled over and tried to get to his feet with some semblance of dignity left, groaning. Iteos didn't seem to be much better off, rising unsteadily to his feet and holding his chest, breathing heavily.

"That was...unexpected, and...effective..." he panted, looking at Link. "Pretty...stupid, too..."

"No kidding," Link agreed, trying to reach for his sword.

Then Iteos was suddenly in his face, having gone from slightly injured to perfectly fine in the span of a second. Link saw the rapier approach quickly, realising it was too late to even _try_ to dodge or parry. The rapier went past him, to his surprise, as did Iteos. When the pommel of the rapier slammed into his spine a second later, right in the spot he had landed on, he realised what the knight had been planning.

His entire body went numb, and his legs lost all ability to carry his weight. Down he went, collapsing on the snowy ground, his entire back enflamed with pure agony. He wasn't even able to scream, the pain was so bad.

The rapier's point suddenly rested gently on Link's jugular notch, with Iteos standing above him, still breathing heavily.

"I believe...the day...is mine, sir," Iteos said triumphantly. "Do you admit defeat?"

Link desperately tried to find a way out, but between his sudden and—hopefully—temporary paralysis and the fact that any sudden movement would make the rapier cut right through his throat.

Oh, Goddesses, what I have done? he wondered.

"Well?" Iteos asked, pushing the point harder against the sensitive skin.

"Fine, fine! You win!" Link growled, glaring up at him.

Grinning, Iteos removed the rapier and sheathed it. He offered a hand to help Link up, but the Hero ignored it and tried to stand up on his own, with limited success.

"I expect you to honour your deal," Iteos murmured quietly before Rial came over to help steady him. "Good show, good show," he lauded Link as he stumbled away, clearly having suffered more from Link's attack than he cared to let on.

"You all right?" Rial asked. "That was a pretty bad hit, from the looks of it."

"Yeah," Link said quietly, feeling numb. Not just from the blows he had suffered to his poor spine, but from the realisation that he had lost the bet. Iteos had been playing him all along. "He could've finished me any time he wanted," he muttered.

"Bastard's a smooth operator, that's for damn sure," Rial said, helping the Hero over to where the others were sitting.

Link gratefully sank onto the pile of wolf skins that had been put down on the ground in front of the fire, wondering if he was ever going to regain the feeling in his legs.

"Let me take a look," Agneta said, immediately entering her serious mode. She made Link lie down on his stomach and lifted his shirt, exposing his back to the freezing air. "Oh my," she said. "That's going to leave a really bad bruise."

"Am I all right?" Link asked, seriously worried about the tingling in his legs. "My legs feel weird."

"Can you move them?"

"Yeah, but—"

"Does it hurt when you do?"

"A little—"

"But not excruciatingly so?"

"I guess not—"

"Then you're mostly fine, I think," she said. "Spinal injuries are often far more apparent—usually of the patient-screaming-bloody-murder kind. Might want to take it easy for a while." She fished something out of her bag. "I'm going to put on some ointment that will help with the bruises, at least."

"Thanks, I guess," Link said, not really feeling reassured by Agneta's very brief diagnosis.

"Don't worry about it; I'm sure your system is just in shock. If not, just come to me and I'll see what I can do."

"Her bedside manners leave a little to be desired, don't they?" Angen asked quietly.

"Watch it, big guy, or I might show you what Emma thinks of whispering behind my back," Agneta said warningly, tapping a finger against the hilt of her sword.

"And ears like a bat," Angen added. "So, how about it, Aggie? You and me?"

"If you feel up to having your ass kicked to hell and back for the nth time, sure," the medic agreed eagerly, grinning at her once-protégé. She finished applying the ointment to Link's back and stood up. "I sure hope your abilities with a sword are better than your stitching."

"It's easier to destroy than to fix, isn't that what they say?" Angen said as they took up positions. "I can only assume that applies to this particular context, don't you?"

"Just draw, boy."

"All right. Your funeral, hag."

Link grinned slightly at the banter, but the ache in his back was still too great to ignore for long periods of time. Noticing his discomfort, Riveth touched his shoulder and smiled.

"If you want to go lie down for a bit, you're welcome to use the bed in my tent," she said. "It's better for a sore back than the ground, I think."

"Really?" Link asked. "That would be...yeah, I'd like that," he said gratefully. Having a lie-down sounded like an absolutely lovely thing at the moment.

"Go on and do it, then," Riveth replied kindly. "Can't have the Hero of Time imitating a frail old man when his beau comes back, can we?"

Link blushed slightly. He wondered how Sheik felt about their relationship being practically public knowledge at this point (not that they had gone to great lengths to hide it, but still...). He got back to his feet with some discreet help from Riveth, swaying slightly.

"Need help getting back?" the ex-general asked quietly, as if to spare Link the humiliation.

"Nah, I'm good," Link lied, gritting his teeth. Damn Iteos, damn him and his stupid rapier. He had a good mind to shove it far up where the sun doesn't shine.

"Here, ye lost this," Sid said, sheathing his sword for him. "I'll get this back to ye later, all right?" he added and pointed at the Hero's shield. Link could only nod, not particularly caring about that heavy piece of armour at the moment. The promise of a bed was a greater priority.

"Thanks," he told the bald ex-spy and continued on his way. Iteos was nowhere to be seen, having slinked back to the camp while the others were busy tending to the wounded Hero. How Link wanted to find that son of a bitch and give him a taste of his own medicine...

The inhabitants of the camp gave him strange looks as he passed by, the lop-sided gait he had adopted to avoid jangling his poor back probably spawning a million vicious rumours among the soldiers and nobles. He briefly considered stopping by the infirmary to get a second opinion on his injury, but decided to focus on getting his sorry ass to bed instead. It could wait, he decided.

It was a relief to finally spot Riveth's command tent. The guards didn't even look at him as he entered, apparently used to the Hero being part of the general's entourage now.

Ard was inside, reading the book of spells that had apparently once belonged to Vorpheus. Link wanted to take the book and burn it, but knew that doing so would probably upset Ard, and that was the last thing he wanted to do. The young warlock looked up as he hobbled inside, raising a questioning eyebrow at the Hero, his green eyes locking with Link's.

"Oh, this?" Link asked, motioning at himself. "Just a sparring accident, nothing serious," he said. "Just gonna borrow the general's bed for a minute, with her permission of course." He began to make his way towards the screen that separated Riveth's living area from the command section. "Oh, and remind me to rip out Sir Iteos' spine the next time I see him, yeah?"

Confused, Ard nodded slowly and went back to reading.

Whatever's in that book, I hope it's worth the blood, sweat and tears it must've cost to research and write, Link thought, spotting the general's rather lavish and oversized bed on the other side of the screen. Barely bothering with removing his boots, Link slowly let himself sink into the mattress, careful not to put unnecessary pressure on his back.

Heaven. He was in heaven. Who would've thought that the simple act of lying down on something soft could produce such a euphoric feeling of bliss? Or cause fatigue to suddenly weight down on him like a ton of rocks? Granted, the last one he was familiar with to some degree, even if said soft thing had usually been, at best, a thin bedroll. But nevertheless!

He didn't know when he fell asleep, only that he had at some point. He was awoken by the sound of a yelp and a hoarse laughter that sounded suspiciously familiar.

"Wow, the pup's got fangs," Iteos' voice said from behind the screen. "Hey, hey, hey, don't look at me like that. Can't blame a guy for trying, right? I'm just here to see the Hero, no need to glare at me like that. Come on, now. Admit it, you liked it. Where's he, behind here?"

Link wanted to groan when the grinning face of Iteos appeared from behind the screen. His lower lip was bleeding, the wound extremely recent. He clicked his tongue in disappointment as he rounded the screen and came to a halt just before Link.

"Amazing what kind of trouble a blow to the spine can do, huh?" he asked. "I do apologise for that, but it was a weak point too tempting to resist."

"Go away," Link groaned.

"Of course, I just wanted to let you know that, in light of your self-inflicted injury, you won't be required to fulfil your end of our little deal until you feel better and ready for...strenuous activities again."

"Asshole!"

"Tch, don't start calling me things just because you were stupid enough to make that bet. I didn't force you, remember?"

Link knew he was right, which was why it was twice as embarrassing to be in this position. He couldn't even push the knight away, his nerves tingling at the very idea of moving.

"That's what I thought," Iteos said, nodding to himself with satisfaction. "Anyway, that's all I came to say. I'll let you know when I feel you're ready for it. Oh, and before I go: be careful with that Ard kid. He's a biter, if you know what I mean." With a horrible wink, Iteos was gone once more.

"Ard?" Link called out, worried. When the silver-haired boy's head peeked out from behind the screen, he gave him a serious look. "Iteos didn't hurt you, did he?"

Ard shook his head no. "Bit him," he said simply and disappeared again.

Sighing, Link tried to go back to sleep, hoping the blissful state of unconsciousness would help his back heal faster. What he wouldn't give for a big bottle of red potion now...

* * *

"Let's see...was it three blocks to the east...or to the west from the big clock tower?" Jeryd mumbled to himself. The clock tower in question, a massive thing that towered over any other building in all of Ironhill, struck midnight, deafening the four travellers huddled in the alley across the square. "No, wait," he said once the din had died down, "maybe it was from the grain tower?"

"Are you trying to tell us you don't know where it is?" Kafei asked warningly, his patience just about to snap judging from the sound of his voice.

"Hey, the place has grown, all right?" Jeryd said, glaring at him. "And it's been a while since I was here last. Far as I know, they've even moved the headquarters."

"And if they have?"

"Then we've got a big problem."

"Goddesses..." muttered the elder Sheikah, pinching the bridge of his nose. "All this for nothing."

"Not nothing," Elenwe reminded him. "We're inside the city, at least. Jeryd's kept his word so far."

"And if I can't figure it out myself, I'll just have to contact someone who can show us the way," Jeryd said. "That might take a day or two, though."

"And in the meantime?" Sheik asked.

"Rent a room at a nice inn and get roaring drunk?"

"Based on past experiences, I don't think that's a good idea. At least not with you around," Elenwe joked. "You seem to get a bit...hands-y."

"Right, right...I wasn't joking about the inn, though. You might as well get comfortable while I'm out and about doing the legwork. How much money do we have left?"

"More than enough for a week, I think," Kafei said, jingling the coin purse. "At a reasonably priced inn."

"I know just the place, then."

It was easy enough to move through the streets, as long as they kept to the alleys and byways. Guards seemed more interested in keeping to the big, lighted main roads, not interested in policing those particular areas of the city. This had led to a rather elaborate series of establishments of less-than good reputes basing themselves in the well-hidden corners. These places attracted a special breed of customers, the kind that did not rat each other out because it usually resulted in their own vices being broadcast just as loud to the rest of the city. It was obscurity by means of mutually assured destruction. Social destruction, that is. And possibly skeletal, depending on how disgusted the guards were with their conduct.

That was why Jeryd and the others were able to make their way through the crowds without any of them being spotted—or at least were forgotten seconds later—despite the ample amount of wanted posters bearing Sheik, Jeryd and Link's faces being on display practically everywhere. Even so, they made sure to keep their hoods low over their faces, just in case they encountered some idiotic do-gooder.

The inn Jeryd had had in mind was a filthy-looking place placed in-between two a pair of underground fighting establishments. A tattered sign bearing the words "The H—g N-b" barely clung to the poster beam above the door. A pair of hired men outside scowled at them as they went inside, but left them alone.

The inside of the place was surprisingly clean and well-lit. And noisy. The whole bar area was a complete mess of voices and instruments, all clamouring to be the loudest and therefore the most noticeable.

"Hah, this place hasn't changed at all!" Jeryd yelled at the others, who could barely hear him. He motioned for them to follow him to the bar, where the innkeeper, a decidedly un-jolly-looking and thin fellow, was scowling at everything and everyone. His gaze landed on the approaching Jeryd, and the scowl turned even sourer. "Jox!"

Sheik and the others couldn't hear the conversation between Jeryd and the innkeeper—whose name was presumably Jox—but it did not seem to be a jolly one. The look on Jox's face only got worse and worse as Jeryd continued talking—yelling, more like—and gesticulating with his hands. He said something back, which caused Jeryd to point at coin purse in Kafei's belt, which the Sheikah handed over with great reluctance. Emptying half of it on the counter, Jeryd pointed at it, and then up towards the roof.

Jox looked like he was about to protest, but nodded bitterly and swept the gold off the counter and into his pocket, handing Jeryd a large, rusty key. Turning around, Jeryd grinned at them and pointed at the stairs.

Whoever had sound-proofed the building had done a terrific job. The noise from downstairs was almost completely muffled as they reached the third floor and the room which Jeryd had procured for them. It was practically bare, only containing a pair of beds that had clearly had their hey-day a decade or so before...and that was it. The windows were filthy and impossibly to see through, and a thick layer of dust coated the floor.

"Right...this is cozy," Kafei said, grimacing.

"And it looked so nice downstairs," Elenwe added.

"And this cost us half our money?" Sheik said, finishing the trinity of complaints.

"Come on, it's not that bad," Jeryd said, throwing his pack on the bed. A thick puff of dust erupted from the impact. "Okay, so maybe it needs a clean. Otherwise, it's just as I remember it." When three pairs of eyes turned to stare at him, he paused. "Er...this used to be the room I rented whenever I needed a break away from the guild," he explained, looking embarrassed. "I've had Jox keep it on hold in case I ever came back."

"Was that why this piece of shit room cost so much?" Kafei asked. "Because you've owed him back pay?"

"It's not cheap to keep a room like this on hold, you know—"

"That's it, you're dead!"

Elenwe and Sheik got between them before Kafei had a chance to cross the distance. "All right, let's just calm down here," Elenwe said. "Jeryd, you could at least have told us about this."

"Sorry, I wasn't thinking. Nostalgia overcame me," the human explained, looking nervously at Kafei.

"Thanks to you, we probably don't have enough money for supplies to last us back to the camp," Kafei said, glaring.

"I'm sure there'll be enough—"

"And if there isn't?"

"Then we'll figure something out," Sheik said. "Let's just concentrate on our job for now. Jeryd, you said you could contact someone?"

"Yeah."

"Tonight?"

"I think so. Depends on the rota."

"The assassins keep a schedule?" Elenwe asked incredulously.

"On whose turn it is to be the eyes and ears in the city? You bet," Jeryd said. "And I know all the places they are posted. There's only one I person I trust with this, though, so let's just hope he's the out and about tonight." He went for the door. "Just...make yourselves comfortable while I'm gone."

"Comfortable? It'd be like resting in a crypt," Kafei muttered.

"To my knowledge, no one's died in here. _I_ didn't kill anyone in here, at least," Jeryd said. "Might have swatted a million flies, though. This place gets rank during summer. Anyways, got to go. See you all later."

"I am slowly coming to hate that man," Kafei said, poking distastefully at the musty sheets of the bed. "Does he do it on purpose? Is he _trying_ to commit suicide by me?"

"Just leave it," Sheik said, leaning against a wall and letting himself sink to the floor. It was better than to suffocate oneself while trying to sleep in those beds. "If he manages to contact this person he was speaking about, we won't even have to spend the night here."

"No, but we'll still be a lot poorer than we were when we entered the city."

"Since when did you care so much about money?" Elenwe asked, looking at her partner. "You rarely spend any of your fees anyway, unless it's on new weapons or materials for new contracts."

"What does he do with the rest?" Sheik asked.

"Gives it away to the poor, usually," Elenwe said, her face breaking into a grin. "Actually, no, he doesn't. He doesn't give it to anyone specific. He just leaves bags of it lying around where anyone can find them. That those places happen to be in poor quarters of cities and such is just a coi—"

"Are we done making fun of the way I spend my money?" Kafei asked, not even looking at them. He drew his sword and began to check it for nicks.

"Are you blushing?" Elenwe said.

No answer came. Elenwe grinned at Sheik in triumph, apparently taking the silence as a yes.

With nothing else to talk about, the companions began to occupy their minds with other things, checking their supplies and such. There was nothing to do but kill the time until Jeryd returned, hopefully with good news.

* * *

Ironhill really had changed in the few years he'd been gone, Jeryd decided. There were new buildings everywhere, buildings he didn't recognise. The streets had been redirected and rerouted, leading to places he had never seen before, squares that had definitely been garbage dumps or public conveniences before.

The number of inhabitants must have exploded, but what was the reason? The manufacturing district certainly seemed busier than ever, but was that just because of Rehm's influence? Or was there some other cause? Either way, it had completely transformed the city. Where the streets had mostly been dirt or, in rare cases, gravel, there were now cobbles and some sort of congealed, tarry substance that formed a hard surface.

At least there was still a curfew, even though it was largely ignored. Anyone acting too loudly or visibly in the streets were roughed up and thrown in the nick for the night. Luckily, Jeryd remembered the trick to moving about the streets at night and mostly kept to the shadows and, if a guard happened to spot him, quickly made himself scarce in the numerous alleys.

He arrived back at the square in front of the clock tower, trying to get his bearings. He had internalised the list of lookout spots for the assassins years ago, but for all he knew they could have been changed and moved. He had already looked at some of the usual haunts, though with no luck.

In the end, it turned out that he hadn't even needed to look. A figure was standing in the shadows, in the very same alley he and the others had made their temporary stop barely an hour before.

"How come I just _knew_ I would find you here?" the familiar voice asked.

Jeryd sighed. "Lez. What an...unexpected pleasure."

Lezal shook his head. "Pleasure is the last word I expected you to use, but I guess it was meant anything but genuinely." He held out a hand. "Come on, let's get out of the light and find somewhere...private to talk."

Knowing the tone of voice, Jeryd shook his head. "I sure hope you mean talk and not... _that_."

"It can mean anything you want."

"Eugh, you know why I'm here," he said, stepping into the alley. Lezal stepped in close, lowering his voice so that no one but Jeryd could hear.

"I can only assume it has something to do with those ships currently under construction in the machine halls," Lezal said, jerking his head in the direction of the manufacturing district. "Sabotage, perhaps?"

"You're well-informed," Jeryd said, staring at him.

"There are only so many conclusions that can be drawn from your presence here, considering your recent affiliations. The disappearance of Jedistern Tadian coincides quite handily with those conclusions, so...I want to hear it from your mouth."

"Fine, I'm here to sabotage the ships," Jeryd admitted, knowing there was no point in trying to hide his purpose from his friend. Or at least, he _hoped_ he was still his friend. Or acquaintance, at the very least.

"Not alone, either," Lezal continued, leaning closer. "You brought both of the Sheikah with you, and that Gerudo woman."

"What of it?" Jeryd said.

"Did you...perhaps aim to please the master?"

"Last thing on my mind, actually. Couldn't give any less of a shit about what he thinks."

"And yet, you know that in order to get inside those halls, you need our—or more specifically, _his_ —help." Jeryd could smell his breath now. Surprisingly fresh. Like always. "And _I'm_ the only one who can help you get back into his good graces long enough to please him permanently."

"I'm not making any deals," Jeryd said, pushing Lezal away, albeit gently. "Unless you're interested in helping us out of the kindness of your hearts, then we might as well part now."

Lezal laughed. "Kindness of our hearts? Do we even possess such a thing?"

"It was code for coin, you blithering idiot," Jeryd said.

"That would require...a large amount of coin, Jerry..."

"Don't call me that, and I know. I have such a sum stashed away, actually."

"Where?"

"You think I'm stupid enough to tell you that?"

"The master won't accept promises, Jer."

"Which is why I'll bring half of it to the meeting."

"Assuming there will be one. The order is out to kill you, remember. And speaking of that, I recall our last meeting ending with you claiming you were actively trying to die. What happened to that?"

"I...I'm not sure," Jeryd muttered, looking at his feet. He felt Lezal's hand on his chin, forcing it up so he could look him in the eyes. Lezal's face was hidden behind a mask and hood, but his eyes shone in the torchlight.

"Jer..."

Snapping out of it, Jeryd shook his head. "You know my purpose here, what I want and my terms. Can you arrange it?"

Drawing back, disappointed, Lezal nodded. "I believe so. The master will want to hear it in person, however."

"Fine, I'll come along—"

"All of you will," Lezal interrupted him. "That's the _master's_ term."

"Why?"

"A chance to meet not just _one_ real Sheikah, but _two_ happens to be something he does not wish to pass up. He's afraid he must insist. That is his only term, surely it is not that difficult to deliver?"

"I just don't think they will want to take the chance."

"They'd better, or you will have to find your own way into the halls." Lezal turned around, looking out across the square. "I'm taking a big risk on offering you this deal, Jer," he said quietly.

"I know," Jeryd said. "And I appreciate it."

"Enough to show it?" The assassin turned back around, lowering his mask. "For old times' sake?"

"You really aren't going to stop, are you?" Jeryd asked, rolling his eyes.

"I've never stopped thinking about you."

"You always were a sweet talker, Lez..."

"That's what attracted you to me in the first place, wasn't it?" Lezal laughed.

"That, and some other things," Jeryd said, smiling a bit at the feeling in his chest. Just like old times indeed. He stepped up to Lezal and gently kissed those familiar lips. It barely lasted a second. "There, that's all you're getting. I've moved on, and so should you."

"Never will," Lezal said, raising his mask again. "I will meet you and your...friends outside Jox's inn. Make sure to bring the coin."

"You know where we're staying?"

"If you're anything, Jeryd, it's predictable," Lezal said, surely grinning under his mask. "Besides, I've been keeping my eyes on you the second you entered the city. We still watch the old tunnels, after all."

* * *

**Soul Remnants  
Chapter 49**

* * *

"Absolutely not."

The answer left no room for negotiation, Jeryd knew. It was the fierce glare he received from Kafei that sealed it. And still, he had to try. Lezal and the guild were their best—if not only—bet to get inside the machine halls within any reasonable timeframe. One of the airships were almost ready, and if they didn't destroy it soon it would enter the service within weeks. And with _two_ airships, one of them actually made explicitly for fighting, harassing them, the rebellion would be finished in days.

Jeryd put on his most placating smile. "But surely you understand that we have no other choice here?" he said, looking pleadingly at both Sheik and Elenwe before returning his gaze to Kafei's. "The guilds is our only way in, and that is their term. They won't help us otherwise."

"We'll find another way," Kafei said resolutely.

"There _is_ no other way," Jeryd argued. "The checkpoints will recognize us immediately, the gate and wall defences are too tight and the guild guards all the tunnels. Either three options are we're all dead within minutes!" He looked at Sheik. "Sheik, you of all people should see that we have run out of options!"

"As much as I dislike it, I have to agree with Kafei," Sheik said, slowly shaking his head. "The potential for this to be a trap is far too great, no matter how much you vouch for this…friend of yours. I've a good mind to tell your master just how wrong the guild's perception of our people is, but the desire isn't _that_ strong."

"Elenwe?" Jeryd pleaded.

The Gerudo also shook her head. "I'm on the fence about this one," she said earnestly. "I agree with you on the fact that it's the only realistic option we have, but the broody brothers also have a point, even if paranoia ranks high on both of their lists of personal issues."

"Cousins," Sheik said quietly.

"Eh?"

"We're cousins, not brothers."

"I know, but the alliteration was too tempting to resist."

Jeryd sighed, knowing he was fighting a losing battle. He slumped on his bed, wincing as he immediately felt a metric ton of dust entering his nose and mouth. Resisting the urge to cough, he sat back up, staring at the three others. They all had points, of course, he knew. He suspected that Kafei and Elenwe's hesitation to go to the guild was rooted in their exceedingly large debt they had built up over the first few months they had been in Lumina. Sheik's…well, Sheik was always distrustful of everything and everyone, and was probably in no hurry to put his life into someone else's hands, even if that someone else had saved his life on at least one occasion before.

Even so, Jeryd found himself annoyed by his companions' stubbornness. And the fact the he was annoyed with them, annoyed him. And that made him annoyed with himself. And so continued the vicious circle of annoyance he suddenly found himself in. It ignited something within him, and he stood up, glaring at them.

"You know what?" he said. "I find myself confused by your presence here. You," he said, pointing at Sheik, "claim to be here, fighting in this war in order to save your princess from instant death by airship, correct?" He didn't wait for Sheik to respond. "You, who have lived most of your life in service to said princess, risking your life and limbs no matter how ridiculous her requests of you became!"

"Is there a point to this?" Sheik asked with a hint of warning in his voice.

"My point is that I'm confused by your sudden reluctance to do your duty," Jeryd continued, knowing he was gnawing at a very sore nerve in the youngest Sheikah's psyche. "If those ships are not destroyed by the time your monarch arrives, she will die. It's that simple. We have one way, _one shot_ to accomplish said task, and you refuse to take it?"

"My devotion does not make me stupid, Jeryd," Sheik replied, the warning in his voice gone, replaced by a tired tone. "I have been on the receiving end of lectures concerning it from both her and the Hero. Unnecessary risks are to be avoided, that is the one lesson I learned from the war with Ganondorf. We will find another way inside the halls—"

"But what if there _isn't_ one?" Jeryd pressed on. "What if the guild withdraws its offer, and we find out that this was the only viable course of action?"

Sheik glared at him, but didn't answer. Jeryd was almost surprised by the lack of a snappy comeback or thoughtful counter-argument. Perhaps he really did agree with Jeryd but was putting up a token resistance simply because he didn't like the idea. Come to that, Jeryd didn't like the idea either, but…

"And you two," he said, rounding on the other Sheikah and Gerudo. "I cannot for the life of me imagine why you're even here in the first place. You claim no allegiance to the princess," he said, pointing at Kafei, "and you are, to put it mildly, constantly pissed at your supposed partner and say you can't stand being around him. Why, for the love of the gods, are you here? I'm sure the general appreciates any help he can get, but giving it half-heartedly is just a piss-poor favour!"

"I have a debt to settle with my cousin," Kafei stated flatly.

"I have to make sure this dumbass doesn't get himself or his cousin killed," Elenwe replied just as flatly.

Jeryd stared at them in disbelief. And these two claimed to be _adults_? He sighed again and looked away. "Lumina is finished, then," he said quietly. "We might as well go back to camp and report to General Vortan that he might as well disband his army right now and hope that he won't be found by Rehm's execution squads that will certainly be roaming the countryside for years to come, searching for rebels."

"And you claim to be an optimist?" Sheik asked, crossing his arms. "What brought on the change?"

"Fuck if I know," Jeryd spat. "I guess I just thought a bit more highly of the Sheikah than was realistic."

"That's the smartest thing about us that you've said since I met you," Sheik said. "But your point is taken." He stretched, grimacing when his back cracked loudly. "We are on a very tight schedule, one that leaves little room for deviation, if any. We simply don't have time to search for any alternatives. I still think the plan stinks to high heaven, but I trust you enough to go along with it. For now."

"Seriously?" Kafei asked incredulously. "You're going along with it?"

"Like he said, we have no other choice. Those ships cannot be intact by the time Zelda arrives in Lumina," Sheik said, nodding at Jeryd. "For all we know, this master of his could be genuine and simply wishes to have an opportunity to talk to us. We will have a comfortable route into the halls, finish our sabotage and be out of the city before anyone even knows who we are."

"But—"

"However, if it does turn out to be a trap, I'm sure Jeryd will do his utmost to get us out of it, correct?"

The glare directed at him could only be agreed with. "O-of course," Jeryd replied.

"Good, then I trust you," Sheik simply said.

The revelation surprised Jeryd. Sheik still trusted him? After what he did in his drunken idiocy? He could scarcely believe it, but...Jeryd wasn't the type to look a gift horse in the mouth, and nodded appreciatively.

"And since you claim to follow simply because you owe me a debt," Sheik continued, looking at Kafei. "I will simply say that assisting us with sabotaging those ships will knock quite a dent into it."

"That's a dirty trick," Kafei muttered.

"And since Kafei's coming, it is only natural that Elenwe follows because she knows Kafei's incapable of looking out for himself, even if she hates his guts at the moment."

The Gerudo didn't say anything, only shook her head in exasperation.

"So there we are," Sheik said, looking at Jeryd with a raised eyebrow. "We are going. What is the next step?"

"Er...I..." Jeryd stammered. In a matter of less than a minute, Sheik had disarmed the hostility in the room with a few sentences...but at the same time, he had also reduced their companionship to a series of debts and obligations, effectively killing the friendly atmosphere stone dead, even if it had been shaky at best to begin with. Harsh, but necessary. Jeryd had seen it more than once during his time in the guild. Alliances between the novices were formed and severed at a moment's notice, but were usually upheld by similar systems. Some were good at keeping up appearances while others became bitter and barely spoke to each other at all. Jeryd hoped that the latter wouldn't happen. He liked these people, even if they could be infuriating. Then he realised Sheik hadn't reduced _their_ relationship to debts—mostly because any debts had already been settled just hours before, in the tunnel. So the trust was still there... That brought him more relief than he could have imagined. It made him want to grin stupidly, but fought the desire down.

"Lezal will meet us outside the inn in...an hour or so. He will take us to the guild headquarters."

"You trust this one?" Sheik asked.

"Yes," Jeryd lied. "We more or less grew up together, even though he's a bit older than me. He was the one who introduced me to the guild in the first place and convinced them to take me in. We were friends, we were...comrades," he finished, deciding not to reveal anything else about their relationship. It had been mutually beneficial, really.

Sheik nodded. "All right. Is there anything else we need to know?"

"Not that I can think of. Well, I suppose that it's a good idea to make sure everyone is respectful when you meet the master."

"What is this master of yours like?" Elenwe asked, still sounding bitter about being dragged into the venture again.

"Distant, never truly lets you know what he's thinking," Jeryd said, recalling the times he had spent in the master's chambers. "But he loves all his novices like a father." And sometimes not like a father at all, he added silently. "But he's wily as well, and difficult to pin down. I'd suggest being on your toes when meeting him."

Kafei groaned, but held his tongue.

Sheik rolled his eyes. "And you wonder why we are hesitant about this..."

"Actually, I don't, but point well taken. If you just stand there, looking menacing while I do the talking, we should be all right."

"Goody, can't wait," Elenwe said, shaking her head. "Well, if we're all going to get ourselves stupidly killed, captured or worse in an hour, I'd like for that to happen while my belly is full. I'm going downstairs and getting something to eat, I don't know about the rest of you." She stalked towards the door, Kafei hot on her heels, but silent.

When the door swung shut, Jeryd let out a relieved breath. He'd been expecting a much tougher battle against the other three, but Sheik had quickly decided it, sparing him a lot of trouble. Looking at the Sheikah in question, he opened his mouth to ask, but Sheik was faster:

"I'm putting my life— _our lives_ —in your hands, Jeryd," Sheik said quietly, looking intensely at him. "I hope you realise the gravity of it."

Jeryd nodded, but understood that there was something else the younger man wanted to straighten up. Making sure to look Sheik in the eye that actually worked, he said, "I understand. I also understand that you want to talk about something else as well. We might as well get it over with right away."

"You're correct," Sheik said. "You kissed me. Why?"

There it was. That question had been the one he feared the most, expecting it to be voiced every time Sheik had opened in his mouth in the past few days. And yet, it was also the question he wanted to hear the most, the one he wanted to clear up most urgently. Despite this, his mouth still flapped open and closed a few times. How did one answer such a question, after all?

"I...I'd say it's pretty obvious why I k-kissed you," Jeryd said, cursing his suddenly warm cheeks.

"Not quite," Sheik replied, pacing around the room. "You were, to put it mildly, inebriated at the time. For all I know, it was all drunken tomfoolery. A harmless prank that went wrong, a—"

"It wasn't that, all right?" Jeryd interrupted him, standing up. "You remember every word I said that night, do you not?" At the Sheikah's nod, he continued, "As do I, and I meant every word of it. My feelings are...genuine, and that is the honest truth." Might as well get it out of the way now, he figured. Crush it to death before it has a chance to bloom, and infect, and fester, and rot...

"So...you are...in love with me?" Sheik asked slowly, a blush staining his cheeks, visible despite the poor lighting in the room (none of them had bothered to light any of the candles while Jeryd was gone).

Feeling his cheeks getting even hotter, Jeryd nodded. "Yes, I am." Why did the boy have to be so utterly adorable and desirable, standing there like that? It was making the crushing a very _un_ desirable act. Despite his best efforts, the part of him that wanted nothing more than to take Sheik into his arms and do terrible but delightful things to him refused to be quelled.

It had been sneaky, that part. It hadn't truly let itself awaken until a few weeks ago, that night when he'd spoken to Lezal at the camp. Before that, it had disguised itself as simply admiration and desire for friendship with the Sheikah, nothing more. But now that the, er, cat was out of the bag, so to speak, there was no going back, and that part of him, the _pervert_ part, had quickly sought to gain control of everything. But Jeryd had fought it down, kept it submerged deep within his mind, trying to convince himself that it was just a friendship, and that was it! And then he had gotten drunk, and foolishly let his defences down, not thinking about the consequences at all. And what had happened? Disaster had struck, that's what happened.

The most infuriating part was the fact that it was a part of him he'd been sure he had killed off years before. But that was wrong, apparently. At least it was a valuable lesson that taught him to never ever take his eyes off himself lest he do something incredibly stupid.

"Well..." Sheik said, suddenly unable to meet Jeryd's eyes, timid like a waif. It did nothing to dampen Jeryd's urge to kiss him silly. "I'm...sorry, but n-nothing can come of it."

It shouldn't have hurt as much as it did. He'd been prepared for it, was expecting it. The rejection was what Jeryd _wanted_ , despite what his other, less rational parts claimed. The feeling of being stabbed in the heart with a stiletto, right in the very middle of all that mattered, was still painful, just as agonising as it had been the first time around. It was almost worse, in fact, because this time he'd been fighting it at every twist and turn. It was like being betrayed by his own emotions, forced to his knees and simply having to watch as he was torn to pieces on the inside.

None of it showed on the outside, of course. Jeryd had practiced for years to never truly let what he felt be apparent on his face or in his body language. He'd let the skill go unused around Sheik because he felt like he could trust him—but now, now he applied it like he never had before. Never show weakness, never admit it. That is how you spell your own doom.

He prepared to nod, mutter an agreement and quickly vacate the room, intending to spend the rest of the hour until Lezal showed up again staring at a wall in the tavern. Just because he'd just had his heart broken didn't mean he was going to let Sheik down. No, sir! He was going to show that he was still worthy of his trust, that he could still fight at one hundred percent capacity, shrugging it off like it was the most feathery of blows.

But his body, ever the traitor, decided to do something else. He felt his mouth open, knew the words that were being shaped by it, screaming inwardly when he couldn't stop it.

"You kissed me back."

Sheik's eyes widened, and his whole body stiffened. Shocked to the core, it took several seconds to come up with a reply, revealing just how bad it was.

"I...I suppose I did..." The blush was still there, but its nature seemed to have...changed. Before, it had been of embarrassment and perhaps a bit of shyness. That was one of the good kinds. Now, it was one of shame, coloured by Sheik's own memories of the evening, of his lips moving against Jeryd's, quiet moans of pleasure emanating from his mouth, fingers clutching eagerly at the human...

"So that means you feel _something_ for me, doesn't it?" Jeryd asked, still cursing his body for refusing to cooperate. He wanted it to stop...and yet, he wanted to keep going, wanted to hear the answer, wanted Sheik to admit that there was at least _some_ reciprocation! It would leave him feeling slightly less foolish, at the very least.

"N-no, that...it doesn't," Sheik said, clearly not convincing himself.

"You're never as honest as you are when drunk," Jeryd said, stepping closer to Sheik. "You might not have said it, but your body did. Otherwise you'd have pushed me away when you realised what I was doing."

"I did," Sheik protested, taking a step away, backing into the wall. "I punched you."

"Only because my hands were moving too fast," Jeryd said, not relenting, taking another step closer. "If I had waited...if I hadn't been so impatient...what do you think would have happened?" He was close to Sheik now, would only have to learn forward to get within the range he so desperately wanted to.

Sheik looked desperate, guilt and shame filling him to the brim now. It hurt Jeryd to see him like this, especially knowing he was the cause of it, but...he couldn't stop. He was beyond that point now.

"Nothing," the Sheikah said quietly. "N-nothing would have happened..."

"Why not?" Jeryd whispered.

"Link," Sheik said simply. The mere act of saying his lover's name seemed to fill him with new resolve, and he pushed Jeryd away, heading for the door. "I love Link," he said. "I'm sorry."

He didn't even bother to close the door, leaving it ajar as he quickly escaped the room, the situation and...Jeryd.

Groaning to himself, his rational mind finally regaining control, he slammed his forehead into the wall Sheik had been standing in front of just seconds before. It made him dizzy, but he clung to the rough boards until his vision stopped swaying. He cursed his own stupidity.

"Idiot, idiot, idiot," he growled. "You had the chance to end it on amicable terms, and you fucked it up. Fucked it up _good_." He punctuated the sentence with another head slam. He deserved it. Wanted it. _Needed it_. "Just ruined any hope of retaining his friendship too, you bloody moron." **Slam!** "Stupid." **Slam!** "Fucking." **Slam!** " _Moron!_ "

**SLAM!**

* * *

Lezal was waiting outside for them, leaning on the wall of the building opposite the inn. Jeryd led the way towards him. Straightening up, Lezal nodded.

"Gentlemen," he said. "And lady," he added.

"This is Lezal, my f—contact," Jeryd said, hastily correcting himself, causing Lezal's eyes to bore into the back of his head for a moment. Lezal had always been good at that, staring. "He will take us to the headquarters."

"It is an honour to finally meet real Sheikah," Lezal said, bowing his head in reverence. "If you would indulge me later, I have many questions."

"We will see," Kafei said before Sheik had a chance to respond. "We are on a very tight schedule."

"But of course, I meant no offense."

"None taken," Sheik said, shooting a glare at his cousin. "If there is time, we will answer anything you ask...aside from personal details, of course."

"My deepest and most heartfelt thanks," Lezal said, bowing his head again before looking at Jeryd. "There is the matter of the...payment?" he asked pointedly.

"Right, right," Jeryd said, sighing and pulling a heavy, coin-filled purse from his pocket. "Half now, five hundred," he said and dropped it into Lezal's outstretched hand. "Do you want to count it?"

"No, I trust that you wouldn't be stupid enough to short-change us."

"Pardon for me for intruding," Kafei said, his voice tense, "but where the hell did you get that money and why the hell didn't you tell us you had it?"

"They're from my emergency stash," Jeryd said defensively. "Hid it in the room Jox kept on hold for me. Was supposed to be for rainy days, should they ever come."

"That's one hell of an emergency stash," Elenwe noted.

"Jeryd never spent any of the money he earned while working here," Lezal said as he subtly began moving through the alley, waving his hand for them to follow. "I was surprised, because he took in quite a bit of it while w—"

"They do not need to know any details of what I did, Lez," Jeryd said, interrupting him. "Only that it was...profitable."

"Huh, more profitable than it was for anyone else, that's for damn sure."

"I'm sensing subtext," Elenwe said. "Care to elaborate?"

"On this subject, I'm afraid not," Jeryd said sternly. It was not a chapter of his life he was proud of, even if it had left him a rather sizeable emergency fund. " Clearing his throat, he changed the subject. "So, have the headquarters moved? I couldn't for the life of me figure out the way..."

"It hasn't moved, but the entire street around it was demolished to make way for new and more exciting construction projects," Lezal said. "Namely, gambling dens and other houses of vices."

"Wonderful, as if that particular street needed any more of them," Jeryd muttered. "And I assume the business at our place hasn't changed at all?"

"Not in any way."

"Fantastic."

"You know what I hate?" Sheik said quietly, mostly to Kafei and Elenwe. "Being left out of conversations." The others nodded in agreement.

That promptly caused Jeryd to shut his mouth. He was on very thin ice with Sheik at the moment, and he had no intention of treading through and ruin everything. He had no idea if he had repeated their conversation in the inn to the others, but decided to be very careful—just in case he had. Lezal noticed the reaction, looking unsubtly from Jeryd to Sheik and back to Jeryd before grunting. Jeryd could see the wrinkles around his eyes—meaning that the bastard was grinning under his mask, his eyes twinkling like diamonds.

"Stop that," he told Lezal.

"Stop what?" Lezal asked, wrinkles becoming even more prominent.

" _That_!"

"No idea what you're talking about."

Taking a breath to compose himself, Jeryd reassumed the silent treatment, glaring at the older man when he began to chuckle.

"Oh, how I've missed annoying you."

They reached the clock tower square again, for the third time that night. Jeryd was honestly getting sick of that stupid clock, backlit by torches and leering down at anyone passing beneath it. It felt like it was mocking him.

"Five blocks t to the east," Lezal announced, heading in the direction that Jeryd had had a suspicion about all along.

"I was sure it was three," he said casually.

"Used to be. Then they demolished the entire neighbourhood and rebuilt it," Lezal replied. "Made it _nice_ and more _appealing_ to the investors' _key demographics_ , or so we were told. Not that it stopped the whores, thieves and smugglers from returning a few weeks after completion." He chuckled again. "Nor did it stop us from reclaiming it."

"So, it's still under our control?"

" _Our_ control, yes," Lezal said, stressing the 'our', as if to make it painfully obvious to Jeryd that he was no longer considered a part of the guild. "City officials tried to boot us out, but we showed them what's what. Didn't even have to kill anyone—the threat of it was enough."

"How charming," Sheik drawled.

"Way of the world, I'm afraid," Lezal said. "Surely you are used to such things?"

"Yes, but that does not mean I agree with them."

"An optimist? A rare thing in this day and age."

"Not an optimist."

"I can vouch for that," Jeryd said.

"We all can," Kafei added.

Sheik glared at each one of them in turn.

"I am not an optimist," the youngest member of the party continued. "I'm a realist. But that does mean I cannot wish things were different."

"True," Lezal agreed. "And that is an attitude that I believe is echoed throughout the entire city—and yet no one acts on it."

"Because they are afraid?" Elenwe asked.

"No, they're simply lazy."

"A sweeping condemnation."

"Accurate observance." Lezal pointed them to the left, heading down a broad street that seemed to be completely deserted by both guards and inhabitants alike. "Remember this place, Jerry?"

Gritting his teeth at the use of the old nickname, Jeryd shook his head. "No. Or, I remember the name of the street, but I'm quite sure it wasn't this wide."

"It wasn't. We're walking through the old meat market right now. Look, there's one of the blood drains." They stepped over a large, solid grate. A distressing smell emanated from it. "Turned into a proper sewer now. Not big enough for people to squeeze through, of course. It's as if the officials don't trust the citizens to keep out of them."

"But they do?"

"The upstanding ones, certainly."

"Upstanding people? Here?"

"Apparently, yes. Surprised the hell out of me too."

"Right...two blocks and a right from here, then?" It was no wonder Jeryd hadn't been able to find his way—the whole layout of the streets had been changed. A few years ago, this place would have been crowded and busy twenty-four hours a day, filled with the smell of meat, distressed animals and the droppings that resulted from said distress. It had been easy to lose pursuers through here on account of the constant press of butchers, customers and pickpockets that milled about, running their errands and doing their jobs. Jeryd had walked through it every day, making it a part of his routine. Somehow, he always found himself with more coins in his pocket emerging from it than he'd had when going in. The memory brought a small smile to his lips, which Lezal seized upon immediately.

"Nostalgic?" he asked.

"Perhaps a little," Jeryd admitted, killing the smile upon realising he was doing it.

"You should smile more. You're a lot cuter when you do."

The statement was completely ignored, especially the sidelong glance from Sheik that Jeryd could practically _feel_.

They did walk another two blocks and take a right, and Jeryd started to feel like he wasn't completely lost after all. But then he was confronted with a series of buildings that had definitely not been there before. Lezal led them on a labyrinthine past through them, heading for the centre, by the looks of it. The closer they got, the more people appeared on the streets, and things got louder. Much louder. There were no guards here, so people were drunkenly shouting at each other from distances up to five inches, not fearing any repercussions. Booths were lined up along the street, most of them selling items that could best be described as dubious. There was even one that seemed to be selling...adult novelty items. Then there were the gambling dens, the fighting pits, the whorehouses...

"The leisure district, they call it!" Lezal announced to them. "Not an official part of the city of course, but definitely the most crowded!"

Jeryd noticed that Sheik seemed highly uncomfortable in this place and moved slightly closer, though not so close as to make it obvious. Kafei looked positively bored while Elenwe was looking here and there with great enthusiasm, enthralled. He could never tell with that girl.

They finally reached the centre of this new district, and Jeryd couldn't help but let eyes widen in surprise. The headquarters looked just like it had when he'd left Ironhill for Lumina City. The three-story, arched wooden palace that seemed innocuous at first glance, but hid a dark secret within. The architecture didn't fit in with the newer, bricked buildings at all, further singling it out. The wide porch, the enticing glow from the windows covered in paper, the silent-but-friendly guards that weren't quite guards standing outside...all designed to make it look harmless and inviting. And if those didn't help, the rows of red lights in the second and third story windows were certainly a dead giveaway.

"A brothel?" Sheik asked. "The assassins' guild headquarters is a brothel?"

"We prefer the term 'house of negotiable affection'," Lezal said. "But basically, yes."

"It's a cover," Jeryd added. "Probably the most effective one."

"Plus, it's a nice source of income in addition to the other services we offer. Shall we go in?" Lezal didn't wait for an answer and headed for the stairs to the porch, nodding to the guards. They wore civilian outfits, but the outlines of weapons could be seen underneath them. It served as a warning to those who bore the place ill will. As they passed them by, Jeryd wondered how the hell one of them had managed to shove a mace down his trouser leg, but did not voice the question. Some things were better left to the imagination, he supposed.

Another wave of memories was unleashed upon his mind as they walked through the door. The noise of guests and clients, the warmth from the multiple fireplaces, the smell from countless scented candles and perfume, the house band playing the same melody they'd played as he left...but then came the unpleasant ones as well, the ones he'd tried his hardest to forget, to repress until the end of time...

Contrary to the city around it, The Gilded Cock (a rather tasteless name no matter from what perspective you looked at it) had not changed at all. The same dark red drapes covered the walls to give it a 'classy' look, the lighter red tablecloths, the wooden benches and private booths for clients who preferred to not have their tastes laid bare for the entire world to see.

Lezal led them to one of the booths close to one of the fireplaces. The table was low, almost touching the floor, and instead of chairs there were cushions placed around it. The rest of the floor was covered in soft carpet.

"Have a seat," Lezal offered. "I will need to speak to the superiors to arrange everything. Wait here, please." He drew the curtains that shielded them from the rest of the place shut before leaving.

Jeryd felt three pairs of eyes on him and slowly lifted his head to meet them. He knew exactly why they were staring. The working girls and boys of the brothel came in all shapes and sizes, some of them quite young—too young. It was always rough on first-timers to see it.

"I find this place...tasteless," Kafei simply said. "Some of those boys and girls couldn't have been more than fourteen."

"Believe me, I have heard everything there is to say about this place a million times each," Jeryd said, pre-emptively disarming any possible arguments. "It is not a discussion that will yield results. The guild runs this place however it pleases, and no amount of complaining will change it. It will probably just get you killed, in fact."

"You support...this?" Elenwe asked, horrified.

"No," Jeryd said. "Never did. But I was never given a choice in the matter. Or, I _was_ given a choice, but it was rather lacking in positive alternatives. I could either deal with it, or be killed. By the time I came here, I was too far in to ever get back out without serious consequences. For a fourteen-year-old boy, the choice was simple."

Sheik's eyes widened, and Jeryd knew he'd made a mistake mentioning his age.

"You...worked here?" he asked slowly.

Jeryd sighed. Well, there was no point in trying to hide it since Sheik had already deduced his not-so-well-hidden secret. He nodded. "All assassin novices are forced to work here. It's...part of our training."

"What possible kind of training could you...oh," Elenwe began, realising it halfway through.

"The art of seduction and bed chambers are important skills for any assassin to learn," Jeryd said simply. "The guild has simply...optimised the way we learn them."

"So...when the Lezal fellow said you earned a lot of money here..." Kafei began, trailing off.

"We're given a percentage of the fees we bring in," Jeryd said, the feeling of shame he'd been able to ignore for such a long time creeping up on him. "I saved up the money I made and put it into a nest egg...which I am now using to pay the debt I owe to the guild for leaving my position. I'm not sure if it's enough, but..."

He wanted to groan when saw sympathy in the eyes of all three. That was the last thing he wanted.

"We're not treated badly," he said. "We're looked out for, protected by the more senior assassins who guard the place. Any rowdy and abusive customers and clients are tossed out the second they start acting out."

"But still...you were a child," Elenwe breathed.

Shaking his head, Jeryd didn't reply. He felt sick to his stomach, trying to defend this place. He wasn't trying to defend it, not really. He simply wanted his companions to understand that it wasn't as bad as it looked...but then he realised his own folly, considering the nature of the establishment and what it did to its very young workers. It left him confused and wanting a strong drink, but surely there wasn't...

He noticed a drawstring on the wall. Of course. Pulling it would cause a bell mounted on the outside of the booth to ring, summoning a nearby...worker. The atmosphere of the place, combined with the pitying and slightly judgemental looks he was getting from Sheik, kafei and Elenwe was starting to feed the tiny, claustrophobic feeling in his chest. He needed a drink, and by the gods was he going to get one. He pulled on the string. The sudden noise from the bell surprised the other three. Elenwe even jumped.

"What did you just do?" Kafei asked suspiciously.

"I'm thirsty," Jeryd simply said.

The curtains were suddenly drawn aside, and a boy stepped through. He was wearing a tight-fitting outfit consisting of a short-sleeved, red shirt and leather trousers that accentuated his thin, slightly waifish build. His hair was shoulder-length and dirty blonde, tied into a loose ponytail. His eyes were a striking blue, accentuated further by the makeup that lined them. His cheek had been tattooed with a pair of delicate, interlacing lines of black—definitely a guild mark, though its significance was unknown to Jeryd.

He wore a leisurely and slightly seductive smile on his face, looking at them. On a boy that looked to be about Ard's age, it was a troubling sight, mostly because he remembered making the exact same expression when he was that age, no matter how disgusting or rough the clients had been.

"You called, sirs, madam?" he said in a happy-sounding voice. "How may I be of...assistance tonight?" As he said it, he sized them all up and down.

There was something about him that was familiar to Jeryd, but he couldn't quite place it... "We would like some drinks," he said, noticing that the boy was paying extra attention to him. He didn't like it.

"Certainly," the boy said, nodding. "What would you like?"

"A large whis—"

"Water, for all of us," Sheik cut in, looking at Jeryd in a way that clearly conveyed that no alcohol was to be imbibed tonight.

"As you wish," the boy replied, looking slightly confused at the exchange of meaningful looks, but shrugging it off quickly. "Is there anything else I can get you... _or do for you_?" His voice fell a few octaves at the last part. Jeryd knew how forced it was, but damned if it didn't sound...enticing.

"No, that will be all," Sheik said. "Thank you."

Looking almost disappointed, the boy closed the curtains and left to get their drinks. Immediately Jeryd was beset by looks.

"Are you insane?" Sheik asked. "This is no time for drinking!"

"I need something to calm my nerves!" Jeryd protested. "This place, it's...I don't like it here. Too many memories—they keep piling on, feels like I'm being crushed by a mountain's worth of them..."

Sheik's eyes softened, but his expression remained firm. "I'm sorry, but no drinking on the job."

Sighing, Jeryd nodded in misery. He understood why, of course. Didn't make the memories any more pleasant. He had never served anyone in this particular booth, he recalled. He had usually been roaming around the main chambers before accompanying someone upstairs. At least the rooms provided a little...privacy, he supposed. Some customer liked to just go at it in the booths, which was always an embarrassing affair for the worker involved.

The boy soon returned with four glasses of water. He delicately put them on the low table; his shirt sliding up to reveal what he probably hoped was enticing flesh for all four of them. Oldest trick in the book, it was, and Jeryd could only slightly roll his eyes at the display.

"Are you quite sure I can't provide with any other services?" the boy asked. Jeryd continued to study his face, trying to figure out what it was that made him so familiar. Their eyes met, and something apparently clicked into place in the boy's mind, for his eyes widened. "Jeryd?" he said, "Is that you?"

"Er...yes?" Jeryd replied, confused. The boy knew who he was, but how? "Do I know you?"

"It's been a while, but...it's me, Lor!"

Lor...Lor...Lora...

"Lorasi? Is that you?" The face finally clicked into place, and Jeryd felt a certain elation to see him.

"Yeah, it's me!" Lorasi, Lor for short, grinned, nodding. "What the hell are you doing here?" he asked. "I heard you'd left the guild and everything." Gone was any attempt at seducing the group, the assumed role of rent boy discarded like a set of clothes.

"It's a long story," Jeryd said. "And I don't think I have the time to tell it."

"Going to introduce us to your friend, Jeryd?" Elenwe asked.

"Ah, sorry. Lor, this are my...partners. This is Sheik, Kafei and Elenwe."

"Nice to meet you, I'm—ah, you're...you're-!"

Lor had noticed Sheik and Kafei's rather unique features. Jeryd nipped the exclamation in the bud.

"Yes, they're Sheikah, and keep your voice down!" he hissed. "We're here on business!"

"Sorry," Lor said, almost whispering. "I was just...surprised. It's an honour."

"All right, all right," Jeryd said, noticing Lezal emerging from behind the bar, walking in their direction. He'd taken off his mask and hood, and the frown on his face told bad news. "Listen, Lor, we're here to see the master. Depending on how it goes, we can talk later, okay?"

Disappointed, Lor nodded. "Okay, Jer," he said. Noticing that someone was standing behind him, he gasped when Lezal slapped him.

"Don't you have some _duties_ to attend to, boy?" Lezal said, pushing Lor aside. "The master will see you now. Do you have the rest of the money?"

"You'll get them when we're in his _illustrious_ presence," Jeryd said, glaring at him. That was no way to treat a fellow assassin, even if he was still a novice. "Now take us to him."

"Follow me," Lezal said, paying no attention Jeryd's displeasure.

Sheik walked beside him as they followed Lezal.

"Who is that boy?" he asked quietly, his voice barely audible over the noise of the brothel.

Jeryd looked in Lor's direction. The boy was holding his cheek, looking after them with a hurt expression. "The only friend I have left in this place," he whispered.

* * *

**Soul Remnants  
Chapter 50**

* * *

The backrooms of the Gilded Cock were a drab contrast to its public areas. There were no decorations whatsoever on the beige-painted walls, and the lighting was pale and weak. The hallways beyond were labyrinthine and confusing, apparently designed that way by choice in order to confuse any possible intruders—if they even got that far to begin with. The men and women behind the bar in the brothel were instructed to kill any unauthorised people who encroached on their territory.

Lezal was silent as he led Sheik and the others to the master's chambers. Jeryd knew the way—he had walked the route so many times himself that he could probably have done it while blindfolded. At least there was _one_ aspect of Ironhill that hadn't changed. He noticed that Sheik, Kafei and Elenwe were looking carefully around them, noting landmarks and counting corners in order to remember their route in and out. Jeryd wanted to laugh and shake his head—Lezal was leading them in circles to prevent them from figuring out the way. It was common practice with all outsiders who visited the guild, but he kept his mouth shut about it all the same; mentioning it would only make the others suspicious and twitchy—and that could spell their doom.

"This place hasn't changed at all," he finally said, trying to kill the silence that hung over them like a soundproof lid. "Same cheery, morgue-like hallways and everything."

"We don't like change," Lezal said simply, not even looking at him when Jeryd sidled up beside him, deciding to take control. He began leading them in the right direction, ignoring the look of amusement that crossed the older man's face.

It didn't take long before they were standing outside a heavy steel door that looked wildly out-of-place compared to the rest of the building. Jeryd knew that the master's chambers were built like a bunker, designed to be able to keep people indefinitely...or people _in_ , should it be necessary. The complex series of locks and warning devices ensured that no one would be able to get inside without alerting the entire guild; there was only one set of keys, and that belonged to the master, and he wasn't liable to give it up easily as he kept it on his person at all times.

Jeryd drew a breath and swallowed heavily. He'd forgotten just how intimidating it was to stand outside this door. For a young novice, it was damn near enough to make the heart stop beating. There were only two reasons for why novices were sent to the master. The first was to receive punishment for any transgressions, and the other...the other only made him shudder. Lezal noticed and put a hand on his shoulder, a gesture of comfort that fell flat because Jeryd knew what Lezal was capable of.

"Are you all right, Jeryd?" Sheik asked, giving him a concerned look. Jeryd briefly wondered if it was feigned or genuine. Things had been even more awkward between them after their confrontation at the inn, and he wasn't sure if Sheik cared anymore. But he saw no trace of lies or dishonesty in the Sheikah's eyes. Wordlessly, he nodded, to which Sheik nodded back.

"He doesn't like to be kept waiting," Lezal said, raising his hand to knock on the door.

"I know that!" Jeryd snapped, rapping—more like slamming—his knuckles into the metal before Lezal had a chance.

"Enter," a weary voice said from within, and Jeryd's breath hitched when he heard it. Some things never changed, he realised, and the master's voice definitely hadn't. And hearing it began to bring up even more memories he'd thought to be dead and buried deep within his mind. But it all came rushing back, and he felt sick to his stomach. How could he ever have been _proud_ to be a part of this place?

Noticing Jeryd's hesitation, Lezal reached over and twisted the doorknob. The door, heavy and massive, swung open without a sound, revealing that it was very well cared for. Jeryd had forgotten how thick it was—many, many inches, as were the walls, which were solid stone. It would take ages to break in or out of it without the keys.

Contrary to what most people expected, the master's chambers were neither dark nor dreary. A welcoming fire burned behind the grate in the fireplace, providing the chambers with a comfortable heat. The floors were parquet and a series of expensive carpets littered it. The walls were covered in wood panels, in front of which stood numerous bookshelves filled with many tomes, rare and common, expensive and cheap. The master enjoyed reading, caring not what the subject was. Beautiful paintings hung above the shelves, depicting beautiful landscapes and happy, smiling people. On the other side of the room, across from the fireplace, stood a large, oak desk, covered in paperwork and various trinkets. All in all, it looked like a cosy study and library for someone who had only joy in their life.

An old man sat behind the desk, looking at them with an expectant and kindly smile, his fingers steepled in front of him. He had bushy eyebrows, and a prominent nose that was permanently red, though no one knew from what. His milky eyes were filled with admiration as he observed his visitors, a big grin revealing a set of perfectly healthy, white teeth. He was bald—having decided to shave it all off when a very noticeable thinning of his crown had begun to show itself. A small, well-maintained moustache graced his upper lip, while his chin was smooth. Rising to his feet as the visitors came closer; he began laughing and rounded the desk, drawing Jeryd into a tight embrace.

"Gods, Jeryd, it is good to see you," he announced, nearly crushing the life out of Jeryd before releasing him. "My, how you've grown."

"Master," Jeryd replied curtly, thrown off by the friendly greetings. He had expected a chilly acknowledgment of his return and a demand for money, but this...

"And you have brought some esteemed friends," the master continued, looking at Sheik, Kafei and Elenwe, shaking their hands each in turn. "Welcome," he said. "It is an _honour_ to have Sheikah visit our humble guild."

"The pleasure is ours, sir," Sheik said, his inner diplomat surely coming to bear judging by the serene smile he had on his face. Jeryd could see that it was fake from a mile away, having spent so much time working on his own abilities to hide and display emotions at will. The master must have known as well, but he made no comment about it.

"Please, call me Malcolm," the master said, bowing his head slightly. It was a code name, Jeryd thought. No one knew the master's real name.

"As you wish," Sheik continued. "I am Sheik of the Sheikah, and this is my cousin, Kafei, and my friend Elenwe."

"An honour," _Malcolm_ repeated, bowing his head again. "Am I to assume that Master Kafei is the one who hired us half a year ago?"

"Yes," Kafei said, "and I fully intend to pay for—"

"Please, my friend, there is no need to concern yourself with such matters at this time," Malcolm said, retreating behind his desk and motioning for them all to sit in four comfortable chairs placed in front of it. "Sit, sit, I will not have my guests standing on their weary legs. Lezal, please bring us some wine, so we—"

"I am afraid that we do not drink when we are on duty," Sheik said, squashing Jeryd's hopes to numb himself thoroughly to everything that could happen during the meeting. "It is our code, and I believe Jeryd and Elenwe will agree with it."

"Ah, I understand," Malcolm said gravely, nodding. "I am glad to see that Jeryd has seen fit to adopt your code as his own."

From the look Kafei shot him, Jeryd knew exactly what comment he wanted to make.

Looking at Lezal, Malcolm nodded again. "Then that will be all, Lezal. Please wait outside."

"Of course, Master," Lezal replied and left the room, his gaze lingering on Jeryd for a few seconds, much to the younger man's discomfort.

"Always so formal, that one," Malcolm said, shaking his head. "Now, I understand that you have business in this city, and that you require our assistance? It all sounded quite secretive and exciting."

"Yes," Kafei said, clearing his throat before Sheik had a chance to open his mouth. It was amusing for Jeryd to see the two cousins subtly competing for leadership of the group. He had only noticed it the day before, but thinking back he realised it had been going on for a long time. It manifested itself in the form of who could speak first when meeting with someone, and it was usually Sheik who won, but now Kafei was in the lead. He almost let a smile cross his face until he realised where they were and kept his face carefully neutral. The master was refusing to look at him, he noticed. That was...interesting. "We are on a mission to...perform some actions in the machine halls," Kafei continued, "and we were told by Jeryd that you would have a way for us to get inside them."

Malcolm looked from Kafei to Jeryd and back in a split-second, almost invisibly fast. "I suspected as much," he said. "These...actions would not have anything to do with the airships under construction, would they? I have heard that _The Chimera_ has been offering the rebels some substantial difficulties. I can only imagine the carnage another two of them would unleash upon them. Is that why you are here? To sabotage them?"

"With all due respect, sir, our business is our own. We simply need your help to get inside the halls," Sheik spoke up, still smiling that respectful little smile of his.

Malcolm nodded, but made a disagreeing sound. "As much as I wish to leave you to your privacy, Master Sheik—"

"Just Sheik, please," Sheik said. "I am no master."

"In this guild, you are," Malcolm said, winking. "And you are also a noble, so it is either 'Master' or 'My lord', whichever you prefer."

Sheik looked positively embarrassed by this, but nodded. "Master, then," he said.

"Excellent," Malcolm said. "Like I said, I would like nothing more than to leave you to your business, but you must also understand that I am putting myself and this guild branch at risk by helping you like this, if you're going to do what I suspect. Someone will undoubtedly know how you got inside, and that will reflect negatively upon the Cock. Guards might come knocking, soldiers perhaps. Not that they don't already do, but that's for a different reason entirely." He chuckled at his own joke. "I feel that I deserve _some_ insight into what you are doing here, don't you?"

Elenwe made a tch-ing sound and nodded. "We're here to sabotage the airships. There, happy?" Her frown made it very clear that she did not like Malcolm in the slightest.

"I am," Malcolm said, nodding. "And I am very happy to say that we will do our utmost to help you, in exchange for a...favour, of course."

"And that favour is?" Kafei asked.

"That our guild historian is allowed to ask you questions about you and your people," Malcolm said, leaning forward with a broad, eager smile. "As Jeryd has probably already told you, we have modelled ourselves on you, and we admire you quite a bit. It would be an honour if we could know just a little bit more about you!"

"I suppose that is...agreeable," Sheik said. "But could it wait until _after_ we have completed out mission here? Time is running out, you see, and—"

"Say no more," Malcolm said, holding up a hand. "It will take a day or so to reopen and prepare the tunnels for your entry into the machine halls, during which you will be more than welcome to stay here and recuperate. Jox's inn has its charm, but I believe we can offer something better. This mission of yours will probably cause quite an uproar in the city, and I believe it would be good idea to hide here for a while until the heat dies down. Perhaps the historian can have his interview then?"

"Agreed," Kafei said.

"Excellent!" Malcolm exclaimed, rising from his chair. "I shall have crews begin to open the tunnels immediately. In the meantime, Lezal will take you to the room I have had prepared for you. I hope the young lady does not mind sharing it with her companions?"

"I'll be quite fine, thank you," Elenwe said.

"Marvellous."

"Sir, I believe there is still the matter of payment," Sheik said. "We do not have any money at the moment, but—"

"Please, no more talk of money," Malcolm said. "I am given to understand that you are all fighting for the good of Lumina, and I cannot ignore my civil duty to render as much assistance as you need. This is free of charge to you."

"Well...thank you, then," Sheik said, surprised by the generosity.

"My pleasure." He clapped his hands, and Lezal re-entered the room. "Please take our guests to their room, Lezal," he said.

"As you wish," Lezal replied. "Follow me, please."

"One moment, Jeryd," Malcom said just as Jeryd was about to pass through the door, his relief ruined immediately. "I would like a word with you, in private. Oh, do not worry, my friends, I am simply interested in catching up with an old friend."

Nodding helplessly, knowing there was nothing to do about it, Jeryd turned back around to face him, catching Sheik looking at him with worry just before door closed.

Both men were quiet for a minute, staring at each other, all pretence gone.

"So, you dare show your face here again, traitor," Mal—the master said.

"I have paid my fine," Jeryd said coldly, fishing out the second pouch of gold and throwing it onto the master's desk. "A thousand gold."

"That is all well and good," the master said, motioning for Jeryd to return to the desk, which he did with a lot of reluctance. "Even if it isn't enough."

Gaping, Jeryd looked at him. "What? That's exactly what it costs to—"

"Do not presume to tell me my own rules, _boy_ ," the master said icily. "I was the one who wrote them. The price for _your_ particular little...abandonment is higher, for you threw away a position we struggled at great length to provide you with. You left your post without permission and have presumably been wasting your time gallivanting around the countryside, imagining yourself as a freedom fighter. Well, no more. The price for your betrayal is ten thousand gold pieces." His voice wasn't even raised—that was the worst part. It was simply quiet, low, menacing...the exact same voice that had scared Jeryd out of his mind when he was fourteen.

"T-ten thousand?" Jeryd exclaimed. "What...I...how am I supposed to pay _that_?"

"That is not my problem, Jeryd," the master said, standing in front of him, holding out his hand. "Do you have it?"

"Of course I bloody don't!" snarled Jeryd. Unable to control himself, he sent a fist flying at the man, but gasped when his wrist was caught and his arm wrenched behind him. He groaned in pain when he was thrown against the desk, bent forward with the master's weight keeping him down. So much for the love he felt for his novices, he thought.

"You have grown insolent," the master said quietly into his ear. "Belligerent. Those are not qualities I have instilled in you, Jeryd. I don't think freedom agrees with you—it turns you into something you're not."

"Let. Me. Go," Jeryd said slowly and quietly, trying in vain to fight against the old man, but there was a surprising amount of strength left in the seemingly frail body. Just like old times...

"I don't think I will," the master whispered, letting his free hand find its way around to Jeryd's front, slowly sliding down until it rested on his groin. Chuckling when an outraged gasp came from the younger man, he licked the shell of his ear. "I think I will enjoy this position a little more, in fact. It reminds me of the old days, when you were so... _obedient_. You listened to my every word, did everything I said..."

"Because I was afraid for my life," Jeryd growled, feeling the walls of the room closing in around him as the hand cupped him through his trousers. No, no, no, not now, not another panic attack! "Never because I wanted to!"

"Enough," the master said and slammed Jeryd's head hard into the desk, leaving him dazed and unable to resist as the master began fumbling with his belt. "You will accept this without a sound, boy, just like you did all those years ago. Refuse, and I will have your friends in the dungeons before you can scream."

"Y-you wouldn't," Jeryd whimpered. "They're too i-important. S-Sheikah—"

"Exactly," the master said, grinning. "Sheikah. You have finally brought me some...and it will tally positively in your favour, my dear..." He kissed the back of Jeryd's neck, causing him to shudder. "Now be quiet...and enjoy..."


	6. Chapter 6

* * *

**Soul Remnants  
Chapter 51**

* * *

"How are you feeling?" Angen asked as he watched Link go through some basic attacks on imaginary opponents. The Hero's movements were stiff and slightly slower than usual, hinting that he was still not completely mended.

"I'd think it's obvious how I feel," Link replied, annoyance coating his words. He felt about immediately after—Angen had only meant to be polite. "Sorry," he said, relaxing his pose—slowly as to not aggravate his back. "It just...annoys me. I can't move like I'm used to." He looked at the innkeeper. "It's frustrating," he finished lamely.

"No offense taken," Angen said, nodding. "I understand how you feel. You're a warrior, and you're reliant on your body being at its best at all times. What Iteos did...that was a dirty trick, and as a knight he should've been above it."

Well, he had good reason to win, Link thought, though he didn't say it. No one could know about the bet he'd made with the arsehole knight. "I guess he just _really_ wanted to win," he offered up.

"Maybe if he'd been fighting for his life such methods could be condoned, but...nah, you just don't do that to a sparring partner," Angen said. "If it'd been me, I would've bided my time and exacted bloody vengeance."

That's what I've wanted for the past week, Link thought. "Not my style," Link grunted.

"Didn't think it'd be," Angen agreed. "You're a rare breed. Honourable men and women are hard to find these days. Most of them happen to be in this camp, even if they mix with...undesirables."

Link grinned. "Are these the same undesirables you get drunk with every Friday?" The way Angen's face fell made him guffaw with laughter, something he immediately regretted when his back gave a twinge of pain in return. "I was kidding," he added.

"I'm not a man of honour, I can drink with anyone I like," Angen said mock-defensively. They shared a laugh.

Link felt his shoulders falling slightly in relief. He'd been on edge the entire week, especially the times Iteos had, for the lack of a better term, checked in on him and his injury. The human was impatient to claim his prize, by the sound of it, and every time he asked politely if his back was feeling better, Link wanted nothing more than to chop his head off, and that scared him, because Link had never truly _wanted_ to kill someone. Well, there was Ganondorf...and Speil...and those who hurt Sheik, but apart from those, he'd never wanted to kill someone. And he didn't _want_ to want either.

"Can I ask you a question?" Angen said.

"Go ahead," Link said, shaking the ugly thoughts from his mind and reassuming his stance, mentally cursing his back to hell for refusing to cooperate. He winced when he tried to do a simple swing and it felt like something tore.

"Why's Iteos so interested in knowing how you're doing?" It was an innocent enough question, probably no malicious thoughts behind it, but Link couldn't help but hate the innkeeper right then and vaguely contemplated telling him to go away...but Link couldn't bring himself to be rude either. Not when he wasn't the first to draw, so to speak, at least.

"We...made a bet," Link said.

That was a good start.

"A bet? About what?"

"About who'd win the fight, of course."

Promising, promising.

"I see... What were the stakes?"

"Er...gold."

Stupid, stupid, stupid...

"Gold, huh? How much?"

"More than I have ever owned." Not that I've ever owned any gold to begin with. Rupees, sure, but no gold, Link thought. From the way Angen's eyebrows rose, he must have known Link was lying, but he said nothing about it. "Dumbest bet I've ever made," he added, as if to make an already unconvincing lie worse.

"Aye, sounds about right," Angen said, mercifully not pushing the question. "Might want to be careful around that one. Hear he's pretty merciless when it comes to collecting his debts."

"I'll make a note of it," Link acknowledged.

"Right, I should be getting back to the sick tent, Agneta's going to ride my ass if I extend my break any longer," Angen said, turning back towards the camp. "And I do mean that literally."

"Thank you, that's exactly the mental image I needed to finish my training," Link drawled.

"Heh, anything to be of assistance. Oh, and Hero," Angen paused and gave Link a serious look. "You're a terrible liar. Whatever you do, or don't do, don't let Sheik find out."

"I...what?" Link's face fell. "What are you talking about?" he yelled after him, but the innkeeper didn't answer. "He knew...he bloody _knew_!"

"That he did," Iteos said, stepping out from behind a tree, grinning as Link jumped with surprise. "Scared you, did I?" The knight chuckled as he stepped into the informal little fighting ring the army had set up as a place to spar and practice. His hand was on the hilt of his rapier. "Heh, of course I did. How are you feeling, Hero? Are you back to your quick and...flexible self?" he added a little lecherous grin.

"You've been watching me long enough," Link said, making a guess and looking in Angen's direction. The innkeeper was gone, having disappeared among the tents. "You'd know."

"True, and I'd say you've still a ways to go until your back is completely fine." He came closer to Link, who took a step away. "But," he continued, still grinning, "I'd say you are just fine for...certain activities." Something malicious fell over him then, and his eyes grew cold. "And I know that you are going to argue, trying to weasel your way out of a fair bet and deal...but I will not have it, Hero of Time." His voice didn't change, but his eyes made the tone anything but pleasant.

"And if I say I don't want to do it?" Link asked, pointing his sword at him. He hated going against his own words, but...he couldn't let it happen. "What if I refuse?"

"Since I have no desire to kill you, I'd simply be forced to find someone else to idle away the time with," Iteos replied, shaking his head. "Though I have to say that I am in the mood for something young...and those are in short supply in this camp. I suppose I could wait until your little lover comes back and convince him to bear the brunt of _your_ mistaken bet..."

"You stay the hell away from Sheik!" Link growled. It wasn't the fear of Iteos seducing Sheik that made him react like that. It was the fact that Sheik would probably do it to settle Link's debt. It was just the way he was. And there was no way in hell Link would accept that. "You hear me?"

"Fair enough," Iteos admitted, nodding. "However, that leaves only one last option for me, does it not?"

Link's eyes grew wide. "You wouldn't..."

"Not normally, no, but you leave me with little choice, don't you?" Iteos said, licking his lip. "I do owe the pup a little bite back."

"He's a mage, he'd burn you to cinders before you have chance to get close," Link said.

"A minor setback," Iteos said, chuckling. "But I've dealt with mages, witches and warlocks before. I daresay I have a little...trick, to neutralise the threat their powers create. The bed renter is right, Hero...I am without mercy when I'm out to collect a debt. It's up to you whether you want me to take it out on someone else."

"I...I could kill you right now," Link tried desperately.

"Hm, no, you couldn't," Iteos said, shaking his head. "Not in your current condition. I'd run you through within seconds. And if you _do_ kill me, my men will leave, and you'll be depriving this...army of a powerful fighting force, surely dooming the rebellion to a messy end. Do you want to be responsible for that?"

"I...no..." Link sighed, knowing he was beaten. He couldn't let someone else suffer because of his weakness, and definitely couldn't ruin RIal's rebellion. His mind wandering, he wasn't aware of Iteos' arms circling him from behind until he was caught firmly in the knight's grip.

"I don't understand why you fight this so, Hero," Iteos purred. "Are you worried about your little boyfriend? I'll keep my lips sealed—he'll never know a thing. Worried about yourself? I assure you, I am not a selfish lover. I can make it just as pleasurable for you as it will be for me." He buried his nose in Link's neck and drew a deep breath, inhaling the Hero's slightly sweaty scent. "Just one night."

"One night?" Link said, weakly trying to pull out of the human's grip, but Iteos held him firmly, but gently in place.

"One night," he confirmed.

"When?"

"Tonight, if you feel up for it," Iteos said quietly. "But I will be expecting enthusiasm and participation on your end. The k...my last partner was positively lethargic, and while it was certainly pleasant enough for me, I'm quite sure he did not appreciate my attempts to make him liven up."

Link took a deep breath. As far as he was concerned, this couldn't be over fast enough. If a little backache and...whatever he'd be feeling after a night with Iteos was what it required, then so be it. "All right," he said. "Tonight...but no one can know."

"Of course, I respect your privacy...and I am nothing if not discreet. Your tent is quite empty these days with the shadow league out on their big, important mission, isn't it? I'll come in at midnight...be ready..."

Link waited until Iteos was out of sight before he released the shudder he'd been withholding since the human had embraced him. He already felt dirty, and he didn't want to think about what he'd feel like in the morning.

* * *

Dinnertime was a morose affair, at least for Link, whose mind was preoccupied with thoughts that were certainly not appropriate for the social occasion. How he hated Iteos. How he hated that Sheik had left without him. How he hated this war. How he hated...well, he wasn't all that fond of Lumina in general at the moment. He didn't voice this to Riveth, Rial and the others around the campfire—they didn't deserve having to listen to his whining.

His eyes met with Ard's across the fire, and he nodded at Link, as if he understood what he was thinking about. Of course he does, Link reminded himself. Iteos tried to force himself on _him_ as well. Maybe that's where Angen had gotten the information from. Nah, Link told himself. Your horrible lie took care of _that_.

He finished his ration and put the bowl down in the snow, wiping his mouth on the sleeve of his jacket. Winter and rebellion didn't allow for good manners. He was about to excuse himself to go answer the call of nature when the first signs of something being wrong showed themselves.

A light mist had begun to form as dinner had started. Nothing strange about that, everyone had thought. But Link had subconsciously been keeping an eye on it as he ate—it had reminded him of the room in which he'd fought his shadow for the first time, and he had never trusted fog and mist after that. As he rose from his seat, he saw that the light "mist" had now turned into a thick haze, more akin to smoke than anything else.

Then the arrows came. They fell like rain all over the camp, striking the rebels at their most vulnerable, unprepared and relaxed. Many saw their friends and comrades spill their food and keel over with a shaft sticking out of their bodies, their eyes wide and unblinking. Dead.

A trumpet sounded, and soldiers donning the uniforms and banners of the Royal Army came charging out of the fog—which turned out to be slow-working smoke bombs. They had been waiting for it to build up so they could sneak right up to the rebels without being seen. The rebels closest to the smoke never stood a chance as they were cut down by the first wave.

"Enemy within the perimeter!" Rial shouted over the din of a one-sided battle. "To arms, to arms! Drive them back!"

The attackers weren't a full army—not even a full company by the looks of them. The line established itself and stabilised on the north side of the camp—the only direction from which they could have come. Had they been a battalion, they would have surrounded the camp before attacking, but this was probably just one of the many search parties that had been established to find them.

The rebels fought fiercely, and Link soon found himself on the frontline, reinforcing the hastily formed shield wall. He was surprised at how quickly he found his place among the soldiers. He'd fought for Zelda, but never as part of the army proper. Granted, the defenders were currently a mishmash of men and women of Riveth's, the nobles' and, surprisingly, Iteos', so they weren't a proper company as such, but there was still a sense of...purpose and belonging.

I could get used to this, Link thought as he pushed against another wave of attackers with the other shield bearers. Their combined strength made it difficult for the enemy to get past them, and if they tried to go around, they'd meet row upon row of spears and swords. He ducked as a javelin went flying past him, inches from his face. Some poor bastard behind him took the small spear in the chest, but Link was too busy lashing out with his sword, catching someone's ankle. The blade came back bloody, evidence that he'd scored a hit. His back protested slightly, but Link was able to ignore it in favour of the rush that battle gave him.

"On three, push and strike!" the unofficial leader of the shield wall—an experienced-looking, middle-aged man from Reimos' house, ordered them all. It was met with grunts and shouts of agreement. "Ready! One, two three, push!"

Link grunted and pushed forward with all his strength. The enemy crashed was pushed back on their heels, unbalanced. Quickly, those with weapons lowered their shields slightly and lashed out, scoring hits all along the wall, before retreating behind their shields again. Link had gotten lucky—he'd stabbed forward and hit a spearman right in the gut. He disappeared from view, but Link knew he wouldn't be back in the fight for a long time, if ever. The leader ordered another push, and this time Link didn't hit anyone. The man beside him took an arrow to the face, however, and fell away, screaming. The hole was plugged by the man behind him, but the sight rattled Link quite a bit.

The enemy, surprised at the speed at which the rebels had organised a defence, realised that attacking the wall was useless and started to pull back slightly, letting their unseen comrades in the fog wear away at the wall with their arrows. Link looked back and saw Rial standing a few ranks behind him, apparently struggling to get to the front. There was no stopping that man, Link was sure of it. If there was a fight, one could count on the general to try and be first in line.

"They've been softened against our wall of steel!" Rial shouted. "Counterattack into the smoke! Push, push, push!"

The shield wall broke up as the rebels charged against the attackers, causing them to fully retreat into the protection of the artificial fog. Link felt the exhilaration, barely aware that his feet were carrying him swiftly into and among the enemy lines. Visibility was practically zero; he was only able to see a few feet in front of him. Everything else was reduced to shadows and barely glimpsed shapes in the fog.

His keen hearing picked up on footsteps approaching him quickly, and he ducked out of the way just in time to see an axe chopping at the air where his head had been a second before. The axe's owner came almost tumbling out of fog, and a quick and precise strike from Link's sword sent him crashing to the ground, bleeding from his femoral artery. Another chop to his neck ended his cries and left him still on the forest floor.

Never enjoy it, Link told himself as he walked, looked and listened for the next opponent to challenge him. Never enjoy killing. I don't enjoy killing. I don't. I don't. I don't...

The next enemy had the courtesy of impaling herself on Link's sword without the Hero having to do anything, not noticing the blade she was running at before it was too late. Link put his boot on her chest and pulled his weapon free, giving the woman a pitying glance before moving on. Ignore their faces, ignore their voices...

He suddenly emerged from the smoke, having walked right into the enemy's staging area. Rial and his troops had already reached it and were laying waste to the archers that had been waiting for them. It had come at a heavy cost; at least twenty of Riveth's men lying dead with Goddesses knew how many arrows in them just at the edge of the fog. Link threw himself into the fray, easily defeating archer after archer. He did his best not to kill them, knocking out those he could.

It only took a few minutes to break up the ranks of archers completely, and Rial and Link soon moved on to the enemy officers. The general and Hero gave each other nods of acknowledgment before attacking. The officers fought valiantly, but fell one by one until only the commander and his adjutant were left.

"I'd surrender if I were you...colonel," Rial said after throwing a quick glance at the man's uniform. "You're beaten."

"We'll never surrender to the likes of _you_ , traitor!" the colonel snarled, dropping sword and drawing a dagger which he raked over his own throat in a gory display of loyalty and patriotism. The adjutant looked from the bloody corpse of his commander to Rial.

"How about it, captain?" Rial asked, not even looking at the now dead colonel. "Are you going to join him in this foolishness? You won't be killed or tortured; you have my word on that."

The captain looked at the body again before dropping his sword. "I surrender!" he exclaimed.

Rial nodded. "Good man. Take him prisoner, men, and treat him properly."

The rest of the attackers were either dead or retreating now, so Rial allowed himself to sit on a stump, looking at the carnage around them. "We were lucky," he told Link.

"How so?" the Hero asked.

"This was a small company—barely a hundred and fifty men. There was no way they could have beaten us, even with such a cowardly sneak attack."

"Then why did they attack?"

"No idea. Maybe they underestimated our abilities...or miscounted our numbers. It's also strange that colonel would be in charge of such a small force, but...I don't know. What I do know, however, is that we will have to be on our guard until sunrise. We'll have to move the camp now that they know where we are."

"Yeah... Do you want me to stay and guard—"Link began.

"No, you're still technically injured," Rial said, raising his hands. "You should go to your tent and get as much rest. That Agneta woman is going to give me hell for letting you fight in the first place."

" _Let_ me fight, huh?" Link said, quirking an eyebrow in the way he'd learned from Sheik.

"That's the official story, at least," Rial said, winking at him and rising from his seat. "Anyway, I should organise the defences so—"

"General Vortan, General Vortan!" one of Riveth's men came running out of the fog, shouting for Rial. "It's General Riveth, sir," he told him. "She's been hurt!"

All trace of mirth fell from Rial's face, and he looked seriously at the man. "Take me to her," he said.

"This way, sir!"

Link tagged along, which Rial had no objections towards, it seemed. They were led almost all the way back to the camp, next to the fire they had taken their meal at. "Enemy broke through, sir," the man explained. "General Riveth was hit."

They spotted the ex-general lying on her back with Agneta crouching over her and surrounded three more medics. Her plate armour and chainmail had been taken off, lying discarded on the ground beside her. Riveth's chin was covered in blood, which she kept coughing up with loud, wet rasps. The blood was an unpleasant shade of black, the likes of which Link had never seen before. Surely blood wasn't supposed to look like that?

"What happened?" Rial demanded. He tried to get closer to his aunt, but one of the other medics pushed him back.

"She needs space, sir," he told Rial, who looked on helplessly as Agneta tended to Riveth.

"Bastard hit her in the chest with a mace," Agneta said without looking at him.

"Who'd...have...thought...they...used...those...anymore..." Riveth breathed out, coughing again.

"Don't speak, Drena," Agneta said gently. "Concentrate on breathing. The plate took the brunt of the blow, but your chest has still taken some damage," she noted.

"Blow...hah!" Riveth exclaimed.

"Be quiet, I said!"

Rial watched in silence, his frame tense. Link placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, but it did little to calm down the general.

"No thoughts about it," Agneta announced after a few minutes of listening to Riveth's breathing. "I need to operate. You three, get her to the sick tent!" She pointed at Link, Rial and the man who had come to get Rial, who immediately sprang to action and gently lifted Riveth between them. Even with three of them carrying her, Link was surprised at how light and frail the ex-general felt.

They carried her inside the sick tent and placed her on the surgery table, after which they were chased outside by Agneta and her medics. Angen was among them. He and Rial shared a look, and Angen silently told Rial that he was going to do everything he could to save her.

Sighing, Rial paced back and forth in front of the tent for a few minutes. "Typical," he muttered. "Typical..."

Recognising someone who desperately needed a distraction, Link spoke, "You have those defences to organise," he reminded him.

"Yeah, but—"

"No buts," Link continued, using the tone of voice that Zelda had used when she wanted absolutely no arguing or nonsense. "Your aunt is in the best of hands, and you've already done everything you can do to help. Pacing here and talking to yourself isn't productive at all. You need something to occupy yourself with, and you still have a job to do as a general. Go deal with the defences."

"And you?" Rial asked, gritting his teeth in the face of the truth the Hero spoke.

"I'll stay here," Link said. "I'll come running to you if there's a change."

"I...all right," Rial agreed, stalking off and hounding his men into action.

Link sighed, feeling the combat high wearing off, leaving his legs weak and feeling like jelly. He sank into a chair outside the tent and stuck his sword in the icy ground, resting his forehead against the pommel. Time for a little rest, he decided, the ache in his back returning with a vengeance. Resisting a whimper, he turned his attention to the sounds coming from within the sick tent. He heard Agneta's voice cursing loudly very often, which didn't seem like a good sign at all.

"Don't you dare die, Riveth," he muttered to himself, and waited.

He heard a sigh and opened his eyes. He spotted Ard standing on the other side of the rough street, looking anxiously at the opening. Link frowned. When Ard was angry, annoyed or even just bored, he looked older than he truly was, but now...now he reminded Link of the scared child he'd been when his twin had died. It made his heart ache. Standing up and leaving his sword where it was embedded in the ground, he crossed the street and stood next to the young warlock. "She'll be fine," he told Ard quietly.

"She...she can't die," Ard said. "She can't."

"Agneta won't let her."

"I'll...be alone..."

Link smiled sadly at him. "No, you won't be alone. The rest of the camp will still be here...Rial will be here."

"And...you?" Ard asked, his voice so quiet it could barely be heard.

Link blinked in surprise. He didn't even know Ard liked him all that much. Sure, he'd been invited to bear witness to his brother's funeral pyre, but he'd been under the impression that he was only there as a necessary witness. Nodding slowly, he said, "Yeah, I'll be here."

"And Sheik?"

"Sure, him too." Link sighed. "There's no point in dwelling on this, Ard. Riveth is going to be just fine, up on her feet and laying waste to the enemy in no time." He patted the boy's shoulder, grinning at him. "You think she's gonna let something like _that_ stop her?"

"Guess not," Ard agreed, nodding.

And with that Ard's allotted quota of words for that day had run out, and the conversation died. Link retrieved his sword and began cleaning it, wrinkling his nose in disgust at the coagulated blood coating it. After finishing, he seated himself beside Ard and began a staring contest with the flap of the sick tent. Every now and then it was pushed aside, but it was usually only to let other patients or medics in or out. Link wasn't sure how long it took, but he estimated it took at least two hours before someone involved in Riveth's operation emerged into the night and approached them.

"Please inform General Vortan that we have stabilised Riveth," he told them curtly. "She is still unconscious, and we don't know when she will wake up."

"But she won't die?" Link asked, giving Ard a meaningful look.

"Not from the wound, certainly," the medic said, looking between them. "Oh, and tell the general that there is something Agneta wishes to...discuss with him in private. Very important."

"I'll go right now," Link said, pausing and pointing at Ard, "Can he go see her?"

"Certainly," the medic said, smiling at the warlock, who had pulled his mask back on. "Just don't expect her to talk back."

"I never said anything about talking," Link said as he walked away, chuckling. The cleanup from the attack was nearly done. The dead—both rebels and enemy soldiers—were gathered and covered in cloth. It was too cold, and the ground was too hard to bother with proper burial, especially since they had to break camp at dawn. Hopefully, the war would be over and someone could return and give them the proper respect before the bodies were preyed upon by the hungry animals of the forest.

The direction from which the enemy had attacked was definitely being reinforced, and Link followed the steady stream of soldiers massing there for night watch duty. His instincts had been right, and he found Rial there, directing and setting up a schedule. He waved the general over, and he excused himself.

"Well?" he asked expectantly and nervously, definitely fearful of the news being bad. "You have an update?"

"Yes," Link said, smiling at him. "She's stable and will survive. She's still unconscious and they're not entirely sure when she'll come out of it, but at least she's safe."

Rial's entire being sagged with relief, and he ran a hand through his short hair. "That's...good to hear," he said, voice filled with barely suppressed happiness. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me, thank Agneta," Link said, and leaned closer. "Speaking of her, she wants to talk to you in private."

"About what?"

"I dunno, I didn't ask. I figured it was _private_ ," he said again. "And it sounded pretty urgent, so I'd get there right now if I were you."

"All right, I'll go right now." Rial briefly instructed one of the higher-ranking officers to take over the defence and turned back to Link. "Thanks for your help, Hero...you're a valuable asset. Now go get some rest. You—and your back—have earned it. I'll send someone to wake you at dawn, if you wish."

"Thank you, I appreciate that," Link said, nodding and heading for the tent he shared with Sheik and the others. It was lonely in there these days, and he didn't sleep well. The lack of sleep made it difficult to wake up in the morning, and he felt like he was getting sloppy in everything else. All because he didn't have Sheik to snuggle up against—it was almost ridiculous how much of an effect Sheik's presence—or lack thereof—could affect him.

He had come to terms that it would be another night of struggling with sleeping when he noticed someone standing outside the tent. He growled to himself when he recognised the form of Sir Iteos. He'd forgotten about that.

"Ah, there you are," Iteos said quietly as he approached. "I was beginning to worry you'd forgotten."

"I had," Link replied and strode past him into the tent. Iteos followed, but made no attempts at anything else, looking around the interior. Link lit an oil lamp and began removing his equipment. Undoing and taking off the bandoleer to which his sword and shield were attached was a relief for his back, and he groaned appreciatively.

"Now that's a sound I like to hear," Iteos said, chuckling.

Scowling, Link continued, removing his outer clothing and the chainmail underneath, leaving him in his usual tunic and tights.

"Tights? Interesting choice," Iteos commented.

"Not asking for your opinion," Link said sourly, crossing his arms. "Where were you during the fight? Didn't see you anywhere."

"I was with my men," Iteos said, studying his fingernails. "We barely had time to react before the fight was over. I'll give the ragtag rebels this—they adapt well to surprises."

"How convenient," Link said, glaring at him. "What now?"

"That's entirely up to you. I told you, I expect enthusiasm and participation, and since I'm quite tired...well, why don't _you_ take the lead?"

That was the worst thing he could have asked of Link at that moment. It was bad enough that he had to do... _that_ with Iteos, but expecting him to get it started...it was like a double-betrayal of Sheik.

Oh, Sheik... He felt guilty about planning to keep this from his lover, but...he couldn't be allowed to find out. Not about this.

"Start by undressing yourself...and then _me_ ," Iteos said non-helpfully, grinning lecherously as he tied the tent flap closed, ensuring that no one could walk in on them. "The sooner you get started, the better, Hero..."

Muttering angry curses under his breath, Link undid the ties of his tunic and pulled it off, revealing his toned upper body, which was covered in scars, old and new. Iteos made another appreciative sound, eyes roaming over him.

"Mmm, can't believe you've been hiding that under all those clothes...they really do add bulk, don't they?" he said.

Link ignored him and pulled off his boots, blushing deeply as he did the same with his tights. In his undergarments, he stood before Iteos. "Is that enough?" he asked, to which Iteos began to laugh.

"What, you think we are simply going to cuddle? All of it, Hero. And do it slowly..."

Face burning with shame, Link did as he was told, sliding off the loose-fitting garment. He shivered slightly as the still-cold air in the tent nipped at his skin—though he was willing to attribute half of that shiver to the lecherous gaze of the knight.

"Beautiful, absolutely ravishing," Iteos said, chuckling at the attempt Link made at maintaining his dignity by cover his crotch with his hands. "Oh, come now, Hero, it's not like I haven't seen anything like it before."

"I hate you," Link muttered.

"Good, that'll make things more exciting," Iteos said, beckoning Link over. "Now, undress me...and let us begin."

Face burning even hotter, Link went to work, praying to the Goddesses that it would all be over quick...

...but it wasn't.

* * *

Rial looked at the sleeping Riveth with worry. Her face was pale, and while the blood on her face had been cleaned off, he couldn't help but see flashes of it. He kept replaying the scene over and over in his head—the sight of her lying prone on the ground, blood running out of her mouth like a river... She was covered in a blanket, but she still shivered slightly. It was to be expected, Agneta had told him. Her body had just gone through a terrible shock with the injury and the operation. Rial also had suspicion that it had something to do with what the medic wanted to talk about with him in private.

Ard was sitting on a chair next to Riveth, holding her hand while saying nothing, simply staring at her in a forlorn way. It was unfair, Rial thought. First he lost his brother, and now his adopted mother was severely wounded. Sometimes he wanted to do nothing more than to grab the bastard Rehm, who was responsible for all this, and smash his face repeatedly into the floor until nothing remained but a flat, gory pancake where his face should have been. His enjoyable mental image was ruined when Agneta cleared her throat from behind him.

"General," she said, tiredly waving for him to enter the small, screened area that served as the head doctor's office. It was quite bare—a small table, two chairs and a bookshelf was all it contained. Rial was beckoned to seat himself, which he did. Agneta sat down in the chair opposite him. She looked exhausted—the operation had taken a long time, and it was evidently not a hundred percent success judging by the look of sadness on her face.

"Call me Rial, please," he told her after she began to address him by rank again. "I'm here as a relative, after all." It was a bad joke, and it did nothing to hide the nervousness he was most likely radiating.

"All right, Rial," Agneta said, clearing her throat. "I'm not one to beat around the bush, I believe in telling the truth in as straight a way as possible. I've been informed in the past that it's a terrible strain on people's feelings, but..."

"I can handle it, whatever it is," Rial reassured her, not at all assured himself.

"Right, so here goes: Your aunt is dying."

The words hit him like a sledgehammer in the chest, and it took him a few seconds to completely process what she had said. "E-excuse me?" He asked. "I was told you'd—you'd stabilised her completely."

"Oh, the wound is completely stabilised and she's not in any danger of dying from blood loss," Agneta said, shaking her head. "Judging by your reaction, I guess she hasn't told you."

"Told me what?" Rial asked, feeling agitated. Had his aunt been hiding something from him?

"I'm sure Riveth would kill me for doing this, but since she's obviously in no condition to tell you herself, I will take the responsibility," Agneta continued, taking a breath when her voice threatened to crack. Rial realised that this wasn't easy on the doctor either, and gave her an encouraging nod. "Some years ago, she approached me with a persistent cough. She'd caught a cold the week before, but it had cleared up nicely...except for that cough. I figured that it was just some remnant of the cold and gave her some regular medicine..."

"But it wasn't a normal cough?" Rial asked.

Agneta shook her head. "No, it wasn't. At first I suspected pneumonia, but as the cough grew wetter and more violent, and none of the pneumonia medicines worked, I grew suspicious. I consulted dozens of medical journals and textbooks, and I eventually figured out what was wrong."

Rial held his breath.

"Rust lung."

Another sledgehammer hit him.

Rust lung was a fatal lung disease that had run rampant throughout Lumina five years prior. No one knew its cause, only that it had initially surfaced in and around Ironhill. Doctors and physicists believed it had something to do with the heavy industrialisation of the area and that there was something in the air that perpetuated it. However, when the disease began to spread, the theory was quickly dropped.

It was a nasty disease. When caught, patients began to suffer wracking coughs that only increased in intensity as the condition progressed. The first stage, where only the cough was a visible symptom, could last for months. Then the patient's lungs began to deteriorate. It could happen fast, or it could happen slow—it varied from patient to patient. It became harder and harder to breathe, and the patient would begin to cough up blood. Eventually, the lungs would fall apart completely, shrivelling up and turning a rusty red, from which the disease got its name. It was invariably fatal—doctors discovered a series of drugs that would keep it at bay for a long time, but a cure was never developed.

After about a year of ravaging the Luminan countryside (it never spread to the capital), the disease disappeared. Those who had contracted it died, but no one else caught it. It was a medical mystery, and attempts were made to find it again, but they never amounted to anything.

"H-how?" Rial asked. "You were in exile, how did you—"

"Come into contact with it?" Agneta asked. "Well, a caravan from Ironhill arrived one morning, carrying merchants who were selling weapons. Riveth began bartering, and just as they were finishing the deal, one of the merchants' children stumbled out of a wagon and coughed in Riveth's face. We didn't know anything about rust lung at the time, but I realised what was happening two weeks later. I've been force-feeding her the drugs for years now, and I thought I would be able to keep it at bay for quite a while longer, but...I was wrong." She sighed. "She's entered the second stage now. Her lungs will begin to shrivel up, it will get harder for her to breathe, the blood cough will continue..."

"And then—"

"Her entire system will collapse on itself when her lungs finally give out. I don't know how long it will take, all I know is that there's nothing I can do and—"she paused as her voice finally broke and a solitary tear slid down her cheek. She rubbed angrily at her eyes. "Look at me, a fully grown woman slash warrior slash doctor and I can't even handle telling someone that their relative is going to die..."

"It's all right," Rial said, his hand shaking as he patted her shoulder. "She's your friend. You're a doctor, but you can't remain objective—not in this situation."

"Thank you," she said, smiling sadly at him. "You're handling it a lot better than me, though, that's for certain."

"I have a feeling that if I let up now, I'll never be able to get back up again," Rial said quietly. He wanted nothing more than to lie down and just forget about absolutely everything, but knew he couldn't. He couldn't fall apart now—he had an army to lead. There would be time to grieve and...and arrange funerals and those things later... His breath hitched in his throat, and he looked away. "How...how long do you think she has?" he asked.

"That's the thing about rust lung—it's impossible to give an accurate prognosis. She's held it back for so long, and now that her body is so weakened from the wound and surgery...I fear it's not very long. A few months at the most."

"I see..."

"Rial...when the third stage begins...she told me she wasn't planning on sticking around to become a pale-faced ghost in a bed."

Nodding. "Sounds about right," he muttered. He couldn't imagine his aunt dying in her sleep in a comfortable bed. If she had anything to say about it, she'd go down in a blaze of glory. It was the way she wanted it. It was the way Rial wanted it too, now that he thought about it. It was the way, he was sure, the rest of her men wanted to see her go as well.

He only hoped that she'd get the chance before it was too late.

"Does Ard know?" he asked.

"No," Agneta replied, shaking her head. "Riveth didn't want either of the twins to worry about her. I imagine she will tell him as soon as she wakes up. Or maybe you would like to tell him—"

"I don't know," he interrupted her. "I doubt it. It is not my place."

"I suppose you're right," she agreed. "Right, now, as a doctor, I suggest we both get some rest. She's not liable to wake up anytime soon," she said, trying to change the subject.

"Yeah..." Rial said, standing up. "We're moving camp at dawn—it's too dangerous to stay here now that Rehm's men know where we are. Will it be all right? To move her, I mean?"

"As long as the jostling doesn't reopen her wounds, I believe so," Agneta said with a nod. "I'd advise you to get some strong men to carry the bed."

"I doubt it'll be hard to find volunteers," Rial said as he left the office and stood watching his unconscious aunt for a few minutes. "Will you let me know if there is a change in her condition?" he asked.

"Of course, general," Agneta said. She was back in her physician mode. "Now, go get some rest. Doctor's orders."

"Yes, ma'am," he said with a mock salute.

"And take him with you," she added, pointing at Ard. "It's way past his bedtime."

"Right, right."

Ard didn't resist as Rial gently grabbed his arm and pulled him with him. Neither of them said anything as they walked to the command tent. None of the soldiers or officers bothered them on their way—an odd hush had fallen over the camp when Riveth's injury had been announced. It was like they waited for a sign that she was going to die or not. Rial wasn't about to give it to them. He had no idea whether to tell Ard either. Surely that was a matter between Riveth and him? But if Riveth never woke up, never had a chance to...

He shook his head. No, that was far too negative. Most victims with rust lung had been awake and lucid long into the second stage. It was only at the third stage, when the brain didn't get enough oxygen from the lungs that their minds went.

Even so...he doubted that Ard would handle the news tonight. He was already visibly upset from the wound Riveth had received. Telling her that she was definitely dying on top of it...nope, too much.

After entering the command tent, as they headed for their respective cots, Ard rounded on him and stared him in the eyes. "She won't die," he told Rial firmly. "She's not going to let this stop her."

The words were said with such conviction that Rial couldn't help but smile and pat the boy on the head, wishing he could feel as optimistic. "You're right," he said, forcing a grin to his face. "She's too tough."

"Too tough," Ard repeated.

"She'll shrug it off."

"Shrug it off."

"It'll take some time, though," Rial added after a few seconds of silence.

"Yeah," Ard agreed, looking at his feet with interest. Then he promptly disappeared behind where his cot was. "Good night," he added a minute later.

"Good night," Rial replied, beginning to strip off his armour. He was sure his second in command could handle things until dawn. He felt so tired...and sad...and upset. He'd be surprised if he'd get any sleep at all, but orders were orders, especially a doctor's.

Contrary to his belief, sleep claimed him quickly after his head hit his pillow. But the sleep was filled with nightmares, and judging by the uneasy whimpers and mutterings coming from the warlock's cot, so was Ard's.

* * *

Jeryd left the master's chambers, walking gingerly along the hallways. Shame filled him, and he wanted nothing more than to disappear in a black hole and never return, but...it was a wasted hope.

"You all right?" Lezal asked, suddenly walking beside him. The older man must have been waiting for Jeryd to come back.

"What do you think?" Jeryd snarled quietly at him.

"What, you thought he'd just welcome you back with open arms?" Lezal said, shaking his head. "Naïve."

"I didn't expect that, no," Jeryd said. "But...didn't expect this either..."

"Could be worse."

"I fail to see how it could be."

"Any other assassin would have been dead the second he or she set foot in Ironhill again. The only reason you...er, I hesitate to call it 'get off', but...well, you're still alive because you were his favourite. It's the only reason you still have a chance to redeem yourself."

"You know what he asked of me?"

Lezal looked uncomfortable. "I do," he said slowly. "He told me soon after you abandoned your post in Lumina City, what he'd expect if you ever tried to return."

"Then you also know that there is no way in hell that I can do it."

"Jeryd, please—"

"No!" Jeryd exclaimed, stopping and shoving Lezal into the wall, ignoring the wave of pain that washed over him. "I _won't_ do it! And if I see _you_ or anyone else trying to do it instead, I'll cut your throats so damn quick you won't even realise what's happening before the walls are painted with jugular spray!"

Lezal remained quiet, just staring into Jeryd's eyes. It made Jeryd uncomfortable, and he pushed himself away from the other man, glaring at him.

"No deal," he said. "Where are they?"

"One of the private guest rooms," Lezal said, patting down his clothes, brushing imaginary dust off of them. "I sent the boy to entertain them."

"Take me to the room."

"Follow."

An uncomfortable silence covered them as they walked. Jeryd hated this place, hated the bare walls, hated the cold atmosphere...he hated the random assassins they passed in the corridors. They gave him surprised glances, obviously recognising him—probably wondering why he wasn't dead. He glared at them. The only one he wouldn't glare at was Lorasi—or Lor, as he preferred to be called. Speaking of which...

"What happened to him?" he asked Lezal.

"Who?"

"Lorasi— _the boy_ ," Jeryd repeated, annoyed at Lezal's feigned ignorance.

"Ah, him...well, a decision was made and he was declared unfit to be an assassin," Lezal said. "He failed his first and second exams, and that was all the patience we could afford him."

"Then why isn't he dead?" Jeryd asked, gritting his teeth at the off-hand manner Lezal was speaking in. Lor and Lezal had never gotten along, especially not when Jeryd had still been stationed in Ironhill. There was just something fundamentally different about them that forced any attempts at friendship or quiet respect up against the wall and stabbed it a few dozen times. But it had never come to physical blows before, and yet Lezal had slapped Lor quite hard inside the brothel, and the boy hadn't even said anything about it, had just taken it quietly. "Last time I checked, the guild does away with failed novices."

"That was the plan for him initially," Lezal said, his tone turning neutral. "An assassin who cannot kill is useless to us...but it was discovered that he has certain...talents, especially in the art of seduction. So a special concession was made for him, and he was allowed to live in exchange for working in the brothel until we either grow tired of him or find a better use for him."

Jeryd gritted his teeth again. What an utterly heartless way to treat a person, and while Lezal was by no means a saint, he had never expected such words to come from _him_.

"And...the tattoo?" he asked.

Lezal looked at his feet, clearly uncomfortable. "To signify his...status," he eventually replied. "So there can be no doubt what he is."

"A good-for-nothing whore, huh?" Jeryd asked.

"I wouldn't say that, he makes more money than any other in the broth—"

"Shut up!"

He hadn't meant to shout—his voice was embarrassingly loud in the hallway—but he couldn't stand hearing a friend being talked about in such a way. It filled him with a white-hot rage, which replaced the shame he'd been feeling before. He made a decision then. Lorasi wouldn't suffer much longer in this place. Lezal must have known what he was thinking, because he slowly shook his head.

"You're already pushing it just by coming back, Jer," he said quietly. "Try and do something about this...and you'll be hunted till the end of your days."

"Small price to pay for ending needless cruelty," Jeryd said, shrugging and continuing down the hallway. "I know the rest of the way. Don't bother following. And _definitely_ don't call me Jer!"

"Protocol dictates—"

"Fuck your protocol!"

He followed the mental map he'd made of the place years ago and eventually found the series of isolated rooms that honourable guests of the guild were given. He only heard voices from one of them. He took a deep breath and forced himself to calm down before entering.

Sheik, Elenwe and Kafei were sitting cross-legged on cushions around a low table, on which a bottle of some unidentified alcohol was sitting. Four small glasses were placed evenly around on the table, but none of them were filled. Lor was sitting two paces away from the table, the servant's position. He was apparently in the middle of a story judging by the way all the attention was focused on him, but he stopped talking upon Jeryd's entrance, making everyone focus on him.

"There you are," Sheik said, nodding to him. "Long meeting with the master?"

"Er, yes," Jeryd said, slapping himself mentally for hesitating and making that stupid sound. "There were some details about my debt that had to be settled. It's all fine now, though." He sat down at the table in the unoccupied seat, noticing that Lor was giving him a knowing, sad look. He shook his head at him, trying to indicate that he was all right. "Have I missed something?"

"Just embarrassing stories about your time here before you left," Elenwe said, grinning stupidly. "I didn't know you were such a wolf."

"Wolf?" Jeryd asked, looking to Lor for an explanation.

"I, er, told them about the times you and...and Drake and the others did—"

"Oh, right," Jeryd said, his cheeks burning. That had been an interesting time of his life. Trying to change the subject, he looked Lor's position again. "What are you doing over there?" he asked. "Come sit at the table."

"Oh, I can't, I'm here to—"

"Entertain us? Balls to that! You're my friend, not a servant."

"But—"

"He's right," Sheik agreed. "Please, join us." He looked at Jeryd, shrugging apologetically. "We tried to tell him to sit with us before, but he refused."

"He'd better not this time," Jeryd said, staring at Lor until he finally relented and seated himself across from Jeryd, scratching his neck in uncomfortable embarrassment. The tattoo on his cheek made Jeryd angry. Even if he was condemned to a life as a...a brothel worker, why did they feel the need to mark him? That was just unnecessarily cruel...

But then a thought struck him. Lezal had never been hesitant when talking about whores and brothels before, but he had seemed downright uncomfortable when talking about Lor's supposed "talents". Which meant that there had to be something else...

"Is something wrong?" Lor finally asked, tired of being stared at.

"Ah, no, nothing," Jeryd said, clearing his throat. "Just, ah, amazed at how big you've gotten."

"It's been four years," Lor said drily. "I was eleven when you left. Normal kids do tend to grow a bit in such a time period. What, surprised that I'm actually normal?"

Ah, there was the good old Lorasi he knew.

"Of course, I didn't mean to imply—"

"I know, Jer," Lor said, giving him a small smile. "I was pulling your leg."

"Like you always did." Jeryd smiled back, not objecting to the nickname being used. Lor was probably the only person left in the world who was allowed to call him that. Well, him and... He glanced at Sheik, who was quietly talking to Elenwe about something or other. Well, maybe him too, if he ever wanted to.

"So," Kafei said suddenly, jerking him out of his thoughts, "I was given to understand that this guild was founded on Sheikah values and such..."

"Yes?" Jeryd said.

"I have yet to actually see any of it," Kafei continued, glancing around. "No symbols, no decorations...your outfits don't look anything like ours..."

"Ah, well, it is mostly our training regimen that was based on yours, Master Sheikah," Lor said before Jeryd had a chance to speak. "A founding member visited Hyrule long ago, witnessed your people's training and fighting styles and brought a lot of it back here."

"I see...and don't call me Master or Sheikah," Kafei said, not unkindly. "My name is Kafei Dotour—but you may use my first name if you'd like."

"Thank you Ma—Kafei," Lor said, giving Kafei a dazzling smile that would have melted anyone's heart in a second. It certainly melted Jeryd's.

"Speaking of that," Sheik suddenly said, fixing Kafei with a penetrating stare. "You never told me how you came to be a part of the Dotour family to begin with."

"Me neither, actually," Elenwe said, joining in.

Jeryd didn't know what to say. The only Dotour family he could think of was the one from Termina, whose head had held the mantle of mayor just before Clockwork City had been wiped out by the cataclysm. The same one that had taken Kafei's fiancée from him.

"Perhaps a story better left for another time," Kafei said, clearly uncomfortable.

"I'd like to hear it now, actually," Sheik pressed on. It seemed a bit pushy, but Jeryd couldn't see any ill will in the youngest Sheikah's eyes. He was just honestly curious—and he was simply too stubborn to let it lie. "We apparently have some time to wait until the tunnel is ready, anyway..."

"Eugh, all right," Kafei said, sighing. "There really isn't much to say. After I left Hyrule, I didn't know where to go. I couldn't stop thinking about you or Impa...actually, I thought about _you_ the most—I was worried you didn't make it..."

"Right," Sheik said, clearly trying not to think about his brush with death that night.

"Well, I eventually took what little money I had left and hopped on a trading caravan that was bound for one of the southern empires. But I never got any further than the Terminan border. When I couldn't pay the caravan anymore, they threw me off and I was left to fend for myself in a foreign land."

"What did you do then?" Lor asked, enraptured. Jeryd smiled at the enthusiasm. It was good to see a little childishness in the boy who seemed so grown-up.

"I figured I would make my way to the capital, thinking that there was surely someone who would be interested in hiring some help. Perhaps work in a warehouse or something. But that was still a long ways off. Turns out that people in Termina are even more mistrustful of strangers with red eyes than they are in Hyrule. None of the farms along the way would give me the time of day. The only kind people I met along the way were a pair of red-haired sisters who allowed me to sleep in their barn for a night and gave me some food the next day before I returned to the road."

"Were they pretty?" Elenwe asked.

"I'd say so," Kafei nodded. "In a farm-ish sort of way. Cremia and Romani were their names. Cremia was the oldest, probably a few years my senior, while Romani was probably around your age, Sheik. Anyway, the food they gave me only lasted a couple of days, and soon I was back to begging random passers-by on the road for food."

"You could have stolen some, surely," Sheik said.

"I could, but I was determined to not use my training or abilities for anything illegal. I was so certain I could get out of the life that lay ahead of me. I just wanted to be normal, not indebted or forced to fight for anyone. I eventually arrived in Clockwork City, but things didn't improve. No one would hire a young boy filthy from travelling and looking like he was about to collapse from malnourishment. I was forced to live on the streets as a beggar. I had to do...terrible things just to get by, sometimes."

"Goddesses," Elenwe muttered, looking at him sadly. Clearly she had never been treated to Kafei's life story either, and Jeryd began to wonder if he and Lor should have gone outside while he spoke, as this was an intimate story to Kafei.

"I was about to give up and try to go back to Hyrule," Kafei continued. "Even though I highly doubted I'd make it back alive. I was prepared to beg Impa to take me back. I would gladly have taken any punishment she'd see fit to give me."

"But something happened?" Sheik asked.

"Yes. It was pure coincidence that I happened to be on that particular street at that particular time. It was during some festival or other—apparently, it was held every year to celebrate the moon and make it feel honoured so it wouldn't get angry and crash into the earth. Ridiculous, but... Anyway, I was making my way through the crowds, begging for scraps, coin, anything that would keep me alive another day, when I noticed the mayor and his wife. They were as popular as anyone could be, and they loved mingling with the other citizens. Someone had clearly seen their chance to cause mayhem, however, and had hired and assassin that was sneaking up on them with a knife, clearly intent on ending their lives. My instincts kicked in, and I intervened. I was weak from living on the streets, but I was still a better fighter than the hired killer. We scuffled, and at some point or another he had his hands around my throat. I did what I was taught, and turned the enemy's weapon back on him. I stabbed him in the gut."

Sheik was nodding, agreeing with the tactic.

"How did the people react?" Lor asked.

"There was panic and chaos, and the watchmen thought that _I_ was the one who had tried to kill the Dotours, hauling me off and throwing me into a cell. But the mayor realised what had happened and visited me. He thanked me for saving the lives of his and his wife, and asked me who I was and where I'd come from. I told him my story, thinking I might as well get it off my chest. He took pity on me and ordered me to be released. I was so thankful, and then he gave me an offer. He and his wife would take me in, in exchange that I would protect them from whoever had tried to have them killed. I agreed, but told him that it would be difficult to explain a Sheikah in their household, to which he replied that he had an idea. We worked out that I was to take on the cover of a son who had been sent away to school years ago and had finally returned home. I dyed my hair the same colour as theirs and spent some time learning the Dotour family history."

Sheik looked thoughtful, and Jeryd wondered what he was thinking about.

"I eventually figured out who was responsible for the attempted assassination of the mayor, and tracked them down and killed them all," Kafei said, his expression turning to stone. "For a time afterwards, I was worried. Not only had I forsaken my own vow that I would never become someone's tool again, but...I was afraid that now that the threat against the Dotours was gone, I would be cast aside and once again end up on the streets."

"But?" Lor asked.

"The mayor told me that he was sorry I'd been forced to commit such an act despite my vow. He promised he would never make me do something like that again and surprised me greatly—he asked me to become a permanent member of their house. He and his wife...they were unable to have children, and he said that I had become like a son to him in the time I spent there."

"So you became their son for real?" Jeryd said, to which Kafei nodded.

"I was so happy...I could finally leave all my doubts and fears behind. I could finally start living for myself. I wrote to Impa and told her about had happened, but she never replied, and she never told you, I suppose."

"Only that you were in Termina," Sheik said. "I asked to go after you, but she refused. During the war I came upon a history book that Doctor Kaura had brought from home. It mentioned you. I was surprised."

"I can imagine," Kafei said. "Well, I spent the next few years just...being myself, enjoying life. And then I met Anju..."

Elenwe hissed quietly, so quietly that Jeryd barely noticed it.

"We grew close...and I finally proposed. She said yes. I don't think I've ever been happier than the day she did. And then...well, you know the rest of the story. The comet, or meteor, or whatever fell, destroyed the city and...I never saw Anju or my p—the Dotours again." Kafei took a deep breath and released it. Telling the story had been difficult.

"I'm sorry," Sheik said. It was probably the first time Jeryd had seen him apologise to his cousin. It was...strange, and oddly endearing. "I didn't mean to pry—"

"No, no, it was...nice to tell someone about it," Kafei said, giving Elenwe an apologetic look. "And I'm sorry for not telling it to you sooner, but..."

"Wasn't my place," she said.

"But it was," Kafei said. He didn't elaborate on that, but a meaningful look passed between him and the Gerudo.

Jeryd surreptitiously reached for the bottle of alcohol and poured himself a small amount. His nerves had begun to act up when Kafei had finished his story, and he just needed a little bit to—

He was stopped by a two-pronged assault from both Sheik and Lor. Sheik had reached for his wrist and gripped tightly while Lor simply gave him a disapproving look. Relinquishing his grip on the bottle and feeling Sheik doing the same with his wrist, he let his shoulders fall and began to feel utterly miserable. He wasn't even allowed that small comfort!

There was a knock on the door, and Lezal and a pair of assassins stepped inside. They were carrying the gear Sheik and the others had left behind at the inn.

"The master thought you'd need these tomorrow night," Lezal explained as they packs were put on one of the beds. "I was told to inform you that the work on the tunnel is progressing well and should be ready by morning." He gave Lor a disapproving glance, and the boy quickly removed himself from the seat at the table, returning to the servant's position.

"Thank you," Sheik said, nodding. "It is much appreciated." There was no truth in the words. He clearly didn't like Lezal or the way he treated Lor.

"Also, he has appointed a guide to take you through tunnel system and get you inside the halls," Lezal added.

"Who?" Jeryd asked suspiciously.

"Me," Lezal said and left the room without another word, the assassins hot on his heels. The door closed, and the group was left on their own again. Lor had to be coaxed back to the table once more, which annoyed Jeryd. He couldn't remember the boy being so submissive before he left.

They spent the rest of the night talking about everything and nothing. No subject was too dull to be discussed, not even how to stitch holes in socks. After everything they'd been through on their way to the guild, Jeryd knew they were all trying to stave off the awkwardness that would result from the silence stretching on for too long.

Lor, however, seemed to be enjoying himself immensely. Jeryd wasn't surprised. He probably wasn't used to being treated like a normal person on occasions like these. How he hated the guild for doing that to him...

The time for sleep came eventually at dawn. They decided to sleep through most of the day so they would be awake and alert for the night's mission. Lor gathered up the bottle and cups and excused himself, but Jeryd followed him outside, stopping him.

"Lor."

The boy looked at him, noticing they were alone. "Yes?"

"Can...can we talk? Alone, I mean, and not here?"

"I need to go to bed, or else the matron will have my head," Lor said apologetically. "But I have a few hours off today at noon, if you feel up for it."

"Of course," Jeryd said with a smile.

"Great. Meet me at the clock tower, then." Jeryd could've sworn that there was a slight skip to the boy's steps as he walked away.

Sliding under the covers of his bed, intending to get a few hours of sleep before meeting with Lor again, he felt a comfort at having seen a friendly face—one he hadn't expected to see ever again. Someone snored, but he didn't feel bothered by the sound at all. Eyes closing, he yawned and let himself fall asleep, the unpleasantness that had occurred within the master's chambers forgotten for now.

* * *

**Soul Remnants  
Chapter 52**

* * *

Ironhill during the day was a stark contrast to itself at night. Where there had been wide and empty streets completely devoid of life during the dark, there were masses of people crowding so closely together that it was nigh impossible to move through them. Where there had been a few bored guards manning the stations, there were now dozens, all of them keeping close eyes on the people moving around them, occasionally catching pickpockets and cutpurses, swindlers and conmen, all trying to prey on the decent, hardworking folk of the city.

Jeryd chuckled at his own thoughts. He knew for a fact that very few of the people who were not employed in the manufacturing district were anything close to decent or hardworking. The residential district was, in essence, a miniature food chain, all of its members preying on those lower than themselves, and those unfortunates who found themselves on the bottom rung usually found a way to prey on those at the very top. The guild found itself on the bottom _and_ the top, balancing precariously on the edge of wealthy and destitute, powerful and powerless. How the master had managed to control it all these years without succumbing to the pressure would always be a mystery to the guild members. One tipoff and it would all come crumbling down.

And that tipoff would most likely come from Jeryd. As he crossed the square in front of the clock tower, he reflected on this. He'd be doing Lumina a favour, really. The guild was as hated by the common folk as it was loved by the nobles, whose day-to-day boredom could only be alleviated by the good old tradition of hiring some assassins and attempting to topple the other families. It was probably most amusing to the elite, but it usually brought about turmoil for those who served them...and everyone else. Jeryd held the power to put an end to it all, leaving the nobles with no other option but to solve their disputes and find avenues of entertainment on their own.

But not now, he reminded himself. For now there was still some use the guild could be put to. The sabotage of the airships had to be prioritised, but after that... Jeryd had come to a decision in the early morning hours, having woken up a little while before the others. He was going to kill the master, and destroy the guild in Ironhill. Then he would do the same to the others. One by one, the guild halls would fall and their masters with them. The only question was how. Even in his old age, the master in Ironhill was a formidable opponent. The way he had disarmed and...demeaned Jeryd in his study the night before was tangible proof of that. His bottom still stung if he moved too fast. He'd have to find a way that would let him catch the master off-guard—like a true assassin would. Perhaps consulting Sheik and the others would yield a way to—

His train of thought was broken by the sight of Lor appearing from within a crowd that was swarming the market stalls. The boy was wearing simple clothes underneath a thick cloak to protect him from the winter cold. He looked surprisingly refreshed and alert, despite having worked so late the night before. Jeryd noticed that he was receiving glares from several shoppers and merchants, but he seemed to ignore them completely. He was putting something into the bag he had slung over one shoulder. He spotted Jeryd, and a broad smile erupted on his face and he began to run, soon reaching the other assassin.

"There you are," he said, panting slightly. "I've been waiting forever."

"Sorry, I got a bit lost. Again," Jeryd said apologetically. "Ironhill has really changed in the four years I've been gone." A group of shoppers passed them by, giving Lor the same looks the others had. Jeryd answered them with a fierce glare of his own.

"That it has," Lor agreed, noticing what Jeryd was doing. "Don't mind them. They know who I am and what I do, and it's...distasteful, apparently."

"Even if they'd enjoy a night at the Cock all the same," Jeryd said, still glaring at them even as they disappeared from view.

"Come on, this is supposed to be a nice day," Lor said, nudging Jeryd with his shoulder. "Let's take a walk like we used to do."

"All right."

It had been a tradition, of sorts. Every day after the gruelling training, Jeryd and Lor had gone out for dinner, neither of them enjoying the gruel the guild provided their recruits. They'd try something new almost every time, this having been around the time Ironhill had really begun to grow and attracting people from all over the kingdom. It was the only time the recruits really had to themselves. During the evening, Jeryd worked in the brothel while Lor and the younger novices were educated in the sciences.

It was one of the few things Jeryd missed about Ironhill. He had no idea how he and Lor had come to be friends, being so far apart in years, but he guessed the seed of their friendship had been planted when Jeryd had interceded during a training session when Lor had almost been killed by the over-eager instructor. It had only been solidified when he had discovered...well...

As they walked, Jeryd told Lor about what he had been up to in his time away from Ironhill. The boy was particularly interested in the war and the small part he had played in it so far, not to mention his friendship with Sheik and Link.

"You saved his life?" Lor asked with wonder.

"Well, I saved him from drowning in the river, at least," Jeryd said, laughing at Lor's expression. "Angen's medical training saved him from the blood poisoning he'd suffered from the attack."

"And his boyfriend?"

"Link was injured as well, but he never made it into the river. He was taken to Countess Marlotta's estates, where he was rescued by the Gerudo girl, Elenwe, and met up with Kafei, who later found the rebel camp."

"I see...are they close?"

"Who?"

"Sheik and Link, I mean...are they for real?"

Jeryd nearly paused with surprise. "Why are you asking that?"

"Just...it's nice to know that some people actually get to have something like that, that it's not just a fake bunch of bullshit from the stories."

Jeryd swallowed. That was...cynical, and quite surprising coming from Lor. "Yeah, they're for real. Probably the realest love I've ever seen." He was struck with a pang of guilt for trying to kiss Sheik...and pushing him later when he _should_ have been apologising profusely. He did not mention this to Lor. Instead, he focused on studying the boy and the differences in his appearance since he'd seen him last. His face was more angled, his cheek bones and jaw prominent but still soft enough to lend him a somewhat feminine appearance. His eyes looked tired, the kind of which shouldn't have been on such a young boy's face. Jeryd knew he'd looked the same at his age, and hated every second of it. But the thing that offended him the most was the tattoo that ruined his cheek.

Lor sighed. "Go ahead, ask."

"Hm?"

"I know you're curious about the tattoo." He gave Jeryd a wry look. "You're still terrible at hiding your interest from me, Jer."

Blushing at having been caught staring, Jeryd cleared his throat. "The tattoo...what does it mean?"

"It means more than one thing," Lor teased, stroking the black lines with his fingers. "What do you think?"

"Guild ownership?"

"Yes."

"...that's all I can guess," Jeryd said, not wanting to add the more...distasteful ideas.

"It means that I will forever be stuck at the rank of novice and that my place is in the brothel," Lor said, his voice losing the cheerful tone. "For as long as I'm useful, I'll be forced to work in that place. When I'm no longer eligible...I suppose I will be used for an exam."

"That's...terrible," Jeryd said, still horrified even though he had already guessed it.

"It's the best life I can hope for in my position," Lor said as his voice softened a bit to show Jeryd that he had come to terms with it. "It's either this or death...and I don't think I'm ready to see what the great beyond looks like just yet."

"I see...but, you are not the first novice who has been put in this position," Jeryd continued. "And yet I have never seen such tattoos, which means that there's something else." The realisation struck him. "Did they...find out...?"

Lor looked at his feet and nodded. "Yes...they discovered my...gift. One year ago. Just before my exams. I suspect that's why I failed. They never wanted me to graduate."

"How?"

"I'd...rather not say," Lor said as his expression grew shameful, and Jeryd knew not to push. Instead he began to think of ways to cheer Lor up...

...which came, quite unpredictably, two minutes later in the form of a patch of ice, an unsuspecting Jeryd and a stall of mechanical trinkets.

* * *

It was around three in the afternoon when they returned to the Cock. Lor thanked Jeryd for the lovely time and disappeared to the back rooms to wash up, change and get back to work. Jeryd wanted to inquire about booking him for the rest of the day and take him back to Sheik and the others so he wouldn't have to service anyone, but the stern look he got from the matron, the woman in charge of the whores, told him all he needed to know.

He found Sheik and the others busy planning their actions for the night around the blueprints for the ships, with Lezal advising them on the best ways to approach the ships.

"We've decided to split up into two teams," Kafei explained in a neutral tone of voice. "You, Sheik and Lezal will deal with _The Annihilator_. You will neutralise the engineers test-running the engine and disable it by closing the valves and rupturing the boiler."

"And you will deal with _The Reaper_?" Jeryd asked, looking at him and Elenwe, who nodded.

"Correct. _The Reaper_ will be more heavily guarded since weapons and ammunition are valuable and they don't trust the workers not to smuggle some of it out. It will be easier for just E and me to manoeuvre our way around, taking out the guards who are a problem and bring the gunpowder to the engine."

"I see," Jeryd said as he sat down at the low table, looking at the plans for the airships. "How are we coordinating it?"

"From the way Jedistern Tadian explained it, rupturing the boiler will make quite a loud noise. We will use that as a signal to light the fuse and detonate the explosives," Kafei explained further. "Hopefully, the explosion will draw away all attention and let us all escape without being seen."

"And if we are discovered?"

"Then we pray to the Goddesses that we'll be able to fight our way out," Elenwe said.

"Or kill ourselves if we risk being captured," Sheik added. "We all know too much about the rebel army to allow ourselves to divulge the information under torture."

Jeryd nodded. "I understand." An idea had formed in his head. "Might I come along to _The Reaper_?" he asked Kafei. "I think I can be of use—"

"No, I want you to go with Sheik," Kafei said simply. "I want two people I trust to go, and, frankly, I don't trust Lezal at all. No offense."

"None taken," Lezal said politely. "I wouldn't trust me either."

"Ah..." Jeryd had been so surprised by the revelation that, despite their disagreements, Kafei still trusted him enough to go with Sheik. Was it because he now knew what Jeryd had been through in his teenage years? He didn't miss the slight smile that crossed Sheik's face at Kafei's statement, which confused him even more. He was certain Sheik hated him. He ignored Jeryd's questioning look, however.

Half an hour later, there was a knock on the door which Lezal answered. A whispered conversation, and the visitor was gone. Lezal turned to face them.

"I've just been informed that the tunnel has been cleared and that all is ready for tonight's infiltration," he informed them. "The workers' shifts end at ten bells. We will go one hour later. Questions?"

There were none.

"Then I suggest we make our final preparations and get some rest before we go. Jeryd, can I talk to you?"

"In private, I presume?" Jeryd drawled.

"Unless you want everyone to hear about the time I took you up against the wall of the chu—"

"All right, all right," Jeryd said, blushing and practically dragging the older man out of the room. Out in the hall, he paused, glaring at Lezal. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" he hissed. "They mistrust me enough as it is."

"All the more reason to have this conversation away from prying eyes and listening ears," Lezal said and led him a few junctions away. "I'm aware of what the master has asked of you," he said.

"I know," Jeryd said. "What about it?"

"I just wanted to know...are you going through with it?"

Jeryd sighed. "I don't really have much of a choice, do I? He threatened to kill us all if I didn't."

Lezal snorted. "He threatens everyone with that, and I never knew you to be someone who caved in to death threats."

"True," Jeryd said, nodding. "But I can't very well tell you whether or not I'm doing it, can I? You're still loyal to the guild, if I told you, for example, that I intended not to, then you'd have to inform the master and kill me for my betrayal, wouldn't you?"

"In theory, yes," Lezal said. "But in practice, I might act very differently."

"Is that so?"

"Yes. Or I might act according to the theory."

"So...your point is?"

"My point...there is no point," Lezal admitted, sighing. "I just wanted to be alone with you for a little while."

"Why?"

"You know why. I..."

The conversation died just then. Neither of the two former friends and...something closer than friends, knew what to say or even wanted to. They both knew that they could never be what they had once been or do what they had once done. And Lezal knew perfectly why, but damned if he wasn't going to admit it. He probably just wanted Jeryd to say it was his fault—like he always had. But not this time. Jeryd was done with it.

"I don't have time for this," Jeryd said, heading back the room. "Whatever you want to happen, it won't. I have a new life now, and I like it a lot more than my old one."

"Then you know what I'll be forced to do when this is over," Lezal warned.

"I know...and I'll be prepared for it," Jeryd said and went back inside, leaving Lezal to curse quietly to himself in the corridor.

* * *

Rehm stared at the burned-out remains of the once mighty Ise family estate. Bodies were still being dug and carried out by city guards who were covering their faces with cloth to keep the whirling ash and stench of burnt flesh out. The bodies were burned to the point of being unrecognisable.

"And you are sure these are Ise's people?" Rehm asked the guard in charge of the cleanup.

"Yes, sir," he replied, looking uncomfortable at the sight of the carnage. "Most of them, anyway."

"And the others?"

"We have no idea, sir. They carried no recognisable weapons or symbols. They were definitely not guild assassins, though."

"How do you know?" Rehm asked, glancing at him curiously.

The guard cleared his throat. "We, er, asked them, sir. They said that they had no people working in the city at this time."

"And you trusted them? Just like that?"

"Er, the city guard and the assassin's guild have reached somewhat of a practical understanding, sir. We do not meddle in their business, and they let us know what is going on and warn us about any operations of theirs."

"That's rather...worrying, considering the fact that you are employed to _protect_ the good people of our fair city," Rehm said, not surprised at the guard's statement at all. He had actually overseen the meetings between the city guard officers and the assassins—in secret, of course. Not a thing happened in this city without him knowing it. Except...this, of course. He brushed off the guard's attempt at explaining himself and looked back at the mansion. Smoke still rose from the ruins. "Ise knew they were coming."

"It seems that way, sir," the guard answered, relieved at not being scrutinised anymore. "The guards reported a loud commotion and sounds of fighting, but by the time we had assembled a large enough force, it was already too late and the mansion was burning."

"And the councillor herself?"

"We do not know, sir. We have not been able to identify any of the bodies yet."

"I understand. Good show. Now, don't let me keep you from your duties," Rehm said, subtly shooing the man away.

"Yes, Councillor, of course."

As the man hurried off to directly oversee the cleanup, Rehm sighed. Ise wasn't dead. Of course she wasn't. She had expected his plot when he had disbanded the council and immediately fled the city, but not before alerting her house's guards, who had seen through the attackers' disguises immediately. In hindsight, he probably should have hired the assassins to do it. They wouldn't have been so easily defeated by mere guards. Oh well, at least the bloody woman wasn't in a position to challenge him anymore, and that was the important thing. Most likely, she had retreated to the walled city of Caldhaven. She was technically the mayor of the town now that the rest of her family was dead, but Rehm knew she had no military force to speak of. She could stay there and rot for all he cared.

The other councillors, like Ominter, LaMonde and Fonte, had not been as perceptive as their colleague. As they had headed back to their estates, the sell swords under Rehm's command had killed everyone inside and waited for the masters, killing them as soon as they entered. It was made to look like the rebels had attacked the ruling council, especially after Rehm had faked an attack on his own person. It was a tragedy, of course, but at least the council leader was still standing and not afraid of resuming his duties. A new council would not be elected until after the war was over, the King granting himself executive powers and personally taking the reins of the war effort.

Unfortunately, due to Victor's imprisonment deep underneath the castle, a fact to which very few people were privy, it fell to Rehm to guide Lumina to a brighter future. Or, at least until the Silver Guard were defeated and the Winter Palace taken.

Speaking of which, Marlotta was due for another report soon.

He got into the carriage that had taken him to the mansion and was soon on the way back to the castle.

He really should have picked someone with more military experience to go up against the Silver Guard. The countess was ruthless in her ambitions and desire for power, certainly, but she had no real experience with command or tactics. But she had, unfortunately, been the only option now that Agon was dead. But then again, based on his performance with a large army at his command and the support of _The_ bloody _Chimera_ , he doubted Agon would have fared better. The man had been outwitted by a bunch of ragtag exiles whose resources were probably limited to one boot per man and not much else. The battlefield had been a mess, and the general's fate was the only logical conclusion.

Arriving back at the castle, he was handed the newly arrived report by a servant and retreated to his office—the room that had once been the council chambers. He'd had the round table chopped up and burned. It wasn't as if it would ever come in handy again. Seated behind his desk, he opened the report and read it.

_**Major setback. Silver Guard infiltrated and sabotaged a bridge behind the army. Cut off and losing men fast.** _ **The Chimera** _**would be the tie breaker needed to win.** _

_**Eagerly awaiting support,  
Marlotta** _

It was only because Rehm had been expecting it that he did not feel any anger towards the countess. That, and the fact that no matter what way he looked at the situation, it was his own fault that this was occurring. He should have waited and sent someone else than her, someone who knew the Silver Guard and their fighting style. How on earth a besieged army could do so much damage from within the palace walls was beyond his knowledge.

Nevertheless, he could not commit any more forces to the Winter Palace just yet. The rebel army was growing more and more by the day, according to sporadic reports from a hidden mole, and he did not want to have them at his back while he was busy dealing with the Silver Guard. No, he had to crush Drena Riveth, Rial Vortan and the rest, and soon.

He wrote a quick reply to the countess where he denied her support from the airship and sent a servant to dispatch it by carrier pigeon.

 _The Reaper_ and _The Annihilator_ would be complete soon, and then he'd have no less than _three_ ships to maintain air superiority. Perhaps then he could send _The Chimera_ to aid Marlotta while the warships dealt with Riveth's army. But not a moment before.

Another report was delivered to him about an hour later, this one from the mole. It always annoyed Rehm how he or she never gave up any real, useful information apart from the general whereabouts of the rebel army. They were always on the move, which resulted in _The Chimera_ and the other search parties simply finding abandoned camp sites by the time they arrived. It was frustrating, but it was the only source of information Rehm had at his disposal. The report was longer this time.

_**Made contact and skirmished with small company of Royal Army soldiers two nights ago. Rebel army on the move again, heading south from original position.** _

That was already a lot more information than he usually received.

_**Infiltrators up to something in the city of Ironhill, details unknown.** _

That would have something to do with the disappearance of Jedistern Tadian, Rehm supposed. So the rebels knew about the new airships. That was...worrying, but...no, he was certain that the security based around them was more than sufficient to keep the rebel infiltrators out. Besides, the assassins had been instructed to keep an eye out for rebel spies anyway.

_**Rebel general deathly ill with rust lung. Survival of the winter unlikely. Rial Vortan has assumed full command of army. Far less predictable than Riveth.** _

The report ended there. No signature, but Rehm was fully aware of who the mole was, and would reward them handsomely should they survive their tenure. He leaned back in his chair. Drena Riveth was dying, huh? That was a spot of good news, at the very least, even if the location of the army was as vague as ever. And young captain Vortan suddenly in charge of a full army... It was all very interesting, though it made Rehm annoyed for not ensuring the captain's death during the massacre of the Royal Guard.

Nevertheless, he was also impressed by the young man's tenacity. Perhaps there would be some use for him later, when...no, he had to be made an example of, no matter what. A pity, really, but Rehm couldn't afford to go soft. Not now. He was _so close_...

* * *

The gate had been reinforced recently, that much was obvious from the looks of hastily bolted-on iron plating that covered it. It had probably been a menacing enough sight before, with its towering spires and imposing ramparts, on which flew the banner of Lumina. It was fully manned, their armour and polished helmets shining in the sunlight. Cannons lined the tiered walls, as if the rows upon rows of archers and crossbowmen weren't enough. This was the only way into Lumina large enough for an army to pass through.

And it was closed. It didn't look like it was about to open anytime soon.

Zelda frowned, shivering slightly in the frozen wind. Drawing her cloak tighter around her, she looked at General Mirn, who was looking at the gate through his spyglass. "What do you think?" she asked him.

"Gonna be difficult," Mirn said, his frown mirroring hers. "They've reinforced it since I passed through it seven months ago. There weren't any cannons, that's for sure."

"I've yet to see one in action," Zelda said. "Are they truly as devastating as the stories say?"

"Worse," Mirn said, his frown deepening. "A single, well-aimed shot can devastate an entire platoon and reduce it to bits of meat—if Your Highness will pardon an old soldier's unimaginative description."

"I object to the existence of such a weapon," the princess of Hyrule muttered, knowing she wasn't any better, having sanctioned the use of Vorpheus' magic during the war against Ganondorf. "Do we stand any chance?"

"We have numerical superiority," Mirn said. "Can't be more than a few hundred men manning the gate. Get close enough to the gate, out of the cannons' fields of fire, get at least two ladders to stay up...definitely doable. Will be lots of casualties, though, no matter how we do it."

"I was afraid of that," Zelda said. She had consulted with the Sages the night before and asked if they could lend their assistance should she meet heavy resistance at the gate into Lumina, but were too occupied with trying to scry into the land itself. Rauru hid behind the mandates left behind for them to follow by the Goddesses. It was said quite clearly that the Sages were not to interfere with mortal matters unless the fate of the world itself was at stake. Due to lack of evidence, Rauru was hesitant to get them involved. Zelda understood it—in principle. It still left her somewhat annoyed with the Goddesses' stewards. Why wouldn't they lift a finger to help Link and Sheik? And why couldn't she, the proclaimed Leader of the Sages, order them to do it? "When can we launch an attack?" she asked.

"Not yet," Mirn said. "We must parley first."

"Parley? Whatever for?"

"Oh, you know, general posturing and mud-flinging, boasting shouts, demands to be let into one's own country lest a horrible vengeance be wreaked upon the gatekeepers. Rules of war, all that."

"The rules of war demand what can only be considered drama?"

"The rules of war are nothing _but_ drama, as I've learned," Mirn said, adding a wry grin to his limited range of facial expressions. "Even so, I know the man in charge of the gate, and I'd like to give him a chance to surrender peacefully and let us in. I hope you understand, Your Highness."

"Oh, of course, general, I did not mean to imply—"

"No apologies needed," Mirn said, waving her concerns away. "We both know the tolls that civil war exacts upon us. I will put together a party and ride for the gate. Would you like to accompany us?"

Zelda shook her head. "I must decline, general. This is a matter for the people of Lumina. I don't think it will look good for you to ride up to the gate with a monarch from a rival kingdom, after all. They will accuse you of having kneeled before me, and that will only hurt your cause."

"And the battalion of Hyrulian soldiers accompanying us?"

"My bodyguards," Zelda said, giving him a wry grin of her own. "I'm only here for my friends, after all." A surreptitious wink was added.

"Of course," Mirn said, winking back. "Then, if you will excuse me, I have some posturing to prepare for, colourful insults to compose, amusing puns to win the ones sitting on the fence over to my side to think up...who knew being a soldier involved so much lyric poetry?"

She chuckled at that and watched him leave before looking back at the gate. It was flanked on both sides by the tallest mountains she had ever seen. This was their only way in. The only way to Link and Sheik. She hadn't decided yet what to do after retrieving her unlucky brothers, but she had a strong feeling that the civil war would have a third side added. She only hoped that she would be able to remain neutral.

Knowing those two idiots, however, she highly doubted it.

* * *

Rial was walking behind the covered cart inside of which Riveth rested. He had insisted on as few soldiers as possible seeing her in her current state, for the sake of morale. Or so he'd claimed. Truthfully, he just wanted to preserve her dignity.

Her condition had worsened significantly since the battle two nights ago that had seemingly set off her disease. Her breathing was short and stilted, as if she was always running a marathon. It was difficult for her to speak, difficult to walk, even difficult to sleep. That was the worst part, she'd confided in Rial. She'd lie awake for hours, staring up at the roof of the cart, wondering if she'd stop breathing in the night and just pass away, peacefully and quietly. That's not how she wanted to go, she told him. She wanted to go down fighting, preferably taking some enemies with her.

At least the procedure hadn't traumatised her, and enabled travelling the day after. The surgery had been a surprisingly minor one, Agneta had revealed. The blood she'd been coughing up turned out to be a symptom of the rust lung, not the blow she'd taken to the chest from the enemy soldier. The wounds had only been superficial, if several bruised and broken ribs could be referred to as that. It limited her movements a lot, but as Agneta had pointed out, it was just a positive thing as excessive movement exacerbated her condition.

The flaps to the cart parted, and Ard's head poked out from inside the cart. He'd taken to staying by her side at all times, clearly worried about her. It was touching to see, really. But then Rial usually remembered that, as far as Ard was concerned, Riveth was the last family he had left. If she died, he'd be left all alone in a world of adults, half of whom despised him for his abilities. Sure, Riveth's men didn't mind the boy at all, but the rest...the rest eyed him with suspicion, as if expecting him to turn into another Enlightened One at the drop of a hat.

Ard motioned for Rial to come closer, murmuring quietly. "She wants to stop and take a break. The shaking hurts her chest."

Rial nodded. The cart was being pulled over very rough and untraveled terrain. Lying inside the cart must have been like trying to stand on a ship in the middle of a hurricane. Ard retreated back inside the cart as Rial walked quickly ahead of the convoy and ordered everyone to take a break.

They were once again inside the belt of Freyborough. It was the only way he'd dared to take after their army had grown so big—it'd be impossible to remain hidden in any other way now that they had such large numbers on their side. It was a blessing and a curse at the same time.

Small fires were lit to keep the soldiers warm, and Rial oversaw the army coming to a rest before climbing inside the cart. Riveth was lying on a cot, still short of breath, Ard by her side. Her eyes lit up on his entry, however, and she smiled, being helped into a reclining position by the warlock.

"Nephew...thank you...for stopping," she wheezed. "My ribs..."

"I understand," Rial said, nodding. He'd do anything to ease her pain. "We were due for a break anyway. We've made good progress."

"Where...are we?"

"We're a bit further south than we originally intended, close to Caldhaven."

"Ise's town," she said.

"Yes," Rial said, biting his lip. He wasn't too thrilled at the idea of getting so close to the city of a potential enemy (she had supposedly pledged her allegiance to the King, but had not sent any soldiers or supplies their way), but necessity had forced them to. Hopefully, she would just let them pass. Actually, he hoped for a full regiment of soldiers to add to their cause and a standing invitation to take their wounded into the city for help, but...it was a big chance to take.

"She claims...to be an ally," Riveth said, frowning. "But can we...trust her"?

"That's what we don't know," Rial replied. "It doesn't matter anyway, though. She's probably still in the capital, either aiding or fighting Rehm."

"I hope it's...the latter."

"As do I. Until we know for sure, we will steer clear of Caldhaven."

"Wise decision," Riveth agreed. "Should she be revealed as...an enemy, however...you could...take her city for your own..."

Rial shook his head. "The thought has struck me, but taking over Caldhaven and turning it into a fortress will attract the attention of Rehm, and that will bring the wrath of _The Chimera_ back upon us. That's something I'd rather avoid, at least until we've taken it out."

"Speaking of which," Riveth wheezed, "how goes the plan?"

"Jedistern is nearly ready with the training," Rial replied. "As soon as he says so, we go for one of the refuelling sites."

"The best of luck with that."

"Thank you."

Neither of them talked for a few minutes, both listening to the sounds of the resting army outside the cart. Many complained of swollen feet and frostbite. Rial knew it was only a matter of time before people would begin to wonder if he knew what he was doing and whether or not he was worth following. He knew exactly what would remove those doubts—real food and warmth. Unfortunately, the former was difficult to provide since ingredients spoiled very easily and they had to rely on heavily salted items since they were on the move for so much of the time. The latter could be momentarily provided by campfires, but the cold would seep into one's bones eventually no matter what. No, they needed to get inside, out of the wind. Tents could only provide so much shelter before even they succumbed to the chilling temperatures of the Luminan winter. If it hadn't been for _The Chimera_ , Rial wouldn't have hesitated to move into Caldhaven and take over, but as long as the airship was out of reach, they'd be at its mercy. Hopefully, it would be a problem only for a few more days. He shook his head to banish the thoughts and focused on the situation at hand.

"Why didn't you tell me you were sick?" he asked.

Riveth blinked and looked at him. "It's not obvious?" she asked.

"I can see why you wouldn't tell your men, those you aren't close with...but what about me? Or Ard, for that matter?"

Ard nodded in agreement, fixing her with an intense stare.

She knew there was no to avoid answering the question, so she just made a short sigh and sat up a bit more. "If you must know, it was because...I didn't want anyone to worry. You both have...so much on your...plates."

"I think we could have made room for this," Rial said. "We're family, and I thought that meant having no secrets from one another."

"Your father's words...through and through," Riveth said, grinning slightly. "Perhaps he's right...and I wasn't entirely truthful. I...was ashamed."

"Ashamed? Why?" Ard demanded.

"I am a warrior...a leader of warriors...I always thought I would...meet my end in combat, taking my killers with me to hell..." She coughed slightly, groaning at the pain it introduced to her system. "To be laid low by...something as invisible and clandestine...like this...it's embarrassing. Old age...passing away in one's sleep with one's...full dignity intact...I can do that...but this is going to...be an undignified way to go...I'm weak..."

"Ridiculous," the young warlock said.

Rial nodded in agreement. "There is nothing embarrassing about this, aunt. In fact, from what Agneta told me, it's a damn miracle you've been able to keep it at bay for this long. Only true strength would enable you to do so." He put a hand on her shoulder. "No matter what happens, I will always look up to you."

"Thank you...both of you," Riveth said, smiling softly. "But your kind words...do not ease my mind. But that is my problem. Please, I'd like to be alone for a little while before Agneta comes to do her check-up."

They both hesitated, but eventually complied with her wish. Riveth laid back down, staring up at the ceiling of the cart, panting from the exertion. This was no way to live, she decided. She could barely talk without becoming exhausted, much less move. Falling asleep was practically impossible, and she always woke up feeling like she was drowning—which she basically was, there just wasn't any water involved. She was tired of it already, and knowing she had—at best—at least a few more months of this to look forward to, made everything seem so bleak. She also knew she was now just a burden on everyone at this point. She was a distraction for Rial and Ard—they both worried so much about her that it was interfering with their duties. She was drain on Agneta's strength and time—both of which would have been better spent on the soldiers who had injuries that could actually be treated. She was a killer of morale for the rest of the army in general. Most of them had flocked to her because of her experience and reputation as a fierce warrior and commander. Now she could do neither, and the knowledge of her being in such a state couldn't possibly be encouraging in the slightest.

No, this is no way to live, she repeated to herself. And I refuse to let it go on much longer.

* * *

It was almost time for the infiltration. Jeryd was sitting on the porch of the Golden Cock and having a cigarette—his way of calming down before embarking on something big. He was wearing his old assassin's outfit underneath a long robe that kept the chill out. Lezal had "helpfully" kept it for him in case he came back. It was mostly grey, to make the wearer harder to spot in the darkness, and tight-fitting in order to present as little for opponents to grab as possible. Numerous pouches and pockets were sewn into the fabric, offering plenty of room for weapons and tools. He had only a pair of long daggers strapped to his thighs—those were the only weapons he needed.

Lor came outside to join him on his break. He wordlessly plucked the cigarette from Jeryd's mouth and took a single drag from it himself before dropping it on the floor and stomping it out. Upon noticing Jeryd's accusing stare, he simply shrugged.

"Not healthy for you," he said and sat on the bench, next to Jeryd.

"I'd take that message a lot closer to heart if you hadn't taken a drag yourself," Jeryd grumbled.

"I'm young, I'm allowed to be a hypocrite," Lor protested, grinning.

"And I'm old, am I?"

"Compared to me? Pretty much."

"You always were a little brat," Jeryd muttered, trying to hide a grin of his own but failing. "Can't believe you haven't been beaten for it yet."

Lor's smile faded slightly, his gaze falling to his hands resting in his lap. "Happens all the time, really."

Realising he had once again shoved his foot into his mouth, Jeryd also stared at his lap, hands fidgeting. "I...didn't know..." he offered weakly.

But he did know, didn't he? He'd seen the casual manner in which Lezal had slapped Lor the night before, and the way the boy had submissively taken it, almost like he agreed that he'd deserved it. He should've realised then, shouldn't he?

"It's okay," Lor said. "It's not like they didn't beat you when you worked here, right?"

"Right..." He didn't mention that while he had indeed been beaten, it hadn't happened nearly as often or severely as with the other novices. He'd been the _favourite_ , after all.

"Really, Jer," Lor insisted, looking him in the eyes. "It's okay." He shivered slightly, and Jeryd noticed for the first time that he wasn't wearing any outside clothing, only the outfit for work.

"Gods, you must be freezing, here" he said and removed his robe, wrapping it around the boy before he could protest. He rubbed Lor's arms, trying to make sure he wasn't cold. He noticed Lor staring, and paused. "Is something wrong?"

"Nothing, it's just...it's been a while since I've seen you, and now that you're wearing that outfit...it's like you never left." He smiled again. "It's...nice."

"It won't last," Jeryd said, noticing the very well-hidden look of disappointment that crossed Lor's face when he said it. "If the operation is successful, I'm leaving with the others. There's still a war going on, after all."

"I see...will the master agree to that?"

"I highly doubt it," Jeryd said, shuddering slightly. "But then, I don't answer to him anymore. And he tries to get in our way...we'll simply have to kill him."

"Dangerous talk, considering where we are," Lor reminded him quietly.

"Assassins conspire against him every day, at least he _expects_ it from _me_ ," Jeryd said. "Truth is, Jer, I don't think I ever truly believed in this life. I was grateful when I was first accepted as a novice, not that I had much choice, though, but later...after everything we have to go through...it's disillusioning. That's why I jumped at the chance to infiltrate the council in the capital—it would finally let me get away from this place. And after a year of living the simple life of Jeryd the Clerk, I finally knew that I would never truly belong in the guild. It's probably why I jumped at the chance to leave my post and help Sheik escape back then."

"Brave...but foolish," Lor said, leaning closer to Jeryd, practically cuddling up against him. It was for warmth, Jeryd told himself. "You had to know that you would be hunted, surely?"

"That's what I thought," Jeryd nodded. "But the first assassin I saw after the debacle was Lezal, and that wasn't until many months afterwards. It almost felt like the guild had forgotten about me."

"It hasn't," Lor reassured him. "The master has been angry for months. Left more than a few novices traumatised for life."

"You?"

"No...and I'm not a novice anymore, remember?"

"Ah...I'm sorry..."

"Stop saying that, Jer," Lor said, still smiling. "I'm comfortable enough with my situation."

"As a slave?"

"It beats being dead."

"I suppose..."

"Definitely," Lor said firmly, resting his head on Jeryd's shoulder. "It's lonely, though. Everyone knows what I am, and they shun me for it, even the novices I thought were my friends."

"When did they tattoo you?" Jeryd blurted out, having hoped to change the subject. In hindsight, he figured he'd only made things worse.

"Not longer after I was...discovered," Lor said, touching his cheek lightly, letting his fingers trail the delicate design. "It was either this or a brand."

"Did it hurt?" Jeryd asked, surprised when Lor grabbed his hand and made _his_ fingers touch the tattoo as well.

"Very," Lor admitted. "It took several weeks to complete. They did it the old-fashioned way, with a single needle and individual drops of ink. Still not as bad—or ugly—as a brand, though, I think."

Jeryd found himself cursing the guild inwardly for daring to put such an ugly mark on his friend. Bending his head, he kissed Lor lightly on the cheek, to which the boy giggled slightly and returned the gesture. Blushing, Jeryd let his hand drop back into his lap.

"You're disappointed that I'm leaving after the job," he said.

"Yes. I didn't realise truly how lonely I was until you came back and we went for that walk earlier today."

Jeryd didn't quite know what to do with that information and remained silent. Lor noticed, but didn't say anything.

"I know you won't come back," the boy finally said. "I had a feeling you wouldn't when you left in the first place, but...when you win the war, maybe you could come visit? Or write me, or..."

"When we win the war, I'll come back...with the loyalist army at my back and we will tear this entire guild down," Jeryd said, voice firm. "And I'll put the master's head on a pike, just like we did with Agon's."

"I'll hold you to that," Lor said, frowning slightly.

Someone cleared their throat, and they found Sheik standing just outside the door, looking uncomfortable. He had covered his face with his cowl, probably not to attract attention. "Did I interrupt something?" he asked.

Noticing their intimate position, Jeryd cleared his throat and moved slightly away from Lor, who looked disappointed and rose from his seat, bowing slightly to Sheik.

"I'm sorry for taking up his time, Master She—"

"Just Sheik, please."

"...Sheik," Lor finished. "I must get back to my shift. Good luck with your operation." That said, he went back inside, leaving Sheik and Jeryd alone.

"Planning something big, are we?" Sheik said with amusement as he sat down next to Jeryd.

"Just something that I've been repressing for a while," Jeryd said. "The guild deserves to burn."

"Because of what they did to you or what they did to him?" Sheik said.

"Both," Jeryd replied. "...but mostly because of what they did to Lor."

Sheik nodded. "I see...how long have you been aware that he's a mage?"

Jeryd blinked. "You knew?" he asked.

"Sheikah can sense magic in a way humans cannot, it seems," Sheik said. "He suppresses it well, but now and then there are flares of energy that can only be attributed to an innate talent for magic. Ard does it as well, but not as much. I suspect it's because he's had training, unlike Lorasi."

"They don't appreciate magic in Lumina in general," Jeryd said. "It's even worse here in Ironhill, where industry and science reign supreme. There was a wandering magician from a neighbouring nation travelling through here once. He didn't use it offensively—probably wasn't strong enough—but merely produced light shows for the kids. They still came for him, beat him and cut his throat in public. Just because he was a mage. Every mage is another potential Enlightened One, it seems. It's probably why they don't allow Lor to become a full assassin, yet keep him around in case he becomes useful for something."

"Such as?"

"Hell if I know, but it can't be anything good."

"I see..."

Jeryd looked at him. "Why are you talking to me?"

"Pardon?"

"Twice now I've tried to make you cheat on Link, and yet you don't seem to despise me in the way you should."

Sheik nodded slowly. "I...guess I just wasn't as upset as you think I was. And I think I have made my point very clear at this point. What you want us to be can never happen. I'm with Link, and—"

"And I'm a terrible person for trying to steal you away, I know," Jeryd said, trying to look anywhere but at Sheik. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay, Jeryd," Sheik said, patting his shoulder. "For what it's worth, I do find you attractive, but..."

"It can never be." Jeryd blinked. His chest hurt, but not as bad as he had expected it to. There was no knife twisting in his heart, maybe because he had known that nothing would come of him and Sheik, and he'd been preparing himself for the final rejection ever since last night. Maybe he'd even come to terms with it?

"Besides, you have Lor, do you not?" Sheik said.

Confused, Jeryd looked at him. "What do you mean?"

"You seem pretty close, and you did kiss each other right now—"

"It was something we did when we were younger," Jeryd said dismissively. "It's purely platonic."

"Maybe for you, but it's not for him. It certainly doesn't look it, anyway." When Jeryd only continued to stare at him, he rolled his eyes. "You really didn't notice the way he crawled all over you just now?"

"I...guess I didn't," Jeryd admitted. "I thought he was just cold..."

Sheik chuckled. "And you claim to be observant?"

"Never did," Jeryd said. "But if what you say is true...I should probably tell him I don't feel the same way. It's...he's like a brother to me, and to do...things to him...no, it would feel too strange."

Sheik nodded. "The sooner you tell him, the better."

"I'll do it when we get back from the halls. He might take it badly, and it will affect me if he does and probably ruin the infiltration."

"Agreed," Sheik said, standing up. "Speaking of which, we are leaving in five minutes. Are you ready?"

"As ready as I'll ever be," Jeryd replied and gestured at his outfit.

"I'll see you at the tunnel entrance, then," Sheik said and went for the door, pausing as he turned the knob. "Jeryd, I'm...sorry for everything you have had to go through. I'm honestly ashamed that the guild claims to be inspired by my people."

"It's over and done with, Sheik. I don't dwell on it, and neither should you."

"All right. I'll meet you downstairs." There was doubt in the Sheikah's tone, but he didn't press Jeryd on the matter.

Jeryd remained seated for another few minutes, wondering if the thing with Lor was new or something that had been there the entire time; only he'd been too dense to notice. Whichever it was, he felt bad for not noticing earlier and dealing with it. He owed Lor an apology, for sure. Oh well, he'd get it when they got back from the halls. He took a deep breath and shoved all other thoughts but those for the mission aside and went back into the brothel, ready for the mission.

* * *

They were an impressive sight, all of them dressed for infiltration and general sneaky business. Sheik, Kafei and Elenwe had been lent some clothes by the guild which were better than those they had brought along, most of it scrounged up from the army's limited stores. Kafei had his sword on his back and numerous smaller blades in various pouches and pockets. Elenwe had a pair of daggers, her crossbow and a small quiver containing bolts for the weapon. Her hair was pulled tightly back, which only made her face more attractive. Sheik had his new short swords on his back, just like Kafei's, and a set of throwing knives in the holster strapped to his thigh. Jeryd was very much interested in seeing if the sword modified for his crippled hand worked as well Kafei had claimed it would.

They were standing in the small room that contained the hatch that led down into the network of underground tunnels the guild had built. It was quite extensive, but many of the passages had fallen into disrepair, like the one they'd used to enter the city.

Lezal was the last to arrive, dressed identical to Sheik. He was carrying an ordinary crossbow and a full quiver of bolts. Jeryd remembered that Lezal had always preferred ranged combat and had excelled at it during training.

"Are you ready?" he asked, wasting no time as he opened the hatch.

"Let's get this over with," Elenwe said and immediately climbed down through the hatch, closely followed by Kafei and Sheik. Jeryd made to climb down, but Lezal's hand on his shoulder stopped him. "Something you should know," he whispered.

"What is it?" Jeryd hissed.

"Aina's here."

His blood ran cold. "Aina? Are you sure?"

"Pretty damn sure, since she all but beat one of the guards to death when they demanded to see proof of her identity. The master's not happy about it."

"I can imagine. Unpleasant as her presence is, why is it important for me to know?"

Lezal paused, looking down the hatch. "Apparently she has a score to settle with the Gerudo who crippled her. And she knows they're here."

"Who told her?"

"I've no idea, but you should keep it in mind."

"Hey, are you two coming, or what?" Kafei asked from below, his voice slightly metallic from bouncing off the iron walls of the tunnels.

"Right now," Jeryd announced back, giving Lezal a look. "Thanks for the warning," he said quietly and began climbing down. Lezal followed him, closing and sealing the hatch with the wheel.

* * *

Thus began an hour-long trek through the tunnels beneath the city. There were many twists and turns, and it was seldom they were headed straight for the machine halls. Lezal explained that they'd been forced to build them this way in order to mimic the sewer system as closely as possible should anyone start digging haphazardly through the ground. It would be a disaster if the network was discovered by the guards, after all.

"Here, we're entering the manufacturing district now," Lezal said, pointing out a drawing of a cogwheel that seemed to have been burned into the metal wall. "Not far now."

"What does the halls look like on the inside?" Kafei asked as they walked.

"Difficult to describe," Lezal answered. "Imagine the biggest workshop you've ever seen, and enlarge it by...a thousand. Standing inside them is like standing inside a great big cave. The ceiling is impossibly high, the darkness oppressive wherever a gaslight isn't there to provide illumination, and the noise...the noise of thousands of workers and craftsmen going about their jobs. Hammers, saws, drills...it's quite amazing."

"How many stories deep, would you say?" Elenwe said.

"At least thirty, perhaps as high as fifty. Five of them above ground, the rest below."

"That's enormous," Sheik said in awe.

"Indeed. Hopefully, the halls will be deserted. The shifts ended about an hour ago, and most of the guards will be mostly stationed around the checkpoints, which we are currently avoiding. The ships will be different, most likely. Plenty of guards, especially around the engine sections. If you have to kill, do it quickly and quietly, and make sure the bodies won't be found until _after_ we've done what we came for."

"And if an alarm is sounded before we're done?" Jeryd asked.

"Then haul ass and _get it done_ ," Lezal said.

They reached the passage that led into the halls, which was far narrower than the rest of the network. They eventually had to crawl through it one by one as it turned into a pipe.

"Where does it this open?" Kafei asked at the very front.

"One of the lesser used storage rooms in hall number one," Lezal answered, voice strained. "Behind a cistern, fifteen floors above the factory floor."

"Got it," Kafei replied. "All right, I've found the hatch. Pushing it open."

The sound of grinding, rusty metal was heard, and the smell of stale air reached their nostrils. Kafei climbed out of the pipe, assisting the others as they reached him. The storage room was pitch black, but Sheik and Kafei helped the others find their footing and found the door to the halls proper. Emerging onto one of the many catwalks lining the machine hall walls, all of them gasped, even Lezal, who had probably never been inside.

Lezal's description of the halls did them no justice. They were enormous, massive and cavernous that seemed to stretch on forever into the distance, the only thing hinting at an end to the openness being the lights on the opposite wall. Fifteen floors below, they could see the shacks, workshop tables and tools littering the floor itself, hundreds of little lights shining like pinpricks in the dark. They looked infinitely small from up there. Above, they could not even see the ceiling, only a massive expanse of pure darkness. But the thing that had their jaws dropping was the pair of airships currently dry-docked.

They rested on massive cradles and were surrounded by scaffolding. The ships themselves were gigantic, far larger than their sister ship, _The Chimera_ , and looked different. Where _The Chimera_ simply looked like a normal, seafaring vessel that had been plucked out of the ocean, had a large balloon attached to it and let loose in the skies, _The Annihilator_ and _The Reaper_ looked like elongated metal hulks, little more than lumps of metal bristling with gunports. Massive pipes jutted out of the ships' stern sections, apparently the exhaust pipes of the steam engines. The upper decks were not visible from their position, but it was surely as impressive as the rest of the ships. One of the ships was decidedly less complete than the other, lacking much of the armour plating the other had.

"No sails," Elenwe noted, seemingly in awe of the vessels.

"With steam engines, they are not needed," Lezal said, just as awed. "The ones on _The Chimera_ are supposedly just for decoration."

"I don't see the gas balloons."

"They're integrated into the hulls, according Jedistern's plans," Sheik said. "Instead of one large balloon, there are many smaller sections. Presents less of a target for enemy cannons, perhaps."

"How are we getting...on them?" Jeryd asked, keeping his voice as quiet as possible. There was an unnatural echo in the halls.

Kafei leaned on the rail of the catwalk, studying the ships in the half-gloom. What was invisible to Jeryd, Lezal and Elenwe was visible to him and Sheik. "Gangplanks have been raised," he said quietly. "Scaffolding isn't high enough."

"Up there," Sheik said, pointing upwards. "Cranes and suspended chains and ropes. We'll have to rappel down onto the decks."

"Dangerous," Jeryd said. "Easy to be spotted doing that."

"It's our best option for now," Kafei said. "I think we should split up here and get to it. We meet back here when we're done."

"Which ship is which?" Elenwe asked.

"That one is _The Reaper_ ," Sheik said, pointing at the one that looked most complete. "The other one is _The Annihilator_."

"How could you possibly know that?" she demanded.

"Because their names are painted on the hull," Sheik said in a deadpan, pointing at the stern of the nearest ship. The letters were quite large. Elenwe glared at him, to which Sheik only shook his head. "Not observant either, huh?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing," Sheik said innocently, winking at Jeryd, who also looked offended. "Shall we, gentlemen?"

"All right," Kafei said, nodding at them. "Sheik, Jeryd, Lezal...good luck."

"Same to you, Kafei, Elenwe," Sheik replied. They looked at each other for a few moments before the two teams separated and went different ways. Kafei and Elenwe began climbing the stairs next to them, already close enough to their target. Sheik and the others followed the catwalk until _The Annihilator_ was fully in view and not obscured by her sister. There, they found another set of stairs and began to climb. They did not stop until they were, by Sheik's count, at least forty stories above the factory floor, on the level with the cranes that were built into the walls and mounted on rails. One of the cranes' loading pallet happened to be suspended just above the upper deck of the airship. Their jaws fell open once more upon seeing it.

It was littered with small towers, most of which looked more gun emplacements. Archer positions, protected from enemy fire by shields of steel lined the edge of the deck, giving no opportunity for enemies on a lower level to fire upon them. A slightly larger tower protruded from the very middle of the deck. The bridge, according to Jedistern's plans. Two levels of instruments and observation ports. And currently unimportant, as their price lay far below.

Guards were wandering aimlessly around on the deck, apparently confident that no one would be able to sneak past the checkpoints.

 _What fools they are_ , Sheik thought. Luckily for them, none of the wandering troops were close to the loading pallet.

"Let's not waste any time," he whispered to Jeryd and Lezal. "Climb."

All three quickly scaled the crane and shimmied over to the wire suspended from the crane. Sheik was the first to slide down to the pallet, quietly climb off and land rolling on the upper deck, quickly seeking cover behind one of the smaller gun towers. Jeryd was next, and Lezal last. Sheik noticed that the pallet had begun to swing back and forth a little due to their movement, but not too much to alert anyone.

"How do we get below deck?" Lezal whispered.

"One of the stairwells, like that one," Sheik whispered back and pointed at a tower on the opposite side of the deck. Light spilled out from the open door, and voices could be heard from within. "Should be one just opposite of it. Follow me."

They hurried from tower to tower, staying out of sight of the guards. As they moved, Sheik became aware of the fact that the deck beneath their feet was vibrating. It was almost unnoticeable.

 _Must be the engine running,_ he reasoned.

"Can you see Kafei and Elenwe?" Jeryd asked quietly.

Sheik looked in the direction of _The Reaper_ , but could only see the faint lights from the portholes and open doors on the upper deck. "No," he answered. "They might be onboard already."

"Then let's not waste any time," Lezal said, moving the next tower, which happened to be one connected to a stairwell.

They carefully slipped inside, hoping their entry wasn't spotted by the guards. The stairwell was steep and narrow, and one wrong step would send them crashing to one of decks, surely inciting every guard on the ship. Gaslights provided illumination, a clever system that ran throughout the ship. The vibration was getting more noticeable now, and a quiet hum could be heard.

"Which deck holds the engine room?" Lezal asked.

"Three through five, but we want the fourth, where the boiler is located," Sheik replied. "And before you ask, we count from the bottom of the ship, so we've quite a ways to go."

"This ship is much bigger than _The Chimera_ ," Jeryd said. "How many crewmembers does it require?"

"Jedistern didn't say," Sheik said as they reached a small platform with a door that led into the main interior of the ship. "At least a few hundred, probably more. I've no idea how these things work and I definitely don't know how many hands are needed to keep it running."

Further down, the stairs turned into a ladder. Sheik was positive that they had found a maintenance passage rather than any of the main stairs, which suited him just fine. There was a much lesser chance of encountering any guards here. They climbed for what felt like forever, but they eventually reached the platform with a large number 4 painted beside its door. Small letters underneath it read:

**Engine compartment  
Crew quarters  
Magazine 4-A**

"Crew quarters on the same level as the engine?" Lezal asked with surprise. "How could anyone sleep?"

The vibration was strong enough to rattle the metal walls now, and the hum was loud enough to necessitate raising their voices. It only got worse when they opened the door and the roar of the test-firing engine grew in volume to the point where their eardrums began to hurt. Sheik signalled them to move ahead and into the narrow corridor beyond, hugging the walls to minimise the chance of being spotted.

The floor was carpeted, which did little to muffle the sounds of the engine, but at least it absorbed the shaking somewhat, leaving them a little more sure-footed. Lines painted in different colours seemed to be used as guides towards the different compartments on this deck. A helpful map mounted on the wall at a junction revealed that they were quite a distance away from the engine compartment. There were several routes they could choose to get there, but further inspection of the closest one revealed it to be patrolled by at least two guards.

"Let's split up," Jeryd said, loudly enough for his companions to hear over the din. "Less a chance of being spotted and we can learn a bit of the ship's layout at the same time."

"All right," Sheik agreed, knowing that having three people trying to sneak through the same cramped hallways would only lead to trouble. "We will meet up in the engine compartment. Do not make a move unless the other two have arrived. Who goes where?"

"I'll take this way," Jeryd said quickly, indicating a path that would take him past the magazine, through the crew quarters and to the east entrance to the engine compartment. Lezal picked one that ran parallel to Jeryd's, but on the other side of the ship, which left Sheik to take the middle path through another set of crew quarters. They nodded good luck to each other and separated wordlessly.

Sheik ensured that his companions were on their way before starting to move himself. Easing himself through the narrow doorway into the bunk area of the crew quarters, he realised that he had drastically underestimated the total number of crewmembers _The Annihilator_ could hold. He counted seventy-five bunks alone in this room, and suspected that they were used in shifts, which meant that there was room for a hundred and fifty men just here, and he remembered that Jedistern's plans had showed at least eleven additional crew compartments like this one.

 _Over two thousand,_ he thought. The number alone was enough to make him dizzy, but when he began to wonder about the logistics of supporting such a ship. How much hydrogen gas was needed to keep it afloat, much less how wood and water it would take to work up enough steam to propel it forwards? And then there was the matter of feeding the crew and arming its weapons...

Sheik suddenly felt very small on this gargantuan ship, and with good reason. It didn't help that he knew that thousands of tons of steel rested both above him and below him, all of supported by a superstructure that hadn't looked particularly strong on the plans. One minor, bending girder and the entire thing would collapse in on itself, crushing everything and everyone within. It didn't help with his dizziness one bit, and combined with the vibration of the engine and the roar, it left him so uncomfortable he had to sit down for a bit, hiding behind one of the bunks. He was lucky the ship wasn't fully manned yet.

The seal began to smart at this time as well, further adding to his discomfort. Cold sweat began to bead on his forehead, and he felt certain he was about to vomit. Damn it, he had been underground before, why was this so different? He closed his eyes and breathed in deep, exhaling slowly and repeated it several times. It helped against the nausea, but the pain from the seal only increased in intensity, turning into a slightly burning sensation.

 _Damn it, what do you want?_ Sheik thought angrily, cursing once again the day he had ever encountered the shadow.

 _ **Just wanted to warn you that your friends are making good progress while you are not,**_ Speil's voice suddenly said, as loud and clear as if he was sitting right next to Sheik, which made him jump with surprise.

_You! How can you talk? You're sealed up!_

_**Indeed I am, but your subconscious must have realised you needed someone to snap you out of this trance you're in, and finally let me speak to you directly,**_ Speil answered, sounding almost amused. _**This is a new development for you, is it not? Usually, I've been the only one who could reduce you to this gibbering mess.**_

_Shut up!_

_**You know, I don't think I will. I have been left gagged and tied ever since that fiasco with the seal and this is my first chance to speak in weeks. So no, I won't shut up, pet.**_ _**In fact, since this is such a dangerous mission and our survival rests on you being at your best so we can actually hope to escape this place with our lives, I intend to aid you.**_

 _What? How?_ Sheik wondered, suspicious.

Speil chuckled, further infuriating Sheik. _**It's working already, isn't it? You're distracting yourself from your troubles by being angry at**_ **me** _ **.**_

 _You_ are _one of my troubles_ , Sheik thought, annoyed when he realised that Speil was actually right. The walls didn't feel as close and pressing as before, and his stomach had ceased being upset, leaving his head clear and able to focus on the task at hand.

_**Yes, but I'm the lesser of two evils at the moment, am I not?** _

_You're rated on a different scale,_ Sheik replied nastily. _Now shut up and let me work_.

_**Very well, but I** _ **will** _**have my say when I feel like it is necessary** _ **.**

That surprised Sheik. Speil had never been one to take orders like that. In fact, he had a feeling the shadow would simply be contrarian and do the exact opposite of what he said every damn time. But now...perhaps he truly was serious about wanting them both to get out alive. He paused. Who was he kidding; of course Speil was concerned for his own existence, which apparently rested on Sheik being alive.

Annoyed that his tormentor was back, he scowled and moved ahead, wondering how Link would react to this.

* * *

Jeryd had been forced to dodge at least two patrols by the time he reached the magazine. Easily picking the lock with his tools, he slipped inside, closing the door behind him. It was as unguarded as most of the rest of the ship, it seemed. No one deemed infiltrators being much of a danger as long as the ship was dry-docked, apparently.

It suited him just fine. The gaslights cast their eerie glow upon the varieties of munitions contained within the magazine, which was much bigger than the largest barracks back in the rebel camp. Regular cannonballs were the most common type of ammunition, it seemed. There were also two balls attached to each other by a thick chain, which Jeryd shuddered to imagine what was for. Barrels containing grapeshot were next, the tiny balls of lead a sure danger for infantry. Then he found the shelves containing the weapons he was looking for.

They were smaller than the cannonballs, about twice as big as his fist, but surprisingly light, probably due to the fact that the outer shell was made of a special alloy developed by some engineers. A wick stuck out of their tops—fuses.

Jeryd grinned. He'd seen these in action before when the guild had raided a royal armoury back before he'd left for the capital. The bombs were so tightly packed with gunpowder that a single one would demolish an entire, medium-sized building.

"Perfect," he muttered and slipped a pair into the largest holsters on his outfit. They hardly weighed him down at all, which made him grin. Perhaps there was hope after all, then.

He quietly slipped out of the magazine and continued towards the engine compartment, hoping that he hadn't wasted too much time with locating the bombs. He'd hate to be the last one there, after all.

* * *

Kafei panted and withdrew his sword from the dead guard's torso. On the other side of the crew quarters, Elenwe was doing something similar. The walls and bunks were covered in blood sprays, an unfortunate consequence of fighting within such cramped quarters.

"You all right?" he asked his partner, who nodded wordlessly.

They had just reached the ship's magazine when a patrol of five men had come upon them. Kafei and Elenwe had managed to push them backwards with a ferocious storm of blades and into the crew quarters, where they had quickly been overwhelmed and taken down. Luckily, they'd been too busy trying to fend off the Sheikah and Gerudo to alert anyone else about their presence. Sealing the crew quarters behind them, they could only hope that no one would get curious about what was inside and find the carnage.

They resumed work on the magazine door, slipping inside as soon as it was open. They had staked out the way to the engine room already, which was left unguarded, surprisingly enough. Guarding the big guns that were still left on the upper deck was a bigger priority, apparently.

They found some barrels of gunpowder and bombs that would be perfect for destroying the engine and began to load up a small cart. The carpet would hopefully muffle the noise it made.

"I've been thinking," Elenwe said as the loaded.

"Never a good sign, but go ahead," Kafei said jokingly. They were both focused on the mission now, which left all the...uncomfortable emotional issues out of the equation, opening up for their usual banter. He had missed it.

"Since we're blowing shit up anyway..."

"Yes?"

"Why don't we, after taking out the engine, blow up this magazine as well? My estimates tell me that it'd blow a nice hole in the hull. That way, they'd have two boo-boos to fix."

"I like the idea," Kafei said. "But how would we do it? Once the engine goes up, every guard on the ship will be after us."

"Easy, we prepare it in advance. That way, we just have to retreat back here, light the fuse and keep running. Maybe a few guards will be caught in the blast, even. Hell, could prove the distraction we need to get the hell out, wouldn't it?"

Kafei found himself nodding. "Could work, could work," he said. "All right, as soon as we've loaded this one up, we set up this room. Where should we lead the fuse?"

"Back the maintenance shaft we come down, maybe? That's the way we're leaving, isn't it?"

"Right," Kafei said. "Let's just hope none of them snuffs the fuse out before it blows."

They finished filling the cart with enough explosives and began pouring gunpowder all over the magazine.

"You know, I've been thinking too," he said, uncorking a barrel and tipping it over.

"An even worse sign than _me_ thinking," she said with a grin.

Kafei hesitated. He really _had_ been thinking for the past few days. About what had been said about him and E. More specifically, what Sheik had said. He had brushed off his cousin's words back at the camp, but they had haunted him at night. Perhaps they were right, perhaps he _was_ making mistake by clinging to Anju's memory like he had been doing over the years. He didn't want to ruin the good pace they'd been making on the mission, but it might be their last chance. He cleared his throat.

"I...want to apologise," he said.

"For what?" Elenwe asked, raising an eyebrow.

"For...not...considering your feelings about our...lack of a relationship and how I...rejected it..."

"You really want to discuss this _now_?" she asked, exasperated. "Hardly a fitting time, you know?"

"Possible the only time we have left," he said and lifted the barrel, spreading the deadly powder all over the floor, close to the other barrels. "And...I wanted to say that I've given it a lot of thought, and...you're right. I've been clinging to... _her_ too much, and it hasn't been fair...and I _do_ like you…"

She paused, eyes widening. "What are you saying?"

He avoided looking at her as he spoke, "I…want to be with you."

Her mouth fell open in surprise, but her eyes narrowed soon after. "What if I don't want to be with _you_ anymore? What if I've moved on?" It was a badly executed joke, and she was unable to maintain her serious expression when she saw the look of pure disappointment on Kafei's face after she'd spoken. "Okay, this really isn't the time for it, but for now…I accept. We can discuss it further when we're out of this damn place. Agreed?"

"Agreed," Kafei said, smiling almost shyly at her. He looked around. "I deem this room properly booby-trapped, don't you?" She nodded. "Then I say we go and shove all this crap into the furnace."

* * *

The engine compartment was enormous, quite possibly the largest room on the ship next to the cargo hold, which was seemed vast on the plans. Catwalks crisscrossed over the open space, below which could be found the pistons and other mechanical objects that ensured the craft was propelled forward. At the very end, the furnace and boiler could be found.

The noise in here was the worst, and Sheik found himself needing to use a pair of earplugs he'd fashioned out of candle wax. All of the infiltrators carried them, and he hoped they all used them. Creeping along a catwalk, he looked below and saw that there were quite a few engineers overseeing the testing of the engine. They were looking at brass dials with arrows that spun both fast and slow, monitoring gauges that measured Goddesses knew what. The raised platform by the furnace and boiler was occupied by five people, two of whom seemed to be engineers and the rest guards. It seemed, from the angle from the floor, to be impossible for the people down there to see what was happening on it, and, apart from Sheik, those five men were the only ones on this level. That would make it easier to take them out without being seen—and the noise would mask any sounds of fighting.

He looked to his left and spotted Jeryd creeping along another catwalk. He acknowledged him with a nod, and then Lezal who came creeping into the compartment through the west entrance, close to the platform. He spotted them, nodded and retreated into the shadows provided by a complex-looking series of pipes that jutted out of the floor by the door.

Sheik and Jeryd were close to the platform now, but they would have to jump down on it from their positions. Sheik waited until both he and Jeryd were in position, ensuring that Lezal was ready, before giving a signal. As one, they pounced on the group on the platform.

There was no time to find a non-lethal way to go about it. They subdued and cut their throats, holding them down as their bodies' twitching seized, pulling them to the centre of the platform to ensure they were out of sight of the men downstairs.

Sheik saw that his two companions were also wearing the earplugs, and he had a feeling everyone was quite happy he'd come up with the idea, as even now their ears hurt because of the sound. Having to rely on hand signals, they began to study the panels and valves that covered the walls beside the furnace.

It seemed the engine was running on full steam, and the fire inside the furnace burned so hot that it almost melted the metal around it.

Remembering the drawings Jedistern had made for him, Sheik quickly located the valves they'd need to manipulate to rupture the boiler. He pointed them out to Jeryd and Lezal and motioned for them to start turning them all at the same time. They each took a set of valves and, after another signal from Sheik, began to turn.

 _ **Oh my, this will be interesting,**_ chuckled Speil, his voice still clear to Sheik despite the background noise. He ignored the shadow and kept turning, noticing that several of the dials and gauges were beginning to turn wildly, a sign of internal pressure already building up within the boiler. He risked a look around and noticed that several of the men downstairs were beginning to look up at the platform, which only served to spur him on. They had to do it quickly, or they'd be discovered and have to abort the mission.

Heart beginning to beat wildly, he began on the next set of valves, noticing the vibration getting worse, and growing out of control.

Someone slapped his shoulder, and Jeryd came into view, tapping his wrist and jerking a thumb towards the nearest exit. The earplugs were useless now, the noise growing to deafening intensity. A spanner slammed into the wall next to him, soundlessly. He finally turned around and saw that the guards and engineers had caught on to what was happening and were climbing the stairs towards them.

 _Time to leave,_ Sheik thought and allowed himself to be pulled away by Jeryd. He looked back at the control panels before ducking through the door. _I hope we did enough._

He got his answer a few minutes later when an ear-shattering explosion could be heard and the entire ship rocked back and forth in its cradle. Steam erupted from dozens of pipes that ran along the corridor, clouding their view and making the air swelteringly hot. The gaslights flickered, many of the pipes carrying their fuel also having ruptured during the explosion. Picking themselves up from the deck, they continued running. Lezal had come this way, so he took the job of guiding them back to the place they'd come in.

The ship had fallen almost completely silent after the explosion. The ruptured pipes hissed loudly, and voices could be heard in the distance as everyone onboard tried to figure out what had just happened. Sheik removed his ear plugs, fearing his eardrums had ruptured, but found no evidence of it happening.

"Come on, this way," Lezal shouted, taking them through winding corridors and past dark, empty compartments. "Not far!"

"Ah, shit, here they come," Jeryd shouted from behind them. "Right behind us!"

The shouting voices were growing louder, and not even the carpet could muffle the sound of their boots thundering along the corridors.

"Run faster!" Lezal shouted. "We're nearly there!"

They finally spotted the maintenance ladder they'd climbed down and piled into the small compartment. Lezal climbed first, followed by Sheik and then Jeryd, who made sure to seal the door behind them. Someone began hammering on it almost immediately, but Jeryd used one of his daggers to jam the wheel.

"It's not going to hold them forever!" he yelled. "Climb!"

They had just reached the end of the ladder and the beginning of the stairs when another roar could be heard, but this one coming from outside.

"Must be Kafei and Elenwe doing their bits," Sheik said. A shockwave seemed to hit _The Annihilator_ , and it once again rocked back and forth in its cradle. This only made the saboteurs climb faster, and soon enough they were carefully opening the door to the upper deck. It was almost deserted, save for the few guards who had gathered on the opposite side to gaze in disbelief at the flames that were erupting from a massive hole in _The Reaper_ 's side, its hull ripped clean through. Smoke was pouring out of its ventilation openings as well, and the exhaust ports, proving that they had probably completely destroyed the engine.

 _What the hell did they do?_ Sheik wondered as he stared at the burning hole in its side.

 _ **Went above and beyond the call of duty?**_ Speil's snarky voice suggested, which Sheik ignored completely.

"Hey, they're over here!"

One of the guards had spotted them, and he and his friends quickly drew their weapons and ran towards them.

"I just realised a fatal flaw in our plan," Jeryd said.

"Which is?" Sheik asked.

"How the hell are we getting off this thing?"

Sheik looked towards the loading pallet they'd climbed down. It had shifted, and now hung well below the upper deck. Close enough to the catwalks on the walls, it seemed...

His thoughts were interrupted by the guards reaching them. Lezal had taken down two with his crossbow and was working on his third, having stabbed him in the throat with a bolt. Jeryd quickly dispatched the two remaining ones with a fast series of swipes with his remaining dagger. For the first time Sheik noticed that two of his holsters were bulging, which he was fairly certain they hadn't before entering the machine halls.

_He must have stolen something from the ship. I wonder what._

"The pallet's rope," he announced to the others. "We'll use it to swing over to the wall!"

"How?" Lezal asked.

"Cut the pallet off with a bolt, I'll handle the rest!"

"Might want to hurry, more of them are coming!" Jeryd said as several of the doors on the deck slammed open, revealing more guards.

Lezal didn't hesitate as he loaded his crossbow once more, ran over to the side of the deck and fired at the rope that held the loading pallet suspended. It snapped at once, dropping the heavy platform and allowing the rope to hang free. The assassin was about to ask what he just did it for when Sheik suddenly ran past him, scaled the rail and hurled himself at the rope. He managed to grab it, swinging himself towards the catwalks. He reached out with his left hand, managed to curl his remaining fingers around one of the railings, and clung on. Climbing over it, he swung the rope back, and Lezal did the same as Sheik, who helped him up. Jeryd was barely able to jump off the ship before the first guard reached him, their hands grabbing at the empty air the assassin had occupied moments before. The human slammed painfully into the railing, but Sheik and Lezal were ready to pull him over the side.

"Go, go, go!" Sheik shouted. "Back to the tunnel!"

As they ran for the exit, Sheik saw hundreds of guards were now pouring into the halls from the checkpoints, all of them confused about what had just happened. The air tasted of smoke and metal, the black clouds billowing out of the _The Reaper_ beginning to build up underneath the ceiling. The place would turn into a death trap soon if the fires weren't put out.

Kafei and Elenwe were waiting for them by the door to the storage room, waving them over quicky.

"Where the hell were you?" Elenwe asked.

"We had to improvise our way off the ship!" Sheik explained. "Can we please leave?"

Soldiers had begun to climb the catwalks, having spotted them running, but they'd be far too late to reach them.

They squeezed into the pipe they had entered through, Lezal entering last and sealing the hatch from within.

A strange sort of mood settled over them as they crawled their way back towards the tunnel system again. The gravity of what they had just done dawned on them, and it was the oddest sensation Sheik had ever felt. For once, nothing had gone wrong, save for the _slight_ cock-up about their escape route. _My responsibility, that,_ he reminded himself.

_**That it was.** _

_Shut up._

"Won't they find the tunnel eventually?" Kafei asked when they finally reached the main passage.

"Doubtful," Lezal said, brushing ash and dust off his clothes. "But just to be sure, we'll post some guards here to take care of any...unwelcome guests."

"I can't believe we just did that," Elenwe said, her voice quivering from excitement and adrenaline. "We just...blew them up!"

"What was with the fire?" Sheik asked Kafei, who shrugged.

"Cover for our escape," he said. "Bigger problem for the enemy to solve, too."

"Whatever it was, it was brilliant," Sheik said, grinning at his cousin, who grinned back.

"Not to be a stick in the mud, but I'd rather we got out of here," Jeryd said, interrupting the moment. "The farther away from the machine halls, the better."

"I agree," Lezal said. "Come on, there's food and drink waiting for us at the Cock. This is a story that'll be told in the guild in years to come!"

* * *

Their walk back to the guild was relaxed and leisurely; all of them deciding they'd earned a little calm to themselves. They traded stories of their infiltration and subsequent sabotage of the ships. They all agreed it had almost been too easy, but only because the guards had been so lax with security, believing there to be no other ways into the halls than through the checkpoints.

"...I got pretty worried when Kafei almost dropped a match into the furnace before we'd finished filling it with explosives," Elenwe said, cackling. "You should've seen the look on his face!"

"It wasn't even lit," Kafei protested. "Besides, when you failed to light your own match to blow up the magazine during the escape? That's when _I_ got worried."

"Doesn't beat Sheik's look when he realised he'd forgotten about an escape route," Jeryd said, grinning from ear to ear. "It was the perfect look of disbelief with a tiny amount of shame mixed in with it."

"What did you expect when I'd forgotten something so vital to the mission?" Sheik said, feeling his cheeks burn with embarrassment.

"Well, cousin, you did well when you improvised, so no harm, no foul," Kafei said, which earned him a genuine smile from Sheik.

They were in good spirits when they reached the ladder that led back up to the guild headquarters. Lezal climbed up first, followed by Kafei, Elenwe and Sheik. Jeryd was last. As he climbed, he felt like he could taken on the world, that nothing would stand in his way as he executed his plan for the guild that—

The sounds of struggling and muffled shouting above snapped him out of it, and he raced up the ladder. His heart sank as he came upon a terrible sight. Sheik, Kafei and Elenwe were on the floor, the blades of multiple assassins at their throats, holding them down. Lezal was holding Kafei, who spat at him.

"What are you doing?" Jeryd demanded.

"Exactly what you told me to do, Jeryd," Lezal said innocently. "Subduing them."

"What? I..." The outrage he felt wouldn't even permit him to speak, so he went for his last dagger instead, but found the holster empty, to his horror. Then he saw it sticking out of Lezal's belt, and the truth dawned upon him. They'd all been set up. "You son of a bitch—"

"I'm sorry, but I came up first so I took the initiative, but it was a good plan," Lezal continued, watching as the ones on the floor had their hands and feet tied together and their mouths gagged. "Congratulations on capturing the master two genuine Sheikah, Jeryd," he said as he put his weapons away and straightening up. "That will certainly get you back into the guild."

Rushing forward to strike at Lezal's face, he found the tip of a blade digging into his back, courtesy of the assassin standing right behind him. The unvoiced threat was clear enough. One more step and he'd be dead. Sheik and the others were hauled to their feet and were taken out of the room. The look Sheik sent him was filled with so much anger and betrayal it made Jeryd choke on his breath. They hadn't been able to see that he was under the threat of death. Glaring at Lezal, he wished death upon the bastard.

"You knew this was coming, Jer," Lezal said, toying with Jeryd's dagger. "You knew what needed to be done. But _I_ knew that you wouldn't have the guts, in the end, so I did it for you. Welcome back to the fold."

"Fuck you, I—"

An assassin slammed his fist into Jeryd's stomach, knocking the air out of his lungs. He felt his arms being seized and was dragged out of the room.

"Take him to his room and make sure he _stays there_ until the master says otherwise," Lezal's voice called after them.

Gasping for breath, Jeryd tried to struggle, but the assassins held him in an iron grip, and all he was able to do was growl and bark at them. Tears of shame streaming down his face, he could only repeat one sentence again and again in his head.

I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry...

* * *

**Soul Remnants  
Chapter 53**

* * *

Sweat ran down Rial's forehead as he attempted to pull his sword out of the unfortunate dead soldier's body. The blade had caught on something, and the general eventually had to put his foot on the dead man's chest and tug with all his might. The sword came loose with a disgusting wet sound and the momentum nearly took him off his feet, but he regained balance just in time. The snowy ground was covered in blotches of red, the essence of the man Rial had just killed.

Lord Reimos came up behind him as he cleaned his blade, sliding it back it into its scabbard. He greeted the man with a nod. There was no need for formality on a battlefield.

"This is ridiculous," Reimos said, resting his mace on his shoulder. It was covered in blood, though the lord made no attempt at cleaning it. "What is this, the fourth such group we encounter in as many days?"

"Yes," Rial confirmed, looking around them. The battle was dying down, the last of the attacking Royalists were dead, dying, captured or fleeing. Those who attempted to escape were quickly brought down from behind by Riveth's skilled archers. It was a dirty way to do it, but they couldn't risk their position being more compromised than it already was. "This one was larger, though, and better equipped."

"Must mean we're getting close to the main battalion or whatever it is that keeps supplying the fodder." Reimos shook his head. His armour rattled slightly. "This is ridiculous," he repeated.

Rial looked at Reimos, wondering how the lord, who looked so small and weak in his robes and finery, could look so fearsome. The plate armour added a lot of bulk, and with its many spikes and spurs it was almost like going up against a giant porcupine...or a hedgehog, depending on whether or not you feared the man inside. The black paint only added to the dread enemies would feel when looking upon the most warlike man in the entire army.

"What is ridiculous, lord?" Rial asked.

"The fact that these idiots keep attacking us with numerically inferior forces and terrible tactics. That we are fighting this war to begin with. That we are forced to be on the move like this. That you are the leader. That—"

"Excuse me?" Rial asked, raising his eyebrows at the older man. "You object to my leadership of this rebellion?"

"You're damn right I do," Reimos said, fixing him with a fearsome glare that made Rial's breath hitch in his throat just a little. Blood dripped off his mace, splashing in the snow below. "For four days now you have led us into these ambushes. A better leader would have recognised it as being a trap long ago and taken a different route, but you didn't. You know why? Because you're a not a leader, son. Being a leader's a tough job, and something you grow into. Years of experience are what decides a man's success—and you, boy, haven't got it."

"I have led men before," Rial said, feeling his anger building up. How _dare_ the man question his leadership?

"You mean those pretty-boys in the Royal Guard? Hah, I'd rather have children at my back than you. At least the kids can turn on their charm and make the enemy flinch!" Reimos guffawed at this terrible joke. "You've not led men, _general_. You've led boys in shiny armour whose idea of a job well done is one King dead and another captured by a genocidal bastard with a terrible comb-over!"

It was so tempting, for Rial, to slug the man for his affront. But to do would make him no better than common criminals who duked it out in the streets. He turned his own glare on Reimos and gave him a chilling smile.

"I am sorry that you feel that way, Reimos," he said, deliberately not using his title. "Do you know of someone you'd rather have in command?"

"Why, myself, of course," Reimos said, grinning nastily. "I'm the only one whose seniority has any meaning. I have the most men, I have the most supplies, I have—"

"Have you ever been in the military, Reimos?" Rial asked, enjoying the act of not using his title, especially because Reimos' face grew just a little redder every time he didn't. "Have you ever fought under the King's banner?"

Narrowing his eyes with suspicion, Reimos slowly shook his head. "I have not, but—"

"Then your opinion on the matter is irrelevant," Rial said, turning away with a snort of derision. "As far as I'm concerned, we are the true, loyal faction of the Royal Army, and as such we are a military unit. I have finished basic training and have held a commanding position for many years, for the Royal Guards are indeed considered a part of the military. Therefore, as the only general here, despite my young age, I am the most senior officer available. My merits are my affiliation, my rank, and the fact that said rank was bestowed upon me by General Drena Riveth, who up until recently was the highest-ranking commander in the Loyalist army."

"I fail to see why—"

"And as long as you and your men are a part of this army, you fight under my banner, which is again under the King's. You are under my command, and I can have you arrested for insubordination. That will require a court martial, but since we are currently at war, we must dispense with such unpleasantness and jump straight to sentencing—which is _my_ domain. And believe me, Reimos, I have no qualms about having you thrown in the brig if you ever _dare_ to question my position again."

The look on Reimos' face was worth every blustering declaration and threat, Rial decided. The man looked quite impotent with rage.

"Then I shall simply have to take my men back home," Reimos said. "Perhaps Rehm will—"

"You will do no such thing," Rial interrupted. "That will be considered an act of desertion and treated as such—and you know what the sentence is for such an act during wartime, do you not?"

"Is that a threat?" Reimos said dangerously.

"A warning," Rial said simply. "You are an asset, Reimos, truly, but if you intend to act as a rogue element, I must put an end to it immediately."

"Very well, if that is how it will be..." Reimos said, tugging off his armour's right gauntlet, revealing a fine leather glove beneath. In one swift movement, Reimos removed that as well and struck Rial over the face with it. It made a snapping sound that echoed across the small plain they had fought on. By now, every face on the small battlefield was looking at the argument. "I, Lord Reimos, challenge you, Rial Vortan to a duel!" he declared loud enough for everyone to hear.

Flabbergasted by such a childish action, Rial simply stared at the man. "The stakes?" he finally asked, realising that there was no way to get out of the challenge lest he look like a coward, not to mention the fact that such challenges were completely legal and didn't break military procedure. It was a ridiculous practice, and Rial made a note to ask if Victor would be willing to outlaw it when he was back on the throne.

"Leadership of the Loyalists," Reimos declared. "I will see to it that this army is put to better use!"

"And what is that, if I may ask?" Rial said.

"A march on the capital, which we should have embarked upon immediately!" Reimos gave him a nod. "Our talk is done, _general_. My second will contact you with the time and place."

"As the one being challenged, I have certain rights, do I not?" Rial asked. "Such as having the pick of weapons?"

The lord paused, looking back at him expectantly.

"Swords," Rial said. "No shields or armour."

The lord hesitate, but eventually nodded. "Agreed," he said and continued on his way, hefting his mace.

Rial watched him go, the pressure in his chest almost unbearable. Of all the things that could happen, this was the thing he needed the least. Giving the corpse of the man he had just killed a kick fuelled by his anger, he stalked off, ordering everyone to clean up and get rid of the bodies. He regretted the act a few minutes later.

A few hours later, he was sitting in the command tent, poring over reports from his scouts and spies, the challenge all but forgotten due to the depressing news he found in them. The Royal Army was mobilising to the south, conscripting every man that was willing to fight for "The King" and putting hastily produced weapons in their hands and sending them to the frontline. The capital was locked down and currently being fortified against any invading armies that might come skulking towards it. They were no closer to even _start_ marching on the city, much less any of the forts that lay in their way. And he had no idea what to do from here. Sure, they had Jedistern's plan, but that relied on certain factors that were far from certain at the moment.

Perhaps Reimos was right, perhaps he wasn't truly fit for command at this level. His aunt would have turned this situation in their favour in record time in her heyday—but it was obvious that Rial hadn't been gifted with the same military prowess.

The sound of someone clearing their throat brought him out of his reverie, and he turned to see Sid standing in the tent opening. He wordlessly invited the man in and had him sit down in a chair, to which he nodded gratefully, rubbing his knee with a tired sigh.

"I'll never get used ta bein' a cripple," Sid muttered. "Ain't right, a man of my age reduced ta this..."

"Better than being dead though, right?" Rial said, grinning a little.

"Some mornings I wish I were, cap'n," Sid admitted, suddenly looking tired. The skin beneath his eyes was dark, and his beard was dishevelled. "But," he said loudly, as if to dispel the moment of openness, "I'll gladly wait t' keel over till I see tha' bastard Rehm's head on a pike with me own eyes! And we expect th' same from you, cap'n."

"You heard about the duel, huh?" Rial asked, shaking his head.

"Yep," the ex-guard said, rolling his eyes. "And th' whole camp as well." The general groaned, and Sid chuckled. "Was waitin' for one of yet to blow up at each other, cap'n. Glad to say it was Reimos."

"Yeah, well, the last thing we need right now is a schism in the camp," Rial said with a sigh. "Shouldn't have agreed to it."

"If ye'd refused, he'd have cleaved yer head in half on th' spot," Sid said. "Tha's th' way with th' nobles."

"I suppose so," Rial agreed, remembering the look on Reimos' face as they spoke. He was clearly a man prepared to kill someone on principle. "I suppose you aren't here to exchange pleasantries, though. You bring a report?"

Sid nodded. "Aye. My wee spies tell me tha' we've got a nasty little crow in our camp, cawin' our every move and decision to every Royal Army camp in th' vicinity." He adjusted his seat, hissing in badly hidden pain as his knee made a nasty cracking sound that even made Rial wince. "We don't know who he is yet, but we're workin' on it and hope to catch 'em in the act soon."

"I see," Rial said, settling back in his chair. "That would explain all the small ambushes along the road we've been caught in lately. There are hundreds of smaller camps positioned around the country, waiting for us. If the commanding officer sees a chance for glory when he receives messages about our position..."

"...he'll gladly take th' risk and attack immediately," Sid finished.

"But why are said officers so high in rank? Just in the past two days I've killed more colonels than I've ever imagined I'd see, much less lay a hand on."

"Rehm's tryin' to placate those who find his actions strange by promotin' them left and right. I think he's got over a hundred different generals in the army at this point, all of 'em squabblin' about who's got the most power. Ridiculous."

"So, Rehm's in danger of losing control of the army?"

"I'd say so. His decision t' attack th' Silver Guard was _not_ popular."

Rial rubbed his eyes, suddenly feeling very tired. Things were definitely spiralling out of control on both sides. Rehm hadn't been prepared to fight a war like this and was forced to keep his eyes on multiple fronts at the same time.

"Let's hope he loses _that_ battle, then," he said. "The Silver Guard are the very elite of our fighters—surely if there's anyone who can defeat Rehm, it's them."

"Aye, but they're currently trapped in tha' castle of theirs, under siege. And with _Th' Chimera's_ movin' in on 'em..."

"Gods, I hate that fucking airship," Rial groaned.

"Good thing we're destroyin' it soon, then," Sid said.

"As soon as we receive confirmation on the Sheikah's success in Ironhill, we'll make our move," Rial said. "Hopefully, Tadian's plan will work."

"He's probably th' smartest man in th' camp, cap'n. It'll work."

"I'm not a captain anymore, you know," Rial said with a little grin. "I'm a general."

"Yep, but ye'll always be the cap'n to _me_ , cap'n," Sid said with a little wink, standing up and resting all his weight on his cane. "Well, that was all I had t' report, cap'n. I'll keep workin' on catching our wee crow and report back when I've got 'im."

"Excellent, thank you," Rial said, shaking Sid's hand. "You've no idea how much of a comfort your presence here is, my friend."

"Aw, ye're gonna make me blush, cap'n," Sid said, grinning. "Let's keep tha' sentimental bullshit on the backburner until we've won, yeah?"

"Sure," Rial said, feeling a little foolish.

"Not tha' it ain't appreciated, though," the spy added on his way. "Oh, and by th' way, th' Hero's lookin' mighty antsy these days. Might wanna have a talk with 'im."

"I will," Rial assured him and watched him go. He was right. Link had been acting strangely ever since he'd lost the bet with Iteos, especially after the night of the first ambush. He didn't know the exact details of their wager, but it was quite easy to guess what they were, based on the knight's reputation, behaviour and general...being. That was why Rial had warned the Hero the way he had. Whatever he did, if his lover found out...well, how did the saying go, again? Hell hath no fury and so on, only with genders reversed. The only question was who would take the brunt of it—the cheater or the one who'd forced him? Did that even constitute cheating? It wasn't like Rial was an expert on the subject...

Before he spoke to the Hero and sorted out the clusterfuck that must have come into being thanks to Iteos, he decided to speak to his aunt. She must have heard about the duel by now and he'd rather get the lecture over and done with sooner rather than later.

And a lecture was indeed what he got when he entered the sick tent, but not from whom he expected.

"Of all the irresponsible...just how do you expect this war to be waged in any decent manner if the leaders are killing each other because of petty issues?" Agneta demanded to know as she stalked back and forth in front of Riveth's bed. The patient herself was staring at him, not speaking. "Do you have any idea how much worry you're putting my patient through? It can make her condition worse!"

"In my defence, _he_ challenged _me_ ," Rial said, scratching the back of his neck, feeling like a little boy who was being scolded.

"And you accepted it!" Agneta exclaimed. "I thought the world was moving ahead and setting aside those idiotic shows of manliness, testosterone and testing of who's supposedly got the biggest _balls_ , but _no_ , let's have another one of those at a time where it's the _last_ thing we need, why don't you—"

"Agneta, that's enough," Riveth said, waving her hand dismissively. The physician look offended, but nodded and went to see her other patients, apparently too angry to even excuse herself properly. Riveth waved Rial over and had him sit in a chair next to her bed, and fixed him with a stare. "Everything she said, I agree with," she said slowly. She wasn't breathing as heavily as she had before, which Rial hoped was a good sign. Perhaps there was still hope for her to pull through.

"I know," he said, hanging his head slightly. "I don't know what came over me. He questioned my command, insulted my men...the ones who died in the massacre at the castle...I lost my temper. It was stupid, and I do not intend to let it happen again."

"That's all well and good, nephew, but it does not help you with the duel you've already agreed to," Riveth said, rolling her eyes. It was good to hear her speak proper sentences again, even if there was a slightly raspy quality to her voice.

"I know," he admitted.

"You've gambled the command of the army, risky," she continued. "But the terms are good. Swords, no armour. You've the advantage there. The man's old, slowing down. Too slow to protect himself with just a blade. Wise decision."

"Thank you. I figure I will just cut him a bit here and there, leave him with his pride wounded so we can get back to it."

Riveth paused, narrowing her eyes at him. "Nephew, you have to kill him." If it wasn't for the serious tone, he would've thought she was joking.

"Excuse me?" he asked.

"You heard me," she said. "He challenged you to a duel to the death. He won't allow you to leave that ring alive."

"He won't be able to," Rial tried. "He'll be too exhausted to—"

"Then his second will kill you," Riveth interrupted him. "And the rest of his men will endeavour to do the same. This is a matter of honour, nephew. If you want to have yours intact, then Reimos must die."

"Sod honour, I don't need it," he said dismissively.

Riveth gave a barking laugh, which was not a good thing to do as she began to cough, groaning in pain as the bout subsided. "That wasn't smart," she muttered under her breath. "Honour is everything," she continued. "Without it, we are no better than cutthroats and traitors. You were challenged to a duel to the death, and you will be expected, as a gentleman, to uphold the agreement you entered when you accepted the challenge."

"But you—well, Agneta—just said that duels are archaic and stupid, and—"

"And they are, which is why you shouldn't have accepted it, but what's done is done and there's no helping it." She tried to sit up, succeeding with a little help from him. She didn't acknowledge it. "Your ability to command has been questioned. That is an offense which requires swift and brutal retribution. If we were at peace, there would have been a military tribunal to settle this, but there is no time for it. If you allow Reimos to live, it will be the same as saying that dissent, disobedience and insubordination is acceptable in this army, and soon enough you'll be up to your neck in little shits who will think nothing of disrespecting you or the chain of command. There'll be no discipline and ranks will falter and break in the next battle you fight."

His eyes were wide as he stared at her. He really hadn't considered that such consequences could come from something as simple as this. "I...I didn't think...surely this is a worst-case scenario?"

She nodded. "Aye, and that is what you need to be prepared for—and should do your utmost to prevent."

"And the easiest way to do that is to kill Reimos?" he asked.

"Yes," she said simply. "The old coot will have his moment in the sun, and then he will fade into obscurity, forever marked as an honourable, yet misguided man. You will also be remembered as honourable—not to mention as the successful leader of this rebellion. Which is far more than can be said if Reimos were to win leadership of the army. The fool will march it straight south to be annihilated at the gates of the capital."

He shook his head, looking at his boots. "I wish there were another way," he said quietly.

"As do I," she said, taking his in hers and squeezing firmly, as if to prove that her strength wasn't completely gone. "But there is none. I know you will do me proud, nephew."

He left the tent, thoughts swirling in his head as he tried to locate the Hero. He hoped to the gods that this was the last talk he would have to have that day.

* * *

"I'm going to kill him, I'm going to kill him, I'm going to kill him, I'm going to kill him..."

Sheik wanted to groan as he listened to Kafei repeat this mantra again and again, wishing his cousin would shut up. Telling him to hadn't helped, and he'd given up after the twentieth time, knowing that the purple-haired Sheikah was probably going to say it again and again until he actually fulfilled his promise. He just wished he'd do it quietly.

It wasn't like Sheik wasn't angry at Jeryd either—the deception he'd pulled on them was the lowest he'd ever encountered—but the energy Kafei was expending on cursing Jeryd could be put to far better use. Like finding a way to escape from this dungeon, for example.

It wasn't really a dungeon. Those tended to be dark, cold and dank, with moss and fungus growing everywhere and water dripping loudly. But this...this was, all things considered, quite pleasant. It was dark, sure (not that it mattered very much considering Sheik's excellent night vision), but it was neither cold nor dank. The room was quite large, with a wooden floor and solid, heated stone walls. They weren't below ground level, which probably explained the "niceness". Two stone pillars stood in the middle of the room, to which the two Sheikah were chained to by their wrists and ankles, each on different sides of the pillars so they were facing away from each other, each unable to see the other. The chains were just short enough to disallow any sort of movement that could be used to break free.

They had no idea where Elenwe was. She had been taken to a different room, apparently. Perhaps the guild liked to keep their prisoners separated by gender? Whatever the reason was, Sheik was sure that half of the reason for Kafei's anger was the lack of a certain Gerudo.

Based on the weapon racks, this was a training room. Upon further inspection, scores had been gouged into the pillars, probably from errant blades flying everywhere. It didn't explain the presence for the chains, but Sheik had some ideas which made him uncomfortable. At least there weren't any bloodstains around that could confirm his theory.

He tried moving his arms again. No, wouldn't budge. The chains around his ankles were a little longer to allow him to sit comfortably on the floor, but that was about it. They were solid, nowhere near breakable by the force he could generate on his own power. He couldn't reach the tools in his pockets either, but that was a moot point because said tools had been taken away by the assassins after a thorough body search.

 _ **What a lovely situation this is,**_ Speil's voice said. There was a slight echo in it. It was probably because of the seal. _**You, chained up like a wild animal...and me, unable to give you the ravishing you so clearly need and deserve**_.

Sheik wanted to groan out loud, but that'd mean having to explain to Kafei that the shadow as able to speak to him despite the seal now, and that was just another world of trouble he wasn't all that keen on creating. Instead, he quietly shook his head. _What do you want?_ he asked.

_**The previous sentence didn't explain it well enough? All right, I want to f—** _

_Not that!_

_**Hah, it's never**_ **that** _ **,**_ Speil said, almost sounding disappointed. _**There's nothing else, actually. You're stuck, and I'm stuck. In a way, we're both in the same shit.**_

 _But in a different way,_ Sheik thought. _Now please shut up so I can concentrate on escaping._

 _ **Impossible**_ , Speil said with a chuckle. _**And before you ask, yes, I know that's your exact thoughts because, guess what, once again we are sharing a mind. I can read you like an open book, and my, oh my, what an uninteresting book it is. Your thoughts really do revolve around a select group of very boring things, and nothing else. You're very lucky you're cute, or else you'd never find someone interested in you.**_

 _I assume being trapped inside me without being able to interact with anyone has left you grouchy?_ Sheik guessed, noticing that Speil was being particularly cranky and generous with his insults now. _Been stewing, have you?_

 _ **When one is stuck on an imaginary beach with water that undulates with geometric shapes, surrounded by a perpetual fog that terminates in an invisible wall, behind which lies the real world in the shape of pure darkness...then yes, one of the few things one is able to do is stew, and I have become quite good at it.**_ _**At the very least, a book would have been appreciated. But not yours. Yours is boring.**_

 _You've already covered that_ , Sheik said with an inward sigh. _I thought the beach was just something my mind conjured up for when I was trapped within it. I thought it would disappear when I was released._

_**It should have, but it retained its shape after you left, which left me quite befuddled. On one hand, it was nice not to have to return to the state of nothingness to which I am usually condemned, but on the other hand, it is such a dull place...** _

_And now?_

_**I'm still here,**_ Speil said in a voice that bordered on seductive. _**Only this time I can hear your thoughts and catch glimpses of the world through your eyes and ears. That human assassin really pulled one over you, didn't he?**_

 _I don't want to talk about it,_ Sheik thought.

_**Ah, but you do. You just don't want to do it with your cousin, because that would be admitting to having misjudged his character, wouldn't it? And if there is one thing Sheik of the Sheikah, my Pet, does not do, it's make bad judgements. Or, he does, he just refuses to acknowledge it.** _

_I make plenty of bad calls and mistakes,_ Sheik protested. _I'll happily own up to it, even!_

 _ **Then apologise to Kafei and admit your failure...**_ Three beats of silence. _**You cannot do it, can you? You so desperately want to prove him wrong in that it was a mistake to remain with the Sheikah that you're not even willing to admit that Jeryd was a traitor all along and have condemned you to a life of slavery. Tell me, will you tell this to My Light? Will**_ **he** _ **get to know just how badly you have screwed up, yet again?**_

 _I'll happily tell him that you're back so he can kill you again,_ Sheik thought nastily.

_**Changing the subject, a tactic you're very fond of when you know you cannot win the argument. Let me ask you something else—are you going to tell My Light what you and the assassin did that night when you got drunk?** _

_How did you know—_ he stopped himself from thinking it too late. _I thought you were completely deprived of sensory stimulation. How could you possibly know what was happening?_

_**I could still experience the strong emotions you felt that night...and you thought about him and his name so hard that it even echoed through here. Oh dear, My Light won't take very well to the idea of you giving yourself so willingly to someone who turned out to be an enemy, tsk, tsk, tsk...** _

_There were no strong emotions,_ Sheik thought. _Nothing happened—_

 _ **You can lie to yourself, Pet, but you cannot lie to**_ **me** _ **. I felt what you felt that night, and it was none other than pure desire and the ever so tiny buds of love... You were falling for the assassin and you didn't even realise it, did you?**_ The shadow chuckled. _**You are so adorable when you're clueless...I'm surprised you've survived in the cold, harsh world for so long.**_

Sheik hung his head, refusing to even consider the idea. Mostly because he feared they were true. _I really thought he was my friend..._ he finally thought.

_**And he was...until he saw his moment of opportunity to lay a trap for you. It was a masterful piece of deception, that. Worthy of...well, me. Only, I managed to get you to admit your love for me before I so cruelly took your life.** _

_I just don't understand why,_ he continued, ignoring the comment about the night he'd died at the Forest Temple. It was unpleasant enough to have gone through it once—he didn't need to relive it in his thoughts. _After everything he told me...after proclaiming to have so much hate for the guild..._

 _ **Oh, those parts were almost definitely true,**_ Speil said. _**But what were his alternatives? You weren't going to accept him...yet, anyway. And if he betrayed his guild, then he would have nowhere to go, especially not after the war. He hates it, but isn't there a saying that compares ruling in hell to serving in the heavens? Perhaps he thought something similar and decided to use the boon he's bound to receive for capturing you to raise his own position quite high in the guild?**_

_If so, when did he decide this?_

_**When you rejected him, most likely. It's amazing just how irrational one can act when one is turned down in favour of another...** _

The shadow's voice seemed to grow faint towards the end of the sentence, and he said nothing afterwards, indicating that he had perhaps gone dormant again. In a way, Sheik missed the voice, if only because it provided something other than his own thoughts to focus on. And those thoughts all revolved around the same thing— _This is my fault_.

"We have to break out of here," Kafei suddenly said. It was almost strange not to hear a string of expletives following his words.

"Really? And here I thought you were having such a grand time," Sheik said sarcastically. "I can't move far enough to do anything about the chains. You?"

"No," Kafei said after a few seconds of rustling chains. "They're barely long enough to get comfortable without cutting off my circulation."

"I think this is where they have novices kill people in order to graduate," Sheik said, finally giving voice to his theory on the room.

"Why make it comfortable for the targets, then?" Kafei asked.

"Maybe some of the novices take a long time in deciding what to do?"

"Sounds unlikely."

"Yes, well, I thought it unlikely that Jeryd would betray us, but look at what happened," Sheik said quietly, refusing to entertain the thoughts of Speil being right. He could own up to his mistakes, no problem.

"Hah, you've got that right, cousin," Kafei said, snorting. "But let's not waste time on thinking about the cretin. Believe me, there's plenty of time for me to lecture you on that later."

"Turning into Impa, are we?"

Kafei paused. "No," he said after a few seconds. "Never."

 _I hit a nerve,_ Sheik thought. "So, what do we do?" he asked.

"Considering neither of us can do shit in our current state, we'll simply have to wait until someone comes to give us food or something like that," Kafei said. "Hope to get the jump on 'em. How's your ability to break necks with your thighs?"

Sheik rolled his eyes. "An oddly specific question, isn't it?"

"Unless they untie our wrists, I can't think of another way to surprise them."

"You don't think they'll account for that?"

"Hey, you've got a better idea; I'd love to hear it."

"Eugh..."

* * *

Elenwe was uncomfortable. She was also livid, especially at Jeryd. But what ticker her off the most was the fact that she was alone. It was one thing to be betrayed like this, but _this_ was _really_ pushing it!

After they had been taken away from the small room leading to the sewers, she had quickly been separated from Sheik and Kafei and led down a different hallway than them. They twisted and turned and she quickly lost her orientation. They had led her into a small, dark chamber and tied her to a low, jointed table with manacles and complicated-looking machinery underneath it, securing her firmly before leaving her alone, but not before shutting off the gaslights. The second the door had slammed shut, it had gone pitch black. It was a pathetic attempt at scaring her—darkness had never been one of her fears.

No, what annoyed her about it was the fact that she'd been left alone to stew in her thoughts, with no one to vent them at. She _hated_ that, not being able to release her frustration in a verbal torrent that'd drown her poor listener.

She was worried about Sheik and Kafei as well, but she knew how well those two could handle themselves and quickly pushed it down, focusing on her own situation instead.

It was all too obvious that there was going to be some sort of interrogation. They'd just chain her to the wall otherwise. She didn't fear that. She was quite used to being interrogated, not to mention using her natural charm to get out of it. Somehow, it was always the interrogator who ended up spilling his guts, both figuratively and literally—she never took kindly to being questioned in such ways.

She'd just have to take control of the situation as soon as she could. Men were so easy to trick, after all.

Barely an hour after she had been left in there the gaslights in the room came back on. It blinded her momentarily, her eyes having gotten used to the darkness. The door slammed open, blinding her further, but not so that she didn't spot two shapes quickly moving into the room. One of them was limping, using a cane to support themselves. The other was carrying a bag of some sort, which they quickly put on the floor before closing the door behind them.

Two of them, huh? She thought. Easy pickings.

"All right, whatever you're going to do, make it quick, yeah?" she said with a drawl, knowing that showing such nonchalance towards impending torture would unnerve her interrogators. "I have more important things to think about, such as what I'm going to do to a certain traitor when I get out of here."

When neither of them replied, she grinned. The strong and silent ones were her favourite. They always took a little while to crack, but when they did it was _glorious_. They usually didn't have many weaknesses, but they were really _weaknesses_. Push and prod incessantly at them, and it was like releasing floodgates. She'd lost count of how many she'd broken down over the years—it was always _such fun_!

"So, which one is the good guy and which is the bad guy?" she asked, narrowing her eyes in an attempt to make them grow accustomed to the light a bit quicker. "I have to warn you, I can get pretty _bad_ myself when the mood strikes me—what, hey!" She was interrupted when one of them quickly put a blindfold on her. Then part of the table began to rise as someone manipulated the wheels underneath, making her sit up in a most uncomfortable way. "Ooooh," she said, not skipping a beat with her routine, "I like this. Must very useful for funny business, eh?" she let her voice drop low towards the last part, hoping her voice was realistically seductive. It _had_ been a while since she'd done this, after all.

When neither of her interrogators replied, she knew she might have a spot of trouble with them. Even the strong, silent ones began to speak at this point, either outlining the terrible things they'd do to her or telling her to be silent as they prepared, but these two...they just went about their preparations without a single word or sound. She heard their footsteps pacing around the room, the knock of the cripple's cane hovering around her at all times, while the other one was apparently unpacking their mixed bag of sure to be fun tools and things.

"So, tell me," she continued, suddenly feeling unsure. This wasn't how things usually went. "Are you assassins, or external contractors? Because I can tell you that contractors can't be trusted at all—no offense if you are, of course—"

She paused. The cripple had stopped right behind her and was leaning in close, feeling their hot breath on her ear.

"Haven't heard you say so many words in such a short time before, little Elenwe," said a female voice. "I must say, it is quite beautiful. It will be a pity to have to rip out your vocal chords."

A female interrogator, then? Elenwe thought. That was new. She wasn't entirely sure how to approach the situation. Sure, she had experience seducing women, but her skill at pinpointing their sore spots and nerves was less abundant than what she had with men. Perhaps she was...

Then it struck her. The voice. She knew it. Cold sweat immediately began to bead on her forehead.

"Ah, you recognise my voice, then," Aina said, chuckling to herself. "I was beginning to worry."

"I thought you were dead," Elenwe hissed, remembering Countess Marlotta's scary bodyguard and matron of her mansion. The one she'd shot while helping Link escape from the Countess' clutches.

"Oh, I was convinced of that myself until I woke up in Grim's care. It's amazing how much a master torturer would know about _healing_ someone, isn't it? Oh, I apologise, you haven't been introduced. Elenwe, meet Grim. Grim, this is Elenwe. Say hello."

Elenwe said nothing, refusing to play along. She allowed herself a smirk. She might be a little out of her depth with Aina, but she was sure she'd have the woman snared around her little finger soon enough. It was just a matter of t—

She gave a surprised and pained growl as Aina grabbed her hand and twisted the wrist downwards—not hard enough to break it, but definitely enough to make it painful.

"I said, 'say hello', didn't I?" Aina said quietly and dangerously. When Elenwe still didn't say anything, she sighed. "I was hoping we wouldn't have to start so soon, but you give me no choice," she said and snapped Elenwe's wrist as if it was a dry branch.

Now Elenwe screamed, the pain of the bone breaking catching her off-guard just as much as the callous way Aina had done it. The shock of it ran all the way along her arm. She gasped, breathing hard.

"Are we going to play nice?" Aina asked sweetly.

"H-hello," Elenwe said, relieved as Aina gave a pleased sound and let go of her wrist. She gasped again when she tried to move her arm so she could cradle the wounded limb to herself. The manacle didn't budge, and all she did was give the wrist a good tug instead, which sent a lightning bolt of pain shooting through her whole body.

"Hello, miss," a man—Grim, presumably—said playfully. "Heard a lot about you. Will be a pleasure to turn you into a masterpiece."

"Masterpiece?" Elenwe muttered.

"Grim is a master torturer," Aina explained, suddenly standing in front of her...or so it seemed by the direction her voice came from. "But he's also a bit of a nutter, and there's nothing he loves more than to...find new ways of manipulating bodies into works of art, or so he says. Your flesh is his canvas, apparently."

The description made Elenwe's blood run cold, and her heart began to beat a bit faster. She knew it was just an attempt to scare her into divulging information, but...it was still scary.

"What do you want?" she asked, trying to ignore the fact that someone was touching her broken wrist, as if they were imagining it. Grim, apparently.

"Want?" Aina asked, still standing in front of her. "What do you think?"

"Information," Elenwe said. "On the resistance..."

"On that rabble in the woods? Hah, we're keeping tabs on them even as we speak, my dear Elenwe. There's nothing you tell me about them that we don't already know."

"...information on the airships and how we blew them up, then," she tried again. "How to prevent us doing it again."

"Then why would we allow you to do it once to begin with?"

Now Elenwe was stumped. If Aina didn't want information on the resistance or the airships, what could they...

"The Sheikah?" she asked.

"What about them?" Aina said.

"What do you want to know?"

"I really couldn't care less about them," Aina said, sounding bored. "Besides, there are others who will pump them for information on their pathetic little clan. Malcolm's too much of sentimental fool if you ask me—we don't need the Sheikah to work out our own little traditions. So that's a no, Elenwe."

"Then what do you want?" Elenwe roared.

"Certainly not information," Aina said, moving stand beside her again, leaning close. "You're worthless to the guild, unlike your Sheikah friends. You were actually going to be killed when they captured you, but I made a little plea with the master, and he agreed to give me to you."

"Why?" she asked, dreading the answer.

"You crippled me, Elenwe," Aina said slowly. "You ruined my career and made a fool of me in front of the other assassins. Everything I have worked for so far, you destroyed with a single crossbow belt to my chest. I am practically useless as an assassin now, and the only reason the master hasn't had me killed yet is because of my years of faithful service to the guild. I have never been so humiliated, and I intend to pay you back tenfold for what you have done to me."

"H-how?"

"By making you feel every bit of pain I have, and more so. I'm going to let Grim have his way with your body. And in the end, maybe, _maybe_ I will put an end to it. Of perhaps I will let the other assassins have their way with you first. You're quite an exotic beauty, after all. That's how you ingratiated yourself with the Countess. She never could resist the cute and unknown..."

The blindfold was ripped away, and Elenwe blinked in surprise as she found Aina's face inches from her own, her eyes filled with maniacal glee.

"I'll leave you in Grim's hands now," she said, walking away and sitting down in a chair in the corner. "And I will enjoy watching every second of it. She's all yours." She directed the last part to Grim, who was still touching and prodding Elenwe's broken wrist. It was red and swollen already.

The man looked insane. Barely a hair on his head, the few strands left lying across his grotesquely shaped skull in a vain attempt to cover it up. His face was covered in acne and scars from previous pimples, his teeth a mess of brown and sickening yellow bits sticking out of his gums. One of his eyes was missing, the other a deep black with practically no white to be seen anywhere. His nose had apparently been broken and set more than once, and none-too-skilfully by the look of it. There was a glint to his remaining eye as he seemingly admired the swollen skin and enjoyed the small hisses Elenwe made as he prodded at the joint.

"Such a clean break," he muttered. "You are an artist, mistress matron."

"Just mistress, Grim," Aina said with an annoyed sound.

"Apologies, mistress," Grim said, and grinned, displaying the results of years and years of dental neglect. "What would you like me to do first?"

"Mmm, I don't know," Aina said as she raked her eyes all over Elenwe's form. "There's so much to choose from..." Her eyes landed on Elenwe's fingernails, which she had tried to keep in somewhat decent shape. "Ah, I know," Aina said with a grin. "Pull out her nails, Grim. One by one, and slowly. I want it to _hurt_."

"Yes, mistress," Grim said and went to fetch his tools. "Not that it'd be pleasant either way, but—"

"No commentary, please," Aina interrupted him. "I only want to hear one thing: her screams."

Elenwe stared back at her, feeling like she was dreaming. This couldn't be true. Aina was going to torture her just for the heck of it? All because of...well, she had good reason, but surely no one was _that_ cruel? Her mind raced, desperately trying to think of a way to get her out of this situation with just the broken wrist as a testament to it. Surely there was _something_ Aina wanted besides...this?

"I'll tell you anything," she said, feeling like a fool. She was a veteran of a thousand interrogations, it felt like, always coming out on top, but...she'd never just been _tortured_ before! Grim was once again at her side and was holding a pair of pliers. He clamped it firmly down on the nail of her thumb, and she felt panic rising in her chest.

"There's only one thing I want to know," Aina said, shrugging. "And that's how painful it is." She gave Grim a nod.

Elenwe's next words were interrupted by the scream that erupted from her throat as Grim began to pull.

This was only the beginning.

* * *

**Soul Remnants  
Chapter 54**

* * *

The silence was the worst part. Ever since he'd been thrown into one of the old novice rooms, he'd felt like he was deaf. Six hours of nothing but silence. The noise insulation was one of the strategies the guild had developed to discourage bonding between the different age groups. They never heard each other, they rarely saw each other. It wouldn't do for children of different ages to form friendships; it would only lead to a failure in discipline.

Not that it had stopped Jeryd from getting to know both Lezal and Lor...though, in hindsight, he bitterly regretted the former. How could he have been so stupid, thinking that Lezal wouldn't remain loyal to the guild? It wasn't like he had ever shown any sign of rebelling against his masters, even if he had defied the orders not to bond with the younger assassins. Then again, Lezal _had_ gotten something out of it...

What did you get out of this, Lez? he wondered. A promotion? A big bonus? Lezal wasn't a particularly complicated man. He preferred simple pleasures, usually of the flesh. Perhaps he'd been promised...no, he couldn't even finish the thought. It was nauseating. He'd rather fall on a sword. How he wished to have the older man in the room with him now, his hands around his throat, squeezing...

The fact that Lezal had betrayed him wasn't the thing he hated the most about the situation, however. It was the fact that Lezal had made Sheik and the others think that it was actually _Jeryd_ who'd planned it. He'd seen the glee on Lezal's face as he spoke, knowing he was destroying the struggling friendship between him and the Sheikah and Elenwe. But why? Because Lezal was one of nature's arseholes, for one. Gods...he couldn't even imagine how his companions must have felt at that moment. He'd seen it on Sheik's face—anger, betrayal, hurt...sadness, even. He didn't understand the last one, but...

He growled to himself and went for the door, trying to turn the knob. It didn't budge. If he'd had a set of lock picks, he'd be out of the room in minutes, but there was surely a guard waiting on the other side. Or several, depending on how paranoid the master felt about keeping him locked up like this. Sighing, he trudged over to one of the bunk beds, sitting down on the hard straw mattress. He felt around beneath the sheets. The two bulges were still there. At least that was something. He'd struggled as hard as he could against his captors, and they'd been so hard-pressed to disarm him that they'd simply gone after his blades before throwing him in here. They'd completely missed the two bombs he'd stolen from the airship. When the guards had returned in force to hold him down and properly disarm him, he'd long since hidden the explosives in the bed, which they'd neglected to search. Sloppy, sloppy...

He grinned. Oh, they were in for a surprise, all right...

Voices outside the door. He stood up, moving to another bed to minimise any suspicion. The lock clicked loudly as the door was unlocked and swung open. The master strode inside, flanked by two of his fearsome bodyguards. He had a satisfied smirk on his face, which Jeryd answered with a scowl.

"Oh, come now, Jeryd," the master said, clicking his tongue disapprovingly. "Surely you should have seen this coming? I was certain you did and the fact that you remained was a blessing to ahead with the plan."

"Really?" Jeryd said, glaring at him. "The fact that I flatly refused your offer in your office wasn't enough to convince you that I wasn't onboard with your _plan_?"

The master shook his head and dismissed his guards, who left the room and closed the door behind them, leaving Jeryd alone with the master. He chuckled.

"Ah, I assumed that refusal was linked to the rather...rough way you let me take you in my office," he said, chuckling a bit louder when he saw Jeryd's eyes open widely at him. "You didn't struggle all that much, did you?" he asked. "You even seemed to enjoy it by the end..."

"Fuck you," Jeryd spat.

"No, that was your role, remember?"

He couldn't control himself as he rose from his seat and marched over to the master, fists raised to deliver a devastating punch to the old man's face. He was stopped by the cold steel that was suddenly at his throat—the master's sword, silently drawn the second he'd gotten to his feet.

"Ah, ah, ah," the master said gently, as if scolding but not really scolding a child. "Temper, temper, Jerry," he said. "I didn't train you to be like this."

"Why? Why did you do this? Why couldn't you just leave us alone?"

"The chance to have real Sheikah in my...collection was a temptation too big to resist, my dear boy," the master said, walking forward, forcing Jeryd to go backwards to avoid the sword cutting into his throat. "You, precious as you are, are simply a bonus. You were my favourite once, but make no mistake in thinking that you are important enough to be worth the trouble. Make another move like that one, and I _will_ kill you. Now sit down."

He was forced to sit on the mattress again, scowling up at the old man, who sheathed his sword. He was definitely past his prime, but the master was still strong and fast enough to kill Jeryd before he could make any attempt to fight or escape.

"Now, I am willing to let bygones be bygones, Jeryd," he continued. "I am not an unreasonable man. You cannot remain an assassin; you have broken too many tenets for that. However, I _can_ let you work in the Cock. You're still young enough to pull in quite a few clients—some of the regulars have been asking for you for years, in fact."

"And what could possibly make you think I'd go back to being a whore?" Jeryd asked, his grip on the sheets tightening. The thought of once again having to service the customers...it made bile rise in his throat.

"Because if you don't, my dear Jeryd, I shall be forced to kill you."

So that was it. An ultimatum.

"Of course, you will need a mark to show you're our property, perhaps a—"

"Tattoo?" Jeryd said, glaring. "Like the one you put on Lor?"

"Lor...? Ah, Lorasi, the mage, of course," the master said after a few seconds of confusion. "Yes, something like that. Though yours won't contain enchantments to contain the wearer's magic, naturally."

Jeryd paused. "Enchantment?"

The master rolled his eyes. "You didn't think I'd be stupid enough to let an untethered _mage_ run around my guild hall, did you? Good grief, Jeryd... The first thing the monster would do would be to burn it all down!"

The master had never been fond of magic, like much of the population of Lumina. Jeryd had actually been surprised that Lor was still alive, as he knew many preferred to kill magical children outright rather than give them a chance to master their powers.

"Magic to stop magic, huh? The hypocrisy is staggering," Jeryd said, mirroring the master with a roll of his eyes. "Then again, that's not new, coming from you..."

The slap came as fast and surprising as always, and it made his cheek feel like it was on fire. He didn't budge, however, refusing to even acknowledge it, staring at the old man.

"Watch your tongue, boy," he said darkly. "We hired a foreign mage to come and do it. I didn't really understand how he did, but the ink on that boy's cheek...powerful suppressor, apparently. He was quite happy to do it, too, even after we told him what we were going to use it for. He wasn't quite so happy when I cut his throat, of course, but I like to think the disappointment only lasted a moment before he lost consciousness and died."

"Risky, if his friends begin to miss him," Jeryd said, trying to find ways to surprise the old man, but finding none.

"Ah, we took that into account and had them eliminated too. Took us a while to track them all down, and some of them put up wicked fights, but even they fell in the end."

"You're a monster," Jeryd said, certain that no other word could describe the man in front of him.

"Never claimed not to be," the master said, shrugging. "That's probably why I had no qualms handing the Gerudo over to Aina and her...rather ill-groomed friend. I'm sure they'll have their fun with her before killing her. I've no use for trash like her."

"Bad idea," Jeryd said, grinning when his mind was suddenly filled with the many things, none of them good, that Kafei would do to the master once he found out. "If you think it's going to be difficult keeping the Sheikah contained, killing the girlfriend of one of them isn't going to help."

"We already have them quite contained, and they will remain so," the master assured him, turning around and heading for the door. "So, back to my original point. You have two choices, Jeryd. You can remain at the Cock and spend the rest of your miserable existence making yourself useful to the guild, or you can die in this room."

"I'm sure there's a third option," Jeryd said.

"And what would that be?" the master asked, looking amused.

"Kill you and every single one of your whores and burn this place to the ground." He put as much venom as he could in his voice as he spoke, fixing him with his most penetrating stare. "And dance on the ashes."

The master's amusement disappeared like a flash, but he did nothing but sigh. "It saddens me to think you would be willing to do such a horrible thing to the one who took you in when you were but a child condemned to die on the streets. But no, you will not have a chance to pick that third option. I will give you some time to consider the other two and will return shortly. I expect an answer."

The door slammed shut, leaving Jeryd alone and miserable. What could he do? Armed guards outside the door, no windows to break out of in the room, no chimney to climb up... He stood up and paced around on the floor, trying to figure something out. He pulled out the explosives, weighing them in his hand. They would make a pair of pretty big bangs, he figured. There was a gaslight on the wall, providing the room with light. Break the glass, light the fuse...bound to eliminate the door guards...probably the door as well. But it would probably kill _him_ in the blast too, and that was no good if he was going to have any hope of getting Sheik and the others out. And if Aina's reputation was anything to judge by, he didn't have much time. Or, more correctly, _Elenwe_ didn't have much time.

He supposed he could try to move the bunk beds and somehow create a barrier between him and the explosion, hoping the flimsy wooden constructions and mattresses would protect him from the blast. But that was still more risky than he liked, and the sound of him moving the beds would surely attract attention from the outside...

There was another knock on the door. Was the master back already? He quickly grabbed one of the bombs and moved towards the gaslight, preparing to smash it open. If he was going to die, he was damn well taking the master with him. That way, at least he'd do _some_ good. He realised halfway through his train of thought that it was strange for one who'd had such a strong desire to die just weeks before was suddenly worried about his life, but he ignored it. He had a higher purpose for the moment—to rescue the others.

The door opened, but someone entirely different came through the door.

"Lor?" Jeryd asked incredulously.

Lor spotted him and smiled, closing the door behind him. The lock snapped shut. "I heard about what happened..." he began.

"How much?" Jeryd said.

"Enough to know that you're in big trouble," the boy said, looking sad. "They said the master's going to kill you!"

"Not if I choose to come back to work here," Jeryd said miserably, gesturing around him. "Only not as an assassin. Just as..."

"...a whore," Lor finished for him, shaking his head.

"Yeah..." They stood in silence for a moment, staring at each other. "What are you doing here?" he asked.

"Officially, I'm here for a last goodbye," Lor said, moving closer to Jeryd, swaying his hips slightly. The motion only made Jeryd uncomfortable. It wasn't right for someone like Lor to move like that, voluntarily or otherwise. "The guards let me in when I said we used to be lovers," he continued, lowering his voice. "And that I wanted one last..." he trailed off, not finishing the sentence.

"And...unofficially?" Jeryd asked, feeling like backing into the corner, but standing his ground.

"Unofficially..." Lor said, wrapping his arms around Jeryd and beginning to fiddle with the back of his shirt, one hand finding Jeryd's. "I'm here to give you this," he said as something heavy slipped into Jeryd's hand. A dagger. A small one, but sharp as a razorblade. Jeryd looked up in surprise as Lor suddenly detached himself from him, holding up his other hand to reveal another, identical blade. "And help you escape," he said quietly.

"W-wha...?" Jeryd said incredulously. Did the boy have any idea the repercussions this action would have if they failed?

"You heard me," Lor said, just as quietly. He looked worriedly at the door and made a louder-than-necessary moan. "Have to play it up for the guards," he explained and motioned Jeryd towards the corner farthest away from the door. He joined him soon after. "I've managed to find out where they took the Sheikah," he whispered.

"Where?" Jeryd asked, excitement building in his chest.

"One of the sparring rooms, or so I heard. The eastern one."

"And Elenwe?"

Lor sadly shook his head. "I don't know for sure, but I think they took her to the basement. An assassin named Aina is here, and—"

"I know," Jeryd said. "She has a score to settle with Elenwe, apparently."

"Then we've no time to lose," Lor said, making another loud moan, which made Jeryd blush. "Here's the plan: I leave the room, but attack before they lock the door. You shove it open and help me. There's only four guards, I think I'll be able to take at least two of them out before they can react."

Jeryd stared at him for a second, suddenly remembering Lor for the assassin that he was. He certainly hadn't lost his guts. "And then?"

"Then we hurry to the sparring room, free the Sheikah and search for Elenwe before escaping," Lor said.

"...this isn't a very detailed plan, is it?" Jeryd asked.

"No, but there are limits to what we can plan for in a situation like this," Lor admitted.

"You could die..."

"I'd rather die trying to escape this place than stay here for another day," the boy said firmly. "I've had enough."

Jeryd nodded. "All right, then. Thank you."

"Thank _you_ for coming back," Lor said quietly, smiling at him. "Now, let's start."

"Already? I thought the guards were supposed to think we were...you know..."

"Oh, I always make my clients finish quickly," Lor said with a wink and heading for the door. He hid his dagger up the sleeve of his shirt and knocked on the door. "It's me," he said. The door was unlocked and opened. Jeryd crept closer to it as it slowly began to slide closed, waiting...

There was a muffled gasp and gurgle, and he leaped to action, slammed into the portal with his shoulder, throwing it open and crashing into the guard standing beside it. One of the assassins was already sliding to the floor, his hand clutching his throat, which had been opened almost from ear to ear. The young boy was already dealing with a second guard, his dagger deeply embedded in the man's eye. Jeryd wasted no time himself, stabbing the guard just beside him in the throat with a reverse grip on his weapon, pulling it towards him to do as much damage to the man's neck as possible. The guard who'd had the door slam into him was dealt with in a similar manner.

Six seconds, or thereabouts. That was all he and Lor had needed to kill four people. He'd forgotten how effective the mage had been when he was younger. He could only guess how much he'd improved before his final exam...

"Let's go, it won't be long before someone finds this mess," Lor said, taking one of the guards' long knives.

"Hang on," Jeryd said, hurrying back inside the room to fetch the explosives.

"What're those?" Lor asked.

"Surprise elements," Jeryd replied. "Let's free the Sheikah!"

* * *

"Any luck?" Sheik asked, feeling blood running from his wrists. His repeated attempts to pull at his chains in an attempt to find a weakness and made the cuffs cut into the skin. It didn't deter him, though. It only made him try harder.

"No," Kafei replied after a few strained grunts. "They really didn't take any chances with this."

"And no one's come to feed us either," Sheik said. "No chances to break their necks."

"Hate to say it, cousin, but I've no idea how to get out of this," Kafei said after a few minutes.

"Well, I'm not exactly a never-ending fountain of ideas either," Sheik said. _If only Link were here with his hammer...that'd take care of these chains. Or just the Master Sword—that thing will cut through anything._ He waited for the inevitable sarcastic comments from the shadow, but he seemed to have gone dormant or something. _What, nothing?_

"Wait, do you hear that?" Kafei suddenly said. "Footsteps."

"Coming closer," Sheik said after picking up on them as well.

There was the sound of a brief but violent struggle on the other side of the main doors. Then they heard hurried whispering before the jangling of keys signalled that something either wonderful or disastrous was about to happen. The lock clicked and the doors were slid open. Sheik faced them and was briefly blinded by the light coming from the corridor beyond. A figure approached.

"Master Sheikah? It's me, Lor," a quiet voice said. "I'm here to help you."

"Lor?" Sheik asked. It took a moment for the name to find a face in his mind's eye, and smiled when he made the connection. "I don't understand..."

"Jeryd's here too," Lor said, kneeling down and beginning to fumble with Sheik's cuffs, trying to find the right key on a pretty massive chain. Sheik squinted towards the door and noticed someone pulling the dead guards' bodies inside the room. The figure had a large back slung across one shoulder.

"Jeryd! I'll kill that bastard!" Kafei growled, thankfully keeping his voice quiet.

"Please, I didn't have anything to do with this," Jeryd's voice said, sounding apologetic. "We were all fooled by the master."

"Hah, like we'd believe that," Kafei guffawed. "Oldest trick in the book—"

"It's actually true," Lor said, finally finding the right key and unlocking the cuff around Sheik's left wrist. He hissed upon seeing the torn skin beneath. "Otherwise he wouldn't be here, would he?" he asked, looking Sheik in the eyes. Sheik stared back, looking for a single hint of a lie. There was none...but then, there hadn't been in Jeryd's either, had there?

"Sheik, Kafei," Jeryd said as he slid the doors closed after pulling the bodies inside. "I know you both hate my guts right now and think I've betrayed you—but I swear on my wretched life that I had nothing to do with it. It was all Lezal and the master."

 _He certainly sounds genuine enough,_ Sheik thought, unable to ignore the fact that they were probably both very accomplished liars, considering their upbringing. _But he's right...why would they be killing guards and unlocking our chains if it's all a trick?_

Lor paused, the key hanging above the lock to the second cuff, staring at Sheik. "Do we have your word that you won't attack us when we free you?" he asked.

 _Smart kid,_ Sheik thought. _They are certainly our best—if not only—ticket out of here._ "Yes, you have our word," he said, nodding.

"What? How can—"

" _You have our word_ ," Sheik repeated firmly, hoping Kafei would take the damn hint. "Kafei, I'll leave you here to rot if you don't agree."

"All right, all right, fine, you have my word as well," Kafei in exasperation, clearly not happy. "But _one_ sign that you're betraying us agai— _one_ sign, and you're both dead!"

"No worries," Lor said with a smile, unlocking Sheik's remaining cuffs and handing him the keys before going to help Jeryd keep a lookout.

Sheik went over to Kafei and released him from his bonds. The purple-haired Sheikah was quivering, though he had no idea whether it was with anger or excitement. Probably a bit of both. "Remember, Jeryd and Lor are allies," he whispered to his cousin.

"For now," Kafei replied, standing up and popping his joints.

"Weapons over here," Jeryd said, waving them over. "Most of your equipment has probably been scattered all over the building, but we found Sheik's swords and Elenwe's crossbow. The armoury wasn't even locked, the stupid bastards didn't expect us to escape, it seems."

"Speaking of which, where the hell have you been?" Sheik asked, strapping the swords Kafei had had made for him to his back.

"I was imprisoned myself," Jeryd said, looking at his feet, suddenly finding them very riveting, it seems.

"And was going to be killed if he didn't agree to come back to the guild," Lor elaborated. "I decided neither option was acceptable and intervened." His voice left no room for doubt.

"Where's Elenwe?" Kafei asked, ignoring the assassin's plight.

"We're not sure, but we think she's been taken to the basement," Jeryd said.

"Why there?" the oldest Sheikah demanded.

"Interrogation," he replied, deciding not to use the word 'torture', which he suspected Aina was in the middle of.

"Then let's go," Kafei all-but shouted and tore the door open. "Which way?"

The progress towards the basement was slow. No one had discovered any bodies yet, but that didn't mean the corridors weren't patrolled. More than once they'd had to duck into alcoves and random rooms to avoid assassins roaming the halls. Most of them were young men and women around Kafei and Jeryd's age, though some were as young as Lor.

They reached the staircase and made their way down. One guard emerged from a door, but Jeryd quickly knocked him out with a flying kick from the landing. Just to be safe, he cut his throat, knowing it was a cowardly act, but necessary.

They heard Elenwe's screams long before they found the door to the torture room.

"What the fuck are they doing to her?" Kafei said, moving to break it down. He snarled when Sheik pulled him back, shaking his head. "What are you doing?"

"Don't be stupid about this," Sheik reminded him. "We can't just go charging in without a plan—what if there are more guards in there?"

"Lor and I will take the left side, you will take the right," Jeryd said, standing by the door. "We go in hard and fast, give them no time to realise what's happening."

Another blood-curdling scream cut off any argument from Kafei, and they piled up on either side of the door. Sheik gave a signal and Jeryd kicked open the door, charging inside with brandished knives, closely followed by the others.

Prepared as they were, they still paused at the sight. The smell of blood and burned flesh hung heavily in the air, making Lor retch. Elenwe was chained to a rack-like mechanical table, currently lying flat with her arms held straight out to her sides. Or what was left of them. Her left arm was gone, cut off just above the elbow. The wound had been cauterised with a white-hot piece of metal lying in the embers of a dying fire. The torturers had made a start on her right arm as well. The tips of her fingers were gone, the cleaver the male torturer had used lying beside the severed joints on the table. Her face was a mess of cuts and bruises, her right eye practically ruined by a long slash that ran diagonally from her forehead to her chin. Her legs were bruised; one of them looked broken.

Everyone in the room was frozen—Sheik and the others by the shock of Elenwe's state, and the torturers by the sudden intrusion.

Kafei unfroze first, screaming in anger and hurling his knife at the male torturer. It struck him in the throat, and he gave a gurgling scream as he fell on his back, clutching at the weapon. Having thrown his only weapon, the Sheikah grabbed the cleaver from the table and went after the female torturer, Aina.

"I'll kill you!" Kafei roared, lunging at her.

Aina dodged the clumsy, angry strike and twisted the handle of her cane, drawing a delicate-looking blade from its hiding place within the cane. It looked like a rapier, but was even thinner than that. She made an annoyed grunt and swiftly stepped past Kafei, sliding the blade of her sword along his side, cutting through clothing and the skin beneath. The Sheikah didn't even seem to notice, his rage was so great. He whirled around and swung the cleaver in a wide swing, dangerously close to Aina's throat. She tried to step out of the attack's way, but was too slow and was forced to bring up her weapon to block. The pitiful sword snapped in half. The cleaver bit into the stone wall, spraying fragments in all directions.

Aina moved in closely, kicking Kafei in the side where she'd cut him. Even Kafei's anger couldn't let him ignore the blow, and he groaned in pain, stumbling away from her. Aina followed him, apparently ignoring the others in the room. She was limping, favouring one of her legs. She brought up her fists and attempted a fast combo, which Kafei dodged. He nearly stumbled over the now dead body of the male torturer, quickly regaining his footing and retrieving his knife from the dead man's throat. Grinning at Aina, he spoke,

"Any last words?"

"Only that you're too late," Aina said with a smirk. "She'll be dead long before you get out of here."

Those were clearly the wrong words to say as Kafei gave another roar and threw himself at the woman, ignoring her seemingly powerless attacks, stabbing her in the side before grabbing a handful of her hair and smashing her face into the wall once, twice, thrice. He tossed her to the floor and straddled her, stabbing her in the chest several times. Sheik tried to stop him, but he refused to cease, mutilating the dead body until Sheik pulled him away.

"Enough! She's dead!" he yelled into his cousin's ear.

"El...Elenwe," Kafei stuttered, scrambling to his feet, panting heavily. Jeryd was undoing the chains that held the Gerudo down, trying his best not to aggravate her injuries. He reached out, unsure of where he could touch her. "Elenwe, speak to me, please..."

"K...Kafei?" she muttered, one of her eyes opening to focus on him. "You...came..."

"Of course I came," he said, almost laughing in his hysteria.

"What...what..." she tried to say, her hoarse voice giving out.

"What?" he asked, leaning closer.

"What...took you...so long?" she asked. "Bastard..." She tried to grin, but only moaned in pain as the action tore at her split lips.

"I'm sorry...I'll do better next time," Kafei said.

"We've got to move," Lor said from outside the door. The smell in the room had been too much for him. "The alarm bells are sounding. They'll be all over us soon."

Sheik and Kafei exchanged glances. They both knew Elenwe would slow them down, if they could even move her in the state she was in. Kafei's stare told him that it was a burden they'd have to bear with. Sheik didn't protest. Link would've done the same for him, he was sure of it. He looked at Jeryd, who was gently examining Elenwe's hand.

"We'll need to cauterise these," he murmured. "Or she'll bleed out."

"We don't have the time," he replied quietly. "We'll have to do it once we're out of here."

"Let's not waste time, then," Kafei said, ripping off pieces of cloth from Aina's dress and wrapping them around Elenwe's hand, to the Gerudo's pained protests. "I'm sorry, E, but it's necessary. Here, let me help you up."

"I...can't walk..." the Gerudo said quietly. "My leg..."

"There's no need to walk," Kafei said, lifting her as gently as he could, bridal style. "You'll have to escort us," he told all three, his gaze lingering on Jeryd, no doubt holding the human responsible for what had happened to her.

"Where to?" Sheik asked, unable to look at the mutilated Gerudo without feeling a pulsating rage surely similar to his cousin's.

"The front door's useless, as is the back passage," Jeryd said. "They'll be too heavily guarded."

"The tunnels," Lor said.

"We'll be trapped down there," Sheik said, feeling no desire to go back down into that maze.

"No, there's a passage that leads to the main gates. They'll be open at this time. We'll steal some horses from the stables," Lor said. "Trust me, I know the way."

"It's the only plan we've got, Sheik," Jeryd said.

Everyone looked to him for the decision, Sheik realised. He hated it when people did that. He wasn't a leader; he had wanted to be a leader... He sighed, nodding. "All right, the tunnels."

The whole guild hall was on alert now, and several assassins were waiting for them in the corridor. They underestimated their opponents greatly as Sheik, Jeryd and Lor cut their way through them all. Sheik was momentarily surprised by the young boy's skill and precision and the way he did not hesitate to kill his once fellow assassins. Then he remembered how he had been like at that age— _only two years ago,_ he reminded himself—and refocused on the situation.

They reached the stairwell and heard dozens of assassins descending towards them. At least in such cramped quarters their numbers wouldn't count for much. The three surrounded Kafei and Elenwe, forming a protective triangle and were about to hurry past the stairs and down the corridor that led towards the tunnel entrance when Jeryd suddenly stopped.

"What are you doing?" Sheik demanded.

"Slowing them down a bit," the human answered, reaching into his pocket and withdrawing a small, round object that looked suspiciously like... "A bomb?" he asked.

"Correct," Jeryd said, smashing the nearest gaslight and using the suddenly roaring flame to light the fuse. "Fire in the hole!" he shouted and threw the bomb into the stairwell before pushing them forward, into the corridor. The shockwave nearly tossed them to the floor, and the corridor was suddenly filled with smoke, dust and the smell of burning wood. "That ought to keep them occupied!" Jeryd's voice could barely be heard shouting over the ringing in their ears. Sheik could have been wrong, but he was certain that the human was limping as he hounded them along the corridor.

It felt like it took forever to reach the room containing the hatch that led down to the tunnels. Luckily, it was not guarded. They hurried inside the room and threw the door shut.

"It won't take them long to get through that," Lor said as Sheik began turning the wheel of the hatch. It was heavy, and in the end it took both his and Jeryd's combined strength to get it open.

"All right, Kafei first, then Elenwe, then you," Jeryd said, leaving no room for argument as he practically pushed Kafei down the hatch.

"How is she going to climb down the ladder, genius?" Kafei barked at him.

"Carry her over your shoulder, do I have to figure out everything?" the human barked right back, wincing and clutching his side. There was no mistaking the patch of red growing underneath his shirt. Sheik marched over to him and yanked it up, gritting his teeth at what he saw. "Caught me in the explosion," Jeryd said, looking at the small piece of wooden debris sticking out of his side. "It's too far in."

Sheik's heart seemed to skip several beats. _No, no, no...not this...not now!_ He struggled to find anything to say, but Jeryd simply shook his head, giving him a sad smile.

"No happy ending was written for me," he said.

"Jeryd...?" Lor said, having noticed the wound.

"If you don't leave now, you'll never get out of here alive, any of you," Jeryd said, staring pointedly at Kafei. After a moment's hesitation, the oldest Sheikah nodded.

"I'm sorry for not trusting you," he said. He carefully lifted Elenwe over his shoulder and slowly climbed down the hatch.

Sheik, having always prided himself on being able to say the right things at the right times, was at a loss. It couldn't end like this, Jeryd was...Jeryd was supposed to live, and they argue and fight about the kisses and unrequited love and, and...

Jeryd carefully drew him into a hug. "It's for the best," he whispered. "Go to your Hero. He's waiting for you."

Suddenly finding strength, Sheik returned the hug. "Thank you...for everything," he whispered back. "If things were different...then perhaps..."

"They aren't, so don't waste time thinking about it," Jeryd said, pushing him away and towards the hatch. "Now go, go before it's too late." He didn't even look at Sheik as he climbed down.

* * *

Jeryd was dreading this the most. Lorasi's tear-filled eyes watched him as the boy remained rooted to the floor. He could feel his own tearing up as well. There were so many things he'd wanted to say, to do...

"You need to go as well," he told the boy. "They'll need a guide out of the city. Go with them to the rebel camp. There's a mage there...Ard is his name...he can help you..." his voice began cracking, and he cleared his throat.

"I don't want to leave you," Lor said, shaking his head like a stubborn child. "I'm staying."

"No, you're not," Jeryd said, swiftly grabbing him and pushing him towards the hatch. "Unless you want _them_ to die as well, you'll lead them out of here. Please, do this for me."

"No!"

"Lorasi, do as I say!" Jeryd shouted, wincing as the debris in his side shifted inside the wound. He didn't have long at this rate; he was already very dizzy... "Live the life that I never had the chance to, please. Live it for both of us."

"Jer..."

He silenced Lor with a kiss. It was not long or deep, but it certainly made Lor's eyes light up like fireworks. His fingers clung to Jeryd's shirt, and the tears rolled freely once the older assassin pushed him towards the hatch again.

"If things were different..." Jeryd said, trailing off. "Now go."

"I love you," Lor said, sniffing before slowly beginning to climb down. They shared one last, meaningful look before Jeryd closed the hatch and tightened the wheel as hard as he could.

The wound was going to kill him very soon if no one else did, bleeding heavily all over his clothes. He took one of the long knives and jammed it inside the wheel. That would stall anyone trying to open it again, he figured. Then he took one of the torches from the wall and removed the barricade in front of the door, opening it and stepping out into the corridor.

This was where he was going to make his last stand, he decided. The cramped quarters would force the enemy to come at him in threes, max. His vision was swimming, the loss of blood beginning to take its toll on him. He drew a sword he'd taken off a dead guard and prepared himself. Footsteps were approaching the junction, the first of the assassins who'd managed to get past the mess in the staircase. The smoke told Jeryd that it had caught fire. Good, he thought. To hell with it all. The assassin came around the corner, emerging from the smoke, crossbow drawn. His face...it looked familiar...

"Jer," Lezal said, slowly approaching him. "You're a mess."

"Tell me something I don't know," Jeryd said, glaring.

"I don't think there's anything about this situation I could tell you that would surprise you," the older man said, stopping a few paces away. "Didn't imagine you'd end up doing this. Figured you'd either fold like a cheap suit or kill yourself."

"Goes to show how much you know about me," Jeryd said, taking great delight in the fact that he'd surprised Lezal. "But then, I guess I didn't know all that much about you. How could you do this to me? To us?"

"All necessary to put all the pieces in the positions I wanted," Lezal said, taking another step forward.

"What positions?" Jeryd asked suspiciously.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," the older man said casually as he suddenly moved, standing next to Jeryd, but making no move to attack. He turned to face the same direction Jeryd was, towards the direction the enemy would come from. "Who do you think sent Lorasi to get you out?" he asked.

"What?"

"He knew nothing about your situation until I told him. I was planning to get you out of here later, but that bitch Aina started her...procedure too soon." He carefully took the torch from Jeryd's hand and inserted it into an empty sconce beside him. "I had to act, but I was too late, it seems," he said, looking sadly at Jeryd's wound.

"You...you were...on our side?" Jeryd asked. "But...you betrayed—"

"I had to act like I was in on it, or else the master would have suspected something," Lezal said. "He was already mistrustful me by the time you got out of the tunnels. Doing what I did got me back in his good graces...and that's when I killed him."

Jeryd stared at him with wide eyes. "You...you mean...?"

"The master is dead," Lezal confirmed with a nod. "I slit his throat open in his study ten minutes ago, during the commotion when the alarm sounded. He didn't see it coming, the old fool."

Jeryd couldn't believe it. The master was dead...he was really dead... Why didn't it feel better? It was a pyrrhic victory, certainly, but he was certain he'd feel a bit more...elated.

"But...but why?"

"I've always wanted to kill that bugger," Lezal said, grinning. "But...I suppose I was infected by your...dream, at some point or another. I wanted to be free, but I saw no reason to attempt to escape because I had no friends on the outside...and then you came back...and...well, it doesn't matter now," he said after a pause. "You know how I feel about you, Jer."

"I—"

Jeryd's reply was cut off as several assassins emerged from the smoke, having snuck up on them during their conversation. Lezal's crossbow drew first blow, the bolt slamming into the closest assassin's chest, the force of the impact nearly throwing him backwards. There was no time to draw and fire a second time, so he abandoned the crossbow and drew his long, curved sword. As one, both Jeryd and Lezal threw themselves into the melee, cutting and stabbing at their attackers.

Jeryd was dazed and confused, not really understanding why Lezal had gone to such lengths to help...or why he'd even bothered to play the charade to begin with, but happy that his friend was indeed still his friend...even if it was only for a little while.

Enemy after enemy fell to their attacks, but more assassins came to fill the spots of their dead comrades, though they too quickly fell to the deadliest duo the guild could ever have hoped to produce.

But even they had to fall at some point, and Lezal was the first. He'd finished off an enemy by sticking his sword in his chest while he lay on the ground, and was too late to retrieve his weapon when a throwing dagger caught him in the shoulder. A razor-sharp sword quickly separated his head from his body.

Jeryd saw it happen. The expression on Lezal's face was one of surprise. His chest tightened, and he felt a new burst of energy surging through his body. Time slowed down as he tore his way through the crowded corridor towards the one who had killed Lezal, swiftly giving him the same fate. His comrades soon joined him, though they got in several hits on Jeryd as well before falling.

When the last enemy fell, Jeryd was barely able to stand, leaning on his weapon like a crutch. There were enemies approaching, more people to kill, more bodies to stack up in the corridor... But he was so tired, and he couldn't grip his weapon. The sword slipped from his fingers, and staggered his way back to the door, leaning against it while looking at the torch burning brightly on the wall.

"Grand finale," he whispered, reaching into his pocket and grinning.

Jeryd was already dead by the time the next group of assassins reached the door. They never saw the burning fuse.

* * *

Even the ones in the tunnels heard the muffled blast and felt the vibrations that went through the ground.

They all paused, looking back.

Sheik's stomach gave a lurch, and he whispered, "Goodbye, Jeryd..."

* * *

**Soul Remnants  
Chapter 55**

* * *

Rial took several deep breaths, trying to still his wildly beating heart. It did not quiet down, only continued to pulse rapidly, reflecting his nervousness about the upcoming battle. His sword lay upon the table, its simple and unadorned sheath matching the blade within. He stared at it, resting his hands upon the back of his chair, fingers tightly gripping the wood. Soon, he would draw the sword and turn it upon one of his own, a fellow rebel. True, the fellow had brought it upon himself, but the idea was abhorrent to him nonetheless.

"Can't believe it's come to this," he muttered, more of a helpless statement to himself than anyone else. He heard the rustling of clothes behind him, and prepared himself for what was to follow.

"Aye, but there ain't much t'do about it now, is there?" Sid asked, adjusting his position. He was lounging on Rial's bed, which didn't bother the general at all. The not-so-ex-spy glanced over at Angen, who was standing respectfully at the entrance to the command tent, not nearly as relaxed as him. "But I know you two like t' wallow in yer self-pity, so go ahead."

"It's hardly self-pity," Angen argued, giving Sid a pointed glance. "And even if it were, it'd be warranted in this situation, stupid as it is."

"Now tha's somethin' we can agree on," Sid said and sat up, carefully balancing his weight on his good leg as he rose to his feet, grabbing the cane by the nightstand. "Of all th' stupid things to do right now, Reimos went ahead and chose _the_ stupidest one he could've imagined. A duel…pah!"

"And yet," Angen said, shaking his head in dismay, "it's necessary to go through with it now that the gauntlet has been thrown. Or the men will never respect you again."

"It's not right," Rial said, grabbing his sword and tying the belt around his waist. He was wearing simple clothes, no armour. He was hoping to end the fight quickly that way, rather than turning it into a struggle of attrition. "We should be fighting Rehm, not each other. Doesn't he understand that any internal struggles will simply weaken us against our main enemy?"

"I reckon he _does_ know," Sid said, hobbling around in a wide circle, a rather funny-looking action, though Rial recognised it as his new thinking habit. He'd acquired it soon after being told his leg would most likely remain useless for the rest of his life. "But ye know how it is with these nobs—it's all abou' _family_ and _blood_ to them. If you ain't a nob, you ain't a chum, if ye see my meanin'?"

"Even this they manage to turn into a game of politics," Angen said, shaking his head. "All a ploy to increase their own power or eliminate competitors. If Reimos takes command of the army and leads it to victory...his and his family's position will be secured for years."

"It won't be a victory," Rial said, turning to face them while drawing his sword. He did a few practice swings, warming up his muscles in preparation for the coming fight. Onlookers were already gathering outside his tent, their buzzing voices quite audible despite the multiple layers of cloth between them. "Reimos leads the army to the city gates, where they are promptly annihilated by the defenders and _The Chimera_ while they throw themselves uselessly at the walls. No enemy has taken Lumina City yet, and it will remain so until we have our trump card." He paused, and looked at Sid. "Speaking of which, how is that coming along?" he asked.

"Quite well, I'd say," Sid replied. "The trainin's progressin', the men are takin' to it at a record pace. You picked well, cap'n."

"And you? You are learning as well?"

"Tadian's declared me more'n ready for th' task, sir," Sid said assuredly. "Soon as phase one's completed, we'll be ready."

"That's good," Rial said, feeling more than a little relieved. It was one hell of a gamble he was planning, but a necessary one should they secure victory against Rehm sooner rather than later. He grinned sardonically. "Of course, it won't mean a thing if I can't win this duel of mine..."

"Even if ye don't win this fight, cap'n," Sid said, hobbling closer to him, "ye can be assured that the majority won't join Reimos."

"Is that so?" the general asked.

"We've been doing some...scouting," Angen said. "Seems most of the regular army types and household guards are loyal Riveth and you. They've seen what you're capable of and what type of commander you are. It's hell of a lot better than what the nobles are able to field, apparently."

"That's...oddly reassuring," Rial said. "Thought they will still need a commander once I am gone." He looked pointedly at them. "At the moment, there's only two I trust fully enough to do it."

Angen immediately got a panicked look on his face and shook his head fiercely. "Count me out," he said. "I'm not a leader."

Sid grinned. "Neither am I, though ye still saddled me with this scheme..." He looked thoughtful for a moment. "What about Denal's man, Ri-something?"

"Ryger," Rial said, remembering the man. "He seems like a good sort, but he's never actually been in the army. That won't go over well with Riveth's remaining men."

"Who are in the minority these days," Angen reminded him. "And as such, they don't really have that big a say in the matter. Besides, they know your aunt wouldn't trust you to lead them if she didn't think your decisions would be wise."

"Even still...what if the baroness decides to exert some influence over him using her position?" Rial said doubtfully.

"Then make it a condition that he leaves her employ when acceptin' the mantle," Sid suggested. "But, this discussion's moot since ye're not dyin' on us t'day, cap'n. And if ye do, I won't stick around to behold the aftermath." With that, he stalked out of the tent, leaving Angen and Rial alone.

"I don't think he liked discussing the idea of you dying," Angen said after a few seconds. "He's quite loyal to you."

"Almost to a fault," Rial said, sheathing his sword. "And you?" he asked. "Will you stick around if I die today?"

"I don't have anywhere else to go," Angen said with a shrug. "But I have a feeling I'll be sticking to Agneta and the remainder of Riveth's army rather than Reimos' faction." He sighed. "But like Sid said, this discussion is unnecessary since I have no doubts that you will win. You've got every advantage over him. The only thing I'll say about is this: make it dignified. Don't draw it out. Give the old man a fair fight and finish him quickly when the time comes. That is the proper way to end a duel."

The voices outside were growing louder now, and the crowd was undoubtedly growing by the second. Angen went for the tent entrance, pausing to look back at Rial. "I'll go speak to Reimos' second and see how far along the preparations are. I'll call you when it's time."

"All right," Rial said with a nod, and then he was alone. He tried again, vainly, to calm his wild heart, but it refused to obey. He had a bad feeling about the duel, as if everything would go wrong...

"Nervous?"

He jumped at the sudden noise, whirling around and falling into a defensive position, relaxing only when he saw Ard poking his head out from behind the screen separating the bedroom area from the rest of the tent. He looked amused at his reaction, the corners of his mouth twitching slightly. Part of Rial was glad to see the boy smiling for once—he'd been dour and sullen ever since Riveth had fallen ill—but another part was annoyed that he'd been able to sneak up on him. Though, technically, he supposed Ard had been there before him.

"Didn't know you were here," Rial said, clearing his throat in a pathetic attempt to disguise the embarrassment he felt. "Figured you'd be with Drena..."

"Was ordered by Agneta to get some sleep," Ard said, shrugging.

"Didn't figure you for someone who followed orders."

"I do when they come from the right person," Ard said lightly, studying his fingernails.

"And I'm right in assuming that person isn't Agneta?"

"Correct."

"Then why are you here?"

"She started waving a scalpel around," the boy replied, shuddering slightly at the memory.

"She's fond of that, apparently," Rial said, nodding sympathetically. Agneta had done that to him more than once in the evenings when he'd been sitting up with Riveth for too long. "It's a habit she picked up from her teacher, apparently. I don't know about you, but I can do without meeting this Dr. Kaura person..."

"Agreed."

They stood looking at each other awkwardly for a minute before Ard spoke again:

"You never answered my question. Are you nervous?"

"Shouldn't I be?" Rial asked, his nerves starting up again after having a few minutes of calm because of the sheer confusion he sometimes felt when Ard decided to be social. It didn't... _fit_ the boy to be talkative. "I'm about to fight for the future of this rebellion and the kingdom of Lumina. I know Reimos is an old man and long past his prime, but that doesn't change the fact that he _is_ an accomplished warrior and _could_ get a lucky shot in."

Ard nodded, staring intensely at him, making Rial draw slightly back, feeling wary. He hated it when people looked at him. Or, people other than Victor, of course.

"I can help you, if you wish," the mage suddenly said, surprising him.

"What? How?"

"Enchantment," Ard said with a roll of his eyes. "I can give you even more advantages. Make him blind, make him weak, dull his sword...you name it."

For a moment, he was unsure of what to say. It would be dishonourable to accept such help. A duel was supposed to be a true test of strength between two individuals on a level playing field. Man against man, sword against sword, strength against strength. Only one of them left the field alive. To accept help outside help in such a situation would be cowardly.

But...there was much at stake here. The future of a country...if not the world! He'd often heard the phrase 'the end justifies the means' thrown around a lot when it came to dishonouring oneself in order to secure victory, and surely saving the world was the end that justified _all_ means.

Though, such words were often spoken by tyrants and those who never had any honour to begin with, much less a conscience. Rial lacked many qualities he counted as desirable in a good man, but a conscience was something he definitely had, and he knew that asking Ard to help him cheat in the duel would be something weighing down on it for the rest of his life, however long that would be.

Besides, Riveth wasn't dead yet. If there ever was evidence that sheer stubbornness could stall inevitable death, it was her. She'd rally the men and oust Reimos if Rial died. Yes, she would.

So he shook his head, thanking Ard for the offer, but declining it.

The mage simply shrugged and went back behind the screen, dozing off seconds later. It showed how exhausted he really was, and Rial didn't have the heart to wake him up again afterwards. The voices outside were growing louder and more numerous now, and he suspected it was almost time for the fight.

He was right. A few minutes after the conversation with Ard, he heard Angen's voice.

"General! The time is upon us!"

"Ever the dramatic," Rial said, sighing to himself. He drew his sword again, swung it anther few times before returning it to its sheath, taking a deep breath and marching through the tent flaps.

It was like the entire army had turned up to watch the duel. Not so strange, perhaps, given that their fates rested on the outcome of it, but still... A large space had been cleared outside the command tent, the snow removed and a rough circle drawn into the dirt. The crowd stretched on for as far as he could see, and they were fighting, pushing each other in order to avoid being shoved inside the circle.

Reimos was standing inside it together with Angen and who Rial assumed to be Reimos' second. A young man, barely out of his teens, wearing the same outfit as Reimos, only less grand.

His son, Rial thought, surprised that the lord had brought one of his children along to this infernal war.

"General," they greeted him, and Rial shook Reimos' and junior's hands as the volume of the spectators grew painfully loud.

"May the best man win," Reimos said, his tone light and familiar, as if they were merely sitting down to have tea. His son glared at Rial, but said nothing. They separated, and Rial and Angen went to the other side of the circle, establishing corners.

"Gonna be rough, watching his father getting killed like this," Angen said, only loud enough for Rial to hear.

"He seems confident," Rial noted, looking at the relaxed preparations his opponent was doing. His son helped him tie his sword belt around his waist. The elder Reimos drew it, looking just as comfortable with the blade as he did with his usual mace. That was a bit worrying. Rial had picked swords in the belief that he'd be less skilled with the weapon.

"Of course he's confident," Angen said, shrugging. "He's a noble. Divine right, all that. Besides, I think he's got some dirty tricks up his sleeve."

"Won't matter," Rial said, putting on his bravest face. "I'll finish the fight before he'll have a chance to use 'em."

"That's the spirit," Angen laughed and clapped him on the shoulder. "Now let's get this thing over with."

He walked to the centre of the circle, where Reimos' son joined him. The spectators quieted down in order to hear what was going on. Rial looked at them. He could see most of the senior officers from Riveth's initial army, along with most of the noble heads of houses. Riveth herself wasn't there, which wasn't unexpected. The Hero was sitting on a pile of crates some distance away, keeping his eyes firmly trained on him. Rial felt a pang of guilt. He'd been meaning to talk to Link this entire time, but he'd been too occupied with other things. He resolved to have that conversation right after winning this.

"Can there be no reconciliation?" Angen asked, repeating the words that all seconds spoke on occasions like this. It was really his and Reimos' son's roles to attempt to reach some sort of compromise between the duellists, to find some way to abort the duel, but everyone gathered knew that no such thing would happen. So it was a charade more than anything else.

"No, there cannot," the younger Reimos replied. "The duel will go on. Let us check the weapons."

Both Rial and Reimos handed their weapons to the opposite's seconds. They were duly checked and confirmed to be of equal quality and strength, and then handed back to the contestants.

"The weapons are equal," Angen announced. "The duel will commence in five minutes!"

They retreated back to their corners. Rial paced back and forth, feeling annoyed by the smug look on Reimos' face. It was unfair for someone to feel so confident.

"Go cut his 'ead off, cap'n," Sid said, appearing among the spectators on the side. Someone tried to push him back, but he shoved his cane into their stomach. "I've been lookin' forward t' this!"

Perhaps not the most elegant or eloquent way to wish someone luck, but Rial felt a small grin form in his lips at that.

"All right, ten seconds left," Angen said, patting his shoulder. "Best of luck, my friend."

"Thanks."

The ex-innkeeper stepped into the middle of the circle again, calling for the crowd to fall silent once again. "The duellists are ready! This fight to the death will decide who is to be in command of the rebel army!"

"I would just like to say one thing!" Reimos interrupted. Angen looked annoyed, but nodded. "If I am to die on this day, I want to issue one final order to my men: Serve General Vortan as loyally as you would serve me, if he proves to be the better man!"

The nerve, Rial thought. He too issued a similar order to those he _hoped_ were under his command not simply doing what Riveth told them to. Trying to make them both seem like they only had a disagreement in personality, rather than simply loathing each other fully.

"If you are both quite done," Angen said, with the younger Reimos nodding in agreement, "perhaps we can get things underway! The duel will commence once the seconds leave the circle, not a moment before! Understood? Good! Then may the best man win!"

The seconds left, and then Rial and Reimos were alone, staring at each other with swords drawn. They both began to move, slowly circling each other, trying to gauge each other's strengths and weaknesses, speed and skill.

Rial almost grinned. The old man was slow and clumsy; his feet positioned incorrectly for fighting like this. He didn't move fluidly, but stiffly. Clearly, old age was catching up to him. Perhaps he'd been right in his false bravado. Perhaps he _would_ finish this in seconds, perhaps—

Reimos moved forward, much faster than Rial had anticipated and delivered and overhead swing so powerful that, upon blocking it, Rial found his teeth rattling. Pushing back, he put some distance between them again, and found Reimos to be moving as fluidly and assuredly as a man thirty years his junior.

It was all an act, he thought. He may be old in years, but in body...not a chance.

Reimos attacked again, aiming a thrust directly below Rial's ribcage. Rial dodged it, twisting out of the way and swinging his sword at his opponent's side, which was completely unprotected. But Reimos was still fast, quickly parrying the blow. He twisted his grip and slammed the pommel of his sword into Rial's side, following with a shove with his shoulder. Rial stumbled backwards, holding his aching ribs.

Bloody hell, the man's strong as an ox, he thought, realising that he would have to shift his entire strategy around and treat Reimos like any other opponent on the battlefield. That meant fighting dirty. It wouldn't look good to the onlookers, but they hadn't defined any lines to be drawn when it came to technique, so bugger them and their opinions!

"You're stronger than I thought, old man," he said with a grin, assuming a more relaxed position.

"And you're slower than _I_ thought, general," Reimos replied, narrowing his eyes. "I cannot help but feel as if you are playing with me."

"Oh, I was never one to go for speed," Rial said as they began to circle each other again. "Endurance and raw power were always my favourites."

"Oh, I do hope you intend to show it to me before I kill you. Or perhaps you spent it all when you dismembered General Agon."

"Nah, just saving it for this." Rial grinned wider, scratching his boot along the mostly frozen ground. If only he could find some loose... He found a soft spot, and grinned. He stopped moving, forcing Reimos to do the same. They stared at each other, both trying to will the other to attack first. "How does it feel, knowing you've doomed yourself by challenging me like this?" he asked, trying to provoke the older man.

"Doomed? Only to boredom, it seems. Tell me, boy, do you intend to actually fight, or just stand there like a statue?"

"Figured that was more your job. It has certainly seemed to be during the other battles we've fought. Or was that your impression of a pillar of salt? Because I do say, it's rather impressive. Perhaps you can teach m—"

Reimos growled and rushed towards him with another overhead strike, faster than Rial would have time to block.

Rial kicked up dirt and dust from the spot he'd found, satisfied when he saw it hit the noble straight in the face. Reimos stumbled forward, fumbling with his sword. Rial saw his opening and rushed forward, dragging his sword across the noble's stomach. It cut through him like a hot knife through butter. Blood splattered on the ground, and Reimos' sword joined it soon after, the man falling to his knees, eyes weeping from the irritating dust.

Rial was surprised at how quick it was over. While a deep cut like the one he'd just given the old man was undoubtedly fatal, it rarely left the victims as exhausted and powerless as the man before him was now. Perhaps he'd put all his energy in the attacks so that there was nothing left to deal with injuries?

"Heh, felled by a dirty trick," Reimos said bitterly, coughing up blood. "Should've seen it, coming from you."

"We never defined any rules against it," Rial said, defending himself.

"True, we never did, and look where that got me," Reimos said, looking up at him. He'd gone pale, and he was shivering, both from the cold and blood loss. "Well?" he asked. "Get it over with. Give me a quick, painless end."

Rial hesitated. He glanced over at the seconds. Angen was giving him a solemn nod, urging him to finish the job while Reimos' son was staring intently at his father, his face a steely mask. Putting on a brave face in the face of his father's death. Admirable, but hardly something a child should be forced to watch.

It had to be done, or else there would be no respect to be gained from anyone, least of all from himself. He stepped up to Reimos and stood behind him, lifting his sword so the tip was pointing down, aiming at the spot beside his neck, between the shoulder blade and collarbone. One quick thrust down there, all the way through his body, would end it.

"I'm sorry it came to this, Lord Reimos," he said so quietly that only Reimos could hear him. "I promise you, the army is in good hands. Lumina will be free once again."

"I hope so," Reimos said, nodding.

Rial sank his sword between the bones to the hilt. Reimos gave a strangled cry that was cut short. He withdrew his blade, and the lord fell forward, dead before he hit the ground. Blood pooled underneath his body, and the spectators remained quiet until Angen stepped into the circle, checked the body to ensure that he was truly dead and turned to the crowd.

"Lord Reimos is dead! General Rial Vortan is the victor!"

The silence persisted for a few more moments, and then it broke as the crowd began roaring in celebration. Just how many of them were cheering genuinely, Rial didn't know. He looked down at the body at his feet. It had been brutal, the way he'd finished off Reimos. He could have slit his throat or chopped his head off, or even just stabbed him through the chest. But he needed to show his men, _all of them_ , that he meant business. It was unfortunate that Reimos had been forced to be a tool in this display, but at least it had been quick and painless. The heart was the first organ to be destroyed with such a blow, after all.

There was not much time to be had enjoying the limelight. Angen and Sid quickly hounded him back inside the command tent, sheltering him from the roaring crowd.

"So, that's that," Angen said. "Nice win, if a bit unconventional."

"A victory after me own heart," Sid said with a grin.

Rial sank into his chair, dropping his sword on the floor, remembering too late that Ard was slumbering behind the screen. "Eugh," he groaned. "Surely there are easier and less messy ways to win loyalty than this?"

"None that are as effective, I'm afraid," Angen said and picked up the sword. He began to clean it, wrinkling his nose in distaste. "And even this isn't foolproof."

"What do you mean?" Rial asked, looking at him.

"Even after such an order, some of his lordship's men are _still_ goin' to leave," Sid clarified. "Their master, the man who pays 'em their wages, is dead, and that was their entire reason for stayin'. So they're probably packin' their bags already, preparin' t'go home."

"But those aren't the kind of men you want at your back in a war like this anyway, so good riddance," Angen said, obviously trying to reassure the miserable general in the chair. "At the most, a hundred will leave. That leaves thousands still at your command."

"I hope it will be enough," Rial muttered.

"When General Mirn 'n the princess of Hyrule arrive with their men, it'll be, cap'n," Sid said. "Now, get yerself cleaned up and put on yer best outfit. It's party time."

"Party?"

"The victory party," Angen said. "It's customary for the victor of a duel to host a get-together to celebrate."

"Parties," Rial moaned. "No one told me there'd be bloody _parties_!"

* * *

The party was, thankfully, a short affair. Wartime left little time or resources for lavished celebrations, so Rial turned it into a short round of drinks with the most senior officers and most of the nobles and left it at that. Reimos' son hadn't turned up, which was just as well. Rial wasn't sure if he'd be able to look the young man in the eyes.

As the guests left the tent, he seated himself behind his desk, finishing his wine and trying to calm down. He thought winning the duel would settle the uncomfortable nervousness that had taken up residence in him, but it had persisted this entire time, and it still showed no sign of dying down.

Maybe it was the burden of expectation he was feeling. Before, he'd been put in command quite simply out of nowhere and done the job to his best ability. But this time he'd actually _fought_ for the position, as if he craved it. There was subtle difference to it. Maybe he subconsciously thought that everyone expected so much more of him now that he, in a way, showed that he wanted the position and thought himself the best man for it. The best man...well, in a way, he was certain of that. Reimos would have led the army to a devastating defeat, while Rial was trying to keep it alive for long enough to...

Rapidly approaching footsteps alerted him. The guards outside the entrance did their usual routine, asking who it was, etc...

"I'm the Hero of Time!" Link's voice cried out. He sounded out of breath, and very excited.

"Let him in," Rial called out, and soon he found himself confronted with a Hero whose cheeks were red from the cold, shivering. A falcon was perched on his shoulder, and Rial recognised it as the messenger bird Sheik had had with him. He tensed in his chair. "News?" he asked, the nervousness getting even worse now.

Link simply nodded and dumped a piece of paper on the desk. Rial picked it up, hands shaking slightly. This could either be very good news or very bad news. The outcome of the rebellion probably rested on this... He read it. It was short, only a few lines long and hastily scribbled, judging by the crooked and messy letters.

_**Link,** _

_**Sabotage successful. Airships are destroyed.** _

That line made him breathe out in relief. That was a step in the right direction, a big one at that. The next few lines killed the short-lived elation outright.

_**Assassins laid a trap. Jeryd is dead. Elenwe is badly injured, Kafei rode ahead with her.** _

_**-Sheik  
** _

There was nothing else after that. Rial looked at Link.

"That's it?" he asked.

"That's it," Link confirmed, looking anxious.

He leaned back in his chair, gesturing for the Hero to sit down as well, but he declined and began pacing around the tent, his boots knocking loudly against the planks.

"Jeryd's dead..." he muttered. He hadn't really gotten to know the young ex-clerk that well, but he still felt sadness at his passing. He'd been more than useful along with his friends. And it was probably because of him that they'd been able to sabotage the airships to begin with. The rebellion owed him a huge debt for that. "I wonder what happened..."

"Me too," Link said, still pacing. He was so anxious to ride out to meet them, Rial realised. He opened his mouth, but Rial interrupted him before he could make the request.

"No, I can't let you do that," he said, holding up his hands in a defensive gesture when Link's eyes narrowed at him. "You want to make sure they're okay, I understand that, but you have no idea where they're coming from. You could run into a dozen enemy patrols and even miss _them_ outright and get lost out there, and that won't make Sheik very happy, will it?" He expected Link to put up more of a fight, but the teenager simply nodded in defeat, sighing.

The Hero looked exhausted. There were dark rings under his eyes, and he looked ready to fall over a any time. He probably hadn't gotten much sleep. Iteos was probably the reason for that.

He didn't request for the Hero to sit down this time. He stood up and practically forced Link into a chair, pouring him a big cup of wine while he was at it. There wasn't much alcohol in it, watered down as it was, but considering Link's current state, Rial assumed it'd be enough to calm him down, at least.

The falcon, Kaiza, perched herself on the back of the Hero's chair, her eyes glued to Rial at all times, as if it was watching him for any suspicious activities.

"Drink," Rial ordered, smiling slightly when the Hero did indeed take a sip. He took a breath. "I think we need to have a talk, you and I," he said gently. "About a certain...knight."

Link winced at the mention of the word 'knight', and Rial had his suspicion confirmed.

"This bet of yours...what exactly did it entail?" There was no point in pussyfooting around it, he'd decided. He knew the Hero to be an individual who cared little for lies and subterfuge, preferring honesty over everything.

"I'd rather not say," Link said, staring glumly at his cup.

"While I understand that it's unpleasant to reveal details, I don't think your current strategy of keeping everything inside is doing you any good," Rial said, trying to sound kind. He had limited experience with comforting children, but he hoped he'd be able to at least _imitate_ a proper adult this time. "I like to think that we're friends, Link, and I can assure you that anything you tell me won't leave this tent. It won't find its way to the mouths of gossips...or to a certain Sheikah's ears."

Link looked up at him, looking sceptical. "Why? What do you gain from this?"

Rial shrugged. "Not a damn thing. I just don't like seeing people in such emotional turmoil. Whatever happened between you and Iteos...it can't have been good, and I assume you're deathly afraid of Sheik finding out." He leaned against the table, standing right in front of Link, looking at him. "Unburden yourself, if only for a little while. Tell me what happened..."

Link took another sip, falling silent for several minutes. When he spoke, his voice shook, and he kept looking at the floor, clearly ashamed. Tears began to fall during the story, and the Hero was sobbing by the time he'd finished.

Rial dug his nails into the wood of his desk, his teeth grinding against each other as he tried to control his temper.

That bastard...that piece of shit...that fucking arsehole!

If it wasn't guaranteed to cause a political scandal, he would have taken his sword, marched out to Iteos' part of the camp and cleaved that smug head from his shoulders right now. Of all the possible things one could stoop to...the depravities he'd forced Link to be part of...

Granted, Link wasn't entirely without fault in this. He _had_ accepted the bet, after all, but still...

When Link gave another loud sob, he couldn't resist and kneeled down in front of the Hero, drawing him into a tight hug. His anger at Iteos only grew when he felt Link's hands desperately clinging to his clothes.

He held him for several minutes, waiting until Link had stopped shaking and crying before he slowly extracted himself from the embrace. The Hero looked like a mess, his eyes red, face wet with tears and nose running...but he looked relieved, his shoulders not slumping so low, like a great weight had been lifted from them. It must have been such a relief, finally telling this to someone, and Rial was glad Link trusted him enough to talk to him.

"Feel better?" he asked gently.

Link nodded wordlessly.

"Good. It's none of my business whether you tell Sheik or not, but I'm glad you told _someone_ , because I think this was eating away at you, wasn't it?"

Another nod.

Rial smiled at him and refilled his cup. He was hoping to put the Hero to sleep so he could get some proper rest, and between the wine and the crying, it seemed like he was more than ready for bed. He was about to call for Ard to help when he found the young warlock standing next to him, having apparently understood his plan. Link didn't resist when they took him to the cot behind the screen and had him lie down. They were about to leave to give him so privacy when his voice stopped them.

"Rial..."

He went back to the cot. "Yes?"

"When he...when we were..." It was a struggle to say it, even now, and Rial nodded so Link would know he understood what he meant. "He said...someone else was better."

"Is that so?" Rial asked. "I wouldn't take it personal—that man has been involved with so many that I doubt he's able to tell who's who anymore." He tried to be funny about it, but the joke fell flat.

"He had a name," Link continued hesitantly. "V...Victor..."

Rial froze, his mind racing, trying to kill all the implications in the Hero's words, trying to convince him that it was someone else. "S-surely not...?" he tried.

"He said that a king was...a record..."

Link was saying something else, but it fell on deaf ears as Rial slowly stood up, turned around and exited the tent, a deathly grip on his sword.

A king...a king...a king...

There was a great many things Rial was unsure of in this world. There were many things he did not know. But there was one universal truth that became apparent to him the second Link had spoken, _one_ thing that he knew for absolutely certain.

Iteos was a dead man walking.

* * *

**Soul Remnants  
Chapter 56**

* * *

No one bothered him as he stalked through the camp, his eyes narrowed and jaw set, practically seething with rage. He must have looked ready to bite someone's head off, for everyone—from the most senior of officers to lowly of privates—moved out of his way as his long, steady strides took him closer and closer to Sir Iteos' compound. The mercenaries seemed to have a tendency to form their own little "neighbourhoods" whenever they erected their tents, effectively sealing themselves off from the rest of the army. "A way to keep the most dangerous of my men from hurting yours," the knight had claimed when Rial had first confronted with it. Bollocks. Iteos just wanted complete control over who wandered into their turf.

Nothing would stop him from stepping all over it now.

He remembered Link's words, and another wave of frothing, barely controllable rage washed over him, leaving him with a strong desire to inflict the most painful torture he could imagine on the arrogant son of a bitch—and the rest of his band of merry fucking mercenaries too, for that matter. Bunch of murderous bastards, every single one of them. They refused to take prisoners, gutting and beheading whoever tried to surrender to them and then, as if to cross some sort of threshold, looted them afterwards.

Well, no more. After today, there wouldn't be a single one of them left to run rampant on the battlefield, they'd—

He rounded a corner and spotted the garish flag that symbolised Iteos' apparent nobleness. That fucking rose had pissed off Rial from the very first moment he saw it. How he looked forward to stomping it to the ground. Soon their tents came into view, and then the entrance to their part of the camp. What he saw made him stop, fuming.

A gate. They had erected a gate. With guards. In the middle of the camp. _Rial's_ camp. The arrogance! The sheer insult to his authority!

He made to stalk over there, keeping a hand on his sword at all times, ready to swing at the first arsehole who tried to have a go when a hand clamped down firmly on his shoulder. He made to snarl in the newcomer's face, but Sid's look made him stop dead in his tracks, the older man shaking his head slowly, gently turning his general around and marching him behind one of the other tents.

"What are you doing?" Rial demanded, gritting his teeth. He liked the spy, he did, but he'd better have a damned good reason for interrupting this!

"Stoppin' you from makin' a _huge_ mistake, Cap'n," Sid replied, shaking his head again. "Havin' a go at Iteos is sure to cause more'n a _bit_ o' chaos."

Rial paused. How had he known he was going after Iteos.

"A wee bird told me," Sid said, apparently reading his mind.

"I don't care," Rial said, trying to push past him, but the man was surprisingly steady on his wounded leg, easily holding him in place. "I'll kill him, I'll—"

"And then what? Try t' fight your way out o' their camp while five hundred mercenaries bear down on you? You're a brave man, Cap'n, but tha's just stupid."

"So what am I supposed to do?" Rial asked. "Just let him get away with it?"

Sid watched him carefully, cocking his head to the side, as if he was watching something curious. "Exactly what did he do, Cap'n?"

"Surely your _wee bird_ told you?" Rial said, shaking his head and gripping his sword tighter. "The depravity—"

"Depravity?" Sid asked, eyes widening. "Is _tha'_ what you're callin' it these days? Back in my day we just called it screwin'. Hardly depraved since everyone does it..."

"It's not _what_ he did," Rial said, already feeling his anger deflate. "It's _who_ he did it to!"

"Who, the Hero? Fully consensual," Sid said, shrugging. "Terrible, certainly, but hardly depraved." He fixed Rial with a look. "But it's not _tha'_ one, is it? The King..."

"How'd you know?"

"Birds," Sid said, winking. "A murder of crows, in fact. Tell me, Cap'n...have you staked your claim on him yet?"

Rial froze, eyes wide and unblinking, horrified that he'd been found out. "Wha...?"

"I'll repeat: Have you, in any way, shape or form, staked your claim on His Majesty, the King? Made obvious how you've been...feelin' about 'im?"

Staring glumly at the ground, Rial shook his head. "No, I haven't, but I—"

"The King bought Iteos' allegiance and army fair and square, certainly in an unorthodox way, but...still fair. Had he known about your feelings, then perhaps he would not have done it tha' way...but as things stand right now, Cap'n, you've no right to be angry with either of them, and attackin' Iteos now is simply goin' to start an internal strife that'll tear your army apart...or leave a good chunk of it in the ground." He stepped forward and clapped Rial on the shoulder, a grim smile on his face. "I know how you feel, believe me...but now is not the time for it." With that said, he walked away, not sparing Rial a second glance, leaving the general to stare at the entrance to Iteos's camp.

He lost track of how long he had stared, but the anger that had fuelled him thus far slowly died down, leaving him with a gnawing sense of shame and annoyance, mostly because that, as much as he hated to admit it, Sid was right. He'd never had the guts to tell Victor about how he felt, and now that cowardice had come back to bite him in the arse. Sheathing his sword, he walked away, swearing to himself that he would make it up to Victor, no matter what it took. Iteos wouldn't get away with this. Not as long as Rial was around.

On the way back to his tent, he walked past the stables. He saw the Hero feeding the oddly-coloured foal that apparently belonged to him. Their eyes met, but he was unable to do anything but shake his head sadly in apology-though he did not know for what. The Hero simply nodded, apparently in understanding and went back taking care of the horse.

He felt sorry for the boy, but Rial did not approach or talk to him. Someone else would get revenge for that. A certain red-eyed blonde would see to it the second he found out about it. Smiling slightly to himself, Rial wished that he would be there to see the spectacle.

* * *

A few nights later, they returned. Or two of them did, at least. Link was training his skills bow and arrow skills with the other archers, using equipment that had kindly been given to him by the quartermaster. "Plenty of good weapons without owners these days," the man had said as he handed the bow and quiver to Link, looking sad. Link figured he was part of Riveth's original regiment. He'd lost a lot of friends in the past few months.

Link was no expert bowman, but he had a solid foundation and a considerable amount of natural talent, and the other archers were happy to give him pointers and tips. He'd drastically improved in the few hours he spent with them. He'd just speared the straw puppet right through the heart with an arrow when he heard the commotion by the entrance to the camp.

"What's going on?" he asked, but no one else knew either. He slung the bow around him and hurried in the direction of the sounds, hope rising in his chest as he imagined Sheik and the others riding through the camp, triumphantly announcing their success. But then he remembered Sheik's letter, and his heart started to beat faster with worry.

And then he saw them. Kafei riding a large horse whose harness bore the marks of what he assumed was the city of Ironhill, his face uncovered and locked in a grimace of worry, which was anything but usual for the stoic Sheikah. And Link saw why. Elenwe rode in front of him in the saddle, slumped forward, her head hanging low. She was bundled up in clothing, but Link could see the red stains covering them. He waved and shouted, but Kafei did not seem to notice him, his eyes searching for the sick tent. Randomly, they met Link's-and The Hero's breath faltered momentarily. The sheer pain in Kafei's eyes were enough to convince Link that the Sheikah had never been as frightened in his life, not even when meeting Sheik again after so many years.

Then they were gone, riding further into the camp, knocking down a few people who didn't get out of the way fast enough. Link followed them, wondering how far behind Sheik was...or if he was even following them. Was he alone? Link hated the idea of his lover trying to find his way back here without anyone to watch his back or protect him if he ran into trouble. He reminded himself for the nth time that Sheik was more than capable of looking after himself, but it did little to calm his nerves.

He spotted the sick tent before he saw Kafei standing outside, hands hanging limp by his side as he stared at the flap, probably listening in to the medics inside. Link hoped Agneta was on station. Elenwe would be in good hands if she were. He slowed down and approached the Sheikah carefully, raising a hand in greeting. Kafei didn't give one back, only gave him an empty look, merely acknowledging his presence before returning to stare at the tent. Link stood beside him.

"You're back," he said, realising how awkward he was sounding, but not caring. Kafei shouldn't be alone right now, he thought.

"Hm," Kafei grunted.

"How is she?" Link continued, undeterred by his uncommitted reply.

"Bad," Kafei said.

Progress, Link thought. At least he's saying words. "I'm sure she'll be fine," he continued. "The doctors here are the best."

Kafei look at him, finally focusing on him properly. "I took too long getting her here," he said, voice dull. "Lost too much blood..." he looked at his hands, and Link noticed that Kafei's clothes were soaked in blood as well. He scanned him for injuries, but saw none. All of it must have been Elenwe's...a thought that sent chills down his spine. Surely she couldn't be...?

"She'll be fine," Link repeated, putting as much conviction behind his words as possible, though he found it distinctly lacking, being unable to shelve his worry about Sheik. But it was too early to ask, surely?"

"I know what you wish to ask me," Kafei said, seemingly reading Link's mind. "And I don't know. He was fine the last time I saw him, on the road outside Ironhill, but..."

"But...?" Link asked, anxiety growing.

"It's probably nothing...but I don't trust the one I left him with." That was apparently all Kafei was going to say about it, reaching out to push the tent flap slightly aside, peeking inside.

Link didn't like the sound of this. Not only had Sheik been left behind, but he'd been left behind with a stranger Kafei didn't trust. Link had been around the oldest Sheikah long enough now to know that his judgement could generally be trusted. Worry flared up in his chest again, and he felt a strong desire to extract more information from Kafei, but he stopped himself just as he opened his mouth, realising that the last thing Kafei needed right now was a nosy Hero of Time asking bothersome questions while the love of his life (it was quite obvious, even if the Sheikah couldn't see it on account of being blind as a bat and emotionally stumped...kind of like Sheik, now that he thought about it) was lying on the other side of the cloth, fighting for hers.

Instead, Link clamped his mouth shut and, in a show of support, patted Kafei's shoulder gently and stood next to him in silence. The least he could do was to offer some company, even if it was silent. He didn't like the idea of leaving Kafei alone. Link had a feeling he'd do something stupid to distract himself from Elenwe's situation, and judging by _Sheik's_ ability to do stupid things, he didn't dare to think about the magnitude of what Kafei could get involved in.

The Sheikah gave him a look Link was unable to read, but he swore he could see a passing look of gratitude on Kafei's face. And that was enough.

Link lost track of the amount of time they stood there. Every now and then they could hear the medics inside the tent panic slightly, which caused Kafei to tense up and ball his fists to the point where his nails drew blood from biting into his palms. He chewed his lips, his eyes angry. Not with the doctors or Elenwe or even her attacker-but himself. He was blaming himself for this. Granted, Link didn't know the full story behind this, but he was absolutely certain that no part of it was the Sheikah's fault or doing.

Kafei grew even tenser when all fell silent within the sick tent. There were murmurs coming from inside, and Link had half a mind to burst through the flap just to put an end to the uncertainty. Kafei seemed to have a similar idea, and his hand was halfway up to the flap when Agneta suddenly came out, most of her apron and hands covered in blood. She tried to wipe it away with an even bloodier rag, though she didn't seem to pay the task much mind. Her eyes met Kafei and Link's, and, after a moment's hesitation that seemed to last forever, she gave them a small smile.

"She lost a lot of blood, but she'll live," she said, exhaustion evident in her voice and stance. Her eyes were glassy, almost as if she was sick. "But she probably won't be happy about it," she added with a slightly bitter tone.

"What's the damage?" Kafei asked, every trace of worry gone from his being. It was such a drastic change that it would have surprised everyone who hadn't dealt with Sheikah before. But Link had been with the master of this for so long that it didn't even faze him, unlike Agneta, who blinked in confusion before also assuming a business-like tone, assuming correctly that Kafei wanted a serious report.

"Well, her left arm is gone, though I doubt that is much of a surprise to you," she said, shaking her head. "Even if you'd brought it back, we wouldn't have been able to reattach it, cauterised as the wound was. As for her right arm...with practice she will be able to regain the use of her hand, though the missing joints and tips will clearly trouble her for a while. Her leg will make a full recovery. We reset the bone and as long as she keeps her weight off it, she will be able to walk just fine."

"Her eye?" Kafei asked.

"Hard to say," she replied, shaking her head again in sadness. "There was definite damage to it, but it was difficult to ascertain the extent. We'll simply have to wait for her to wake up and let her tell us herself. Her face...we've done our best to limit the scarring, but there's only so much the red potion can do."

"I thought we were out of red potion?" Link asked, recalling a whispered conversation he'd overheard between the doctors and the quartermaster.

"We've been saving a small supply for emergency cases-I made the call and considered this to be one."

Kafei remained silent for a few minutes, as if digesting the information he'd just been served. "May I see her?" he finally asked. Agneta nodded and parted the tent flap to let him inside, giving Link a look that clearly conveyed that he should probably not follow him, which the Hero agreed wholeheartedly with.

"I'll be outside," Link called quietly after him.

"As will I," Agneta said, closing the flap. Sighing, she sagged slightly and sat on a crate, crossing her arms in an effort to keep the cold out. "Whoever did that to her," she muttered, "I hope they're dead, and that their passing wasn't gentle."

"Strong words from a doctor," Link said, but then he remembered who she'd been trained by. "But appropriate coming from a student of Kaura's."

She grinned weakly. "Knowing her, she'd hunt them down herself and...well, you know," she said and made vaguely stabbing motions with her hand, holding an imaginary surgical blade.

Link grinned back. "Can't imagine Kafei letting them get away with it," he said. "Hell, the others might even have joined in on the payback." The mental image of Sheik going berserk hit him then, and all he could think about then was the way the Sheikah had, in his own words, "annihilated" one of the men who'd enslaved Tao back in Hyrule. It was something Link never wanted to see again. He hoped Sheik hadn't done anything stupid...

* * *

The air was swelteringly hot inside the tent, unlike the freezing weather outside. Most of the lamps had been doused or extinguished, leaving only a few of them for the bare necessity. Most of the patients were asleep, a few of them tossing and turning, giving pained moans as sleep eluded them. It wasn't difficult finding Elenwe's bed. Two people were standing beside it, keeping her under close observation. Kafei recognised Angen as one of them. He noticed the Sheikah, gave him a quiet nod and ushered the other medic away, leaving a chair beside the bed.

"Don't wake her," he whispered as he passed Kafei. "She's been through a lot tonight."

"You don't need to tell me," Kafei whispered back, feeling slightly offended. As if he didn't know what Elenwe had gone through... He shook his head in annoyance and quietly sat himself in the chair, looking at the mound of blankets and pillows that surrounded the seemingly tiny form of Elenwe. Not much of her face was visible, most of it obscured by the bandages soaked with red potion. One was draped across her eye, leaving the other one exposed. It was closed-she was actually sleeping, and didn't seem bothered at all. He wondered how much painkillers they'd pumped her full of.

The blankets reached just below her shoulders. Her right arm was on top of them. Her hand was wrapped in many layers of bandages, and they had still been slightly reddened by blood. He shuddered at the memory of her lying on the table, the bones inside her fingers visible... He tried not to, but eventually looked at her other arm...or, the place where her other arm should have been, anyway. Like Agneta said, they'd been unable to do anything but clean the wound, sew it and wrap it up. He felt guilty for staring at it. He couldn't imagine what it was like, missing a limb like that. Instinctually he reached up to touch his own left arm.

It should have been me, he thought. It should have been me in that chamber, suffering through that bitch's torture. Whatever Elenwe did to her...she didn't deserve this...

He sighed. This wasn't how things were supposed to go. He was finally ready to let Anju go, to try and have a healthy relationship with someone very special to him...and then this... She'd waited for this for Goddesses knew how long, and now...

I'll stay until you wake up, he thought. I want to be there for you when you do.

Hesitantly, he reached out and, after a moment of thought, found an unharmed patch of skin on her arm and lightly stroked it, trying to be as gently as possible so she wouldn't wake up.

"I..." he began, gritting his teeth when the rest of the sentence refused to come out, hanging his head in defeat.

I'm pathetic, he thought.

* * *

**Soul Remnants**

**Chapter 57**

* * *

Sheik watched as the small procession of soldiers made their way into the small canyon, following the (fake) tracks left behind by him and Lor. Had they been in a hurry, Sheik would have advocated a quick and messy way to eliminate their pursuers and leave the place far behind, but at the moment they had all the time in the world. Mostly because they were deliberately letting the pursuing parties find their tracks from time to time in order to draw attention away from Kafei.

The Sheikah was probably well away from Ironhill by now—perhaps he had even reached the rebel camp—but Sheik wanted to be absolutely sure that no one was following his cousin and Elenwe.

 _I hope she'll make it_ , he thought. He had no idea what her death would do to Kafei, but it sure as hell wouldn't be good. They'd barely started to be civilised—even friendly, amazingly enough—towards each other, and for something so terrible to happen to Kafei now would be catastrophic. He ignored the small voice in the back of his mind that said he'd taken his sweet time to start being nice to Kafei, knowing it was right but refusing to acknowledge it. It wasn't Sheik's fault that Impa had lied to him…if that was indeed the truth.

He shook his head. Now was not the time to start mentally debating with himself whether or not he'd been lied to his entire life. That was a subject more suited for when he was in a safe place. Preferably in the arms of a certain Hylian…

He looked back at the procession. They were struggling in the deep snow, which rested on a rather thin slab of ice above a surprisingly deep stream. Fall into that in heavy armour… He couldn't help but grin at how easily these soldiers were fooled by fake tracks that had taken him barely ten minutes to make. Of course, Lor had helped by moving ahead of Sheik and was currently making his way around the canyon to Sheik's position, probably eager to watch the show.

Sheik had been worried about the young assassin ever since they'd left Ironhill. Whatever glee he'd gained from watching the guildhall burning to the ground was swallowed up by Jeryd's death. In the days that followed their escape from the city, Lor had been silent, barely responding to Sheik's attempts to communicate. Oh, he'd done as Sheik had asked and made himself useful in general—he just hadn't spoken.

On the third night, Sheik had awoken to Lor quietly weeping to himself, but he had not done anything, only listening to him. He didn't want to jeopardise the fragile alliance between them, and involving himself in something as personal as that would most likely only upset the boy. He'd wait, and if Lor wanted to open up to him, he would let him. He owed Jeryd that much, he felt.

Jeryd…now why had he done something as stupid as that? The wound was life-threatening, certainly, but if they'd moved right away and gotten to a doctor, he _might_ have survived…but then nothing would have been holding back the collective assassins of Ironhill from killing them all as they tried to run away… But together they could have fought, perhaps even—

 _ **Trying to make yourself feel better? Hah, the human's dead and gone, and it was most likely your fault. Deal with it,**_ Speil's unwelcome voice said nastily, the shadow sounding immensely pleased with the outcome of the situation. He had probably seen Jeryd as a threat to the wholly imaginary relationship he had with Sheik, and was quite happy with one less rival to deal with it.

 _I don't recall asking for your opinion,_ Sheik thought, cursing whatever event had caused him to unwittingly allow Speil to talk to him to high heaven. _Shut up._

To his surprise, Speil held his tongue after that. Maybe the shadow was actually growing more sensitive to his wishes…

_**Hah!** _

…apparently not.

He felt someone approaching him from behind and turned his head. Lor held his hands up to signal that he was friendly, and Sheik nodded and returned his gaze to the soldiers. Lor crouched down next to him, peering down.

"Everything ready?" Sheik asked, not expecting an answer.

"They'll be led on quite a chase," Lor replied, surprising Sheik. He sounded tired, but there was an undertone of malice. "I hope they are careful when going across the ice upstream. It's quite…fragile."

Sheik studied the boy's face. "Did you weaken it?" he asked, looking carefully.

Lor shrugged. "I might have…stomped a bit heavier across it than I should have."

It was quite devious…and unnecessary. But this was the first time Lor had spoken since their escape, and Sheik didn't want him to clam up again. And Sheik had to admit, putting himself in Lor's position, having just lost the love of his life…well, he might not have felt all that charitable towards the enemy soldiers either. Impa would have thrown a fit about it being a waste of time and a stupid risk.

So instead of reprimanding Lor as he probably should have, being technically the "senior" assassin there, he nodded and grabbed his kit.

"We should get going," he said, slinging it across his back. "The sooner we're out of here, the better." He looked at the map of Lumina he always carried with him these days, trying to figure out how long it would take them to get back. "I'd say it's about a week, a week and a half of walking until we reach the camp."

"That's a long way in this weather," Lor said.

"Maybe we can steal some horses along the way," Sheik replied, feeling a pang of loss at the thought of Maladict…not to mention Epona. He wished he knew what had happened to them, if they were even still alive. Link had told him that playing Epona's Song on the ocarina didn't work, that nothing happened. Sheik could only hope that it meant that the inherent magic in the song and the bloodline Epona descended from was somehow being blocked, but the doubt gnawed at the back of his mind.

There was a commotion from the canyon along with the unmistakable sound of ice breaking. The two assassins hurried away from there, satisfied that they'd given the enemy soldiers something to occupy themselves with for a while as they made their escape. Sheik looked at Lor as they ran, and saw that the boy was smirking to himself.

_Uh-oh…_

* * *

Rial stared at the map of Lumina, his eyes focusing on the southern parts, close to Urne, thinking carefully before looking up at the scout who had just returned from there.

"And they haven't made a move since then?" he asked. "You're sure about this?"

The scout nodded. "Yes, sir," she said. "I've been keeping a close eye on their camp. The only ones to have gone in and out of it have been supply deliveries."

"And when did this period of inactivity start?"

"Soon after Countess Marlotta left Urne, sir. It was like the whole county fell asleep after she left. There's barely been any activity from her guards either. There's been no effort to get rid of the mercenaries at all."

Rial leaned back in his chair, grunting. "Hm, sounds suspicious, don't you think? Almost as if the mercenaries' operations were dependent on her…"

"Might have been payin' 'em off," Sid said, nodding to the scout in a silent gesture. She saluted and left the tent. "Wouldn't surprise me if Rehm's been stagin' all those attacks himself."

"To make his claims more credible," Rial said, continuing along Sid's line of thought. "And pressure Victor into making decisions that happen to help him gain more and more power." He shook his head, sighing. "So, not only are we fighting most of the Royal Army, we have an uncertain factor in the mercenaries in Urne, Ise to the west in Caldhaven and that damn airship that could be anywhere at any time."

"Aye, but we're ready t' take th' last one down now," Sid said, winking at him. "Just say th' word and we'll get ready."

"Mhm," Rial said. "I'd like to wait a little while, though, until the hoopla about the Ironhill sabotage dies down a bit. In the meantime, I'd like to send a messenger to the mercenaries. See if they can be bought off, or something."

"What, t' fight with us?" Sid asked.

Rial shrugged. "Frankly, I think we have enough mercenaries with us for now. Frankly, I just want them to stay where they are, out of our way so we can deal with the Royal Army without having to worry about them suddenly charging at our backs."

"Good idea," Sid said, nodding. "I'll make th' arrangements. Any specific stipulations?"

"No, but try not to empty the royal coffers completely, yeah?"

"Got it, Cap'n." Sid paused. "Not tha' we _have_ control of th' coffers…" They shared a grin, as if their control of the coffers was a foregone conclusion.

"Also, I'd like to send a scout or messenger to Caldhaven, to stake things out, see where Ise stands in all this."

"All right, I'll have one sent off right away."

Rial left the command tent, glad to have issued the day's orders. He had no doubt a catastrophic emergency would happen later to ruin his one moment of peace, but for now he didn't have much to do. He decided to visit his aunt and took the path to the sick tent, seeing a few harrowed medics emerging from it, both ready to cry by the looks of their shiny eyes and quivering lips. He couldn't help but grin. It was to be expected by now, really. For a dying person, Riveth couldn't have with not being in constant activity now she was able to breathe a little better, which resulted in many injuries whenever doctors and medics tried to keep her in bed when she clearly wasn't interested.

The grin grew wider when he heard her barking voice, basically giving everyone within earshot such a hiding for even _thinking_ about feeling sympathy for her. It faltered when a particularly vulgar sentence was punctuated with a wet cough that sounded like someone stepping into a bog. He took a deep breath and entered the tent.

"Don't touch me, you overrated horse doctor!" Riveth bellowed at Angen, who simply shook his head in exasperation and continued his ministrations. He was attempting to listen to her breathing, but the ex-general was making it very difficult. "You don't know anything about bedside manners!"

"You didn't complain all those years ago," Angen said patiently, smirking at her.

Riveth's angry expression faltered for a second, looking like she was about to smirk back, but then she must have recovered her self-righteous anger and began scowling.

"You were a shit lover and you couldn't satisfy a succubus!"

"Good thing you're not a succubus, then."

Deciding he'd had enough, Rial stepped forward, speaking, "Okay, I think there's a few people along the border who haven't heard about your sexual history, now can we please not learn anymore about it?"

"You should be happy that you've got such an open aunt, Rial, otherwise I might have disapproved of your little…crush," Riveth said, giving him a nasty grin.

"Even so," he continued while ignoring the little stab, "I don't think your particular…history is of that much interest to the army at large."

Angen took the opportunity to finally put the apparatus against Riveth's bare back, eliciting a hiss from the retired general, and earning him a death glare from her. "Sorry, I took the opportunity. Isn't that what one does in the military?"

"I hate you, Angen," Riveth muttered.

"Yes, yes, now take a deep breath, hold it for five seconds and release it."

Despite her grumbling, she obeyed and drew a deep, rasping and wet breath. It was even more unpleasant to listen to through the apparatus, judging by Angen's wince. The release was followed by a bout of coughing that Rial was sure was going to result in pieces of lung flying everywhere.

"Disgusting disease, isn't it?" she asked after recovering, wiping tears from her eyes. "Feels like I'm about to spray the room with my innards." She adjusted her seating position after Angen removed the apparatus—called a stethoscope, apparently—from her back. "Anyway, I'm sure you're not here to listen to what I was up to in my adventurous youth, not a damn word from you, Angen," she said, giving the ex-innkeeper a warning look when he opened his mouth to protest something, probably the word "youth". And with that speculation, the part of Rial's mind that had dared to even _think_ about that particular topic was locked away, never to be seen or heard again. And good riddance to it.

"I just came to see how you were doing, really," Rial said, taking a seat next to her bed. "I was worried you were starting to succumb to the disease, but it seems your...cantankerous personality is keeping it at bay." She practically beamed with pride at the last part. "And I figured I might as well let you know that I'm sending out runners to Caldhaven and Urne. The mercenaries might be reasoned with."

"Turn them to our side, clever," she said. "I'd be careful about hiring _too_ many of them, though."

"I'm not planning on turning them or hiring them," he clarified. "I just want them to stay out of our way. And you have no comment on the Ise situation?"

"Not really," Riveth admitted. "We've no idea what she might be planning, so it's just as well to send someone to find out. If she's open to negotiations, though, I'd consider making a deal involving our wounded. It's not good for them to be moved around all the time like this."

"Does that include you, Drena?" Angen asked, looking innocent. He'd started referring to her by her first name now, arguing that since she had technically retired, they were on equal ground now. Riveth absolutely hated it.

"You know bloody well it doesn't," she shot at him sourly. "Like I've told you both, I have no intention of letting this disease be what gets the better of me in the end."

Both Rial and Angen nodded at that. It was a bit grim, hearing her declare that she was basically going to commit suicide, whether by proxy in the form of an enemy sword or some other way, but on the other hand, neither liked the idea of her withering away like an old crone either. If anything, it was admirable, the way she kept on going as strongly as she did, considering her other injuries as well.

A medic emerged from behind a screen, wiping his bloody hands. Rial knew who lay behind the screen.

"How is she, the Gerudo?" Riveth asked.

"Bad," Angen said shortly. "She'll live, but...she was very injured."

"Poor girl," Riveth muttered. "Caught a glimpse of her when they brought her in last night. Can't imagine who'd do something like that to her."

"The Sheikah told me that it was one of the assassins," Angen said. "Some sadistic bitch who got what was coming to her in the end."

"Good," Rial said. He looked at the screen. "Where _is_ the Sheikah, anyway?"

"Out for food with the Hero, I think," Riveth said. "Poor boy is so distraught he's apparently forgotten that he needs to eat and drink as well. Practically had to be out by his ear."

"Heard anything from his cousin?" Angen asked. Of all of them, he knew Sheik the best, and it was natural that he was worried.

"Only that he and another assassin are on their way here," Rial said. "Link sent the falcon out so she could deliver reports, but it seems they've gone into hiding. They're probably trying to attract as little attention as possible. If a guard patrol found them now...I'm not sure they would be able to fight them off by themselves."

"And this other assassin?" Riveth asked. "Can he be trusted?"

"Kafei doesn't trust him, that's all I know," Rial admitted. "But then, Kafei doesn't seem to trust anyone, especially not after what happened with Elenwe."

"Not surprising in the least," Angen said.

"What _I'm_ worried about at the moment is Link stealing a horse and going out there after them," Rial said. "He seems...antsy."

"That won't be a problem," Riveth said as-a-matter-of-factly. "He'll be too busy tending to Kafei since _he's_ obviously too busy tending to Elenwe."

"I hope so, the last thing we need right now is a bunch of hormonal boys running around the countryside screaming for each other," Rial said, once again wondering whether he'd done the right thing by accepting their help when they came back. Then he reminded himself of the fact that both of the new airships in Ironhill were currently lying ruined in their dry docks and quickly banished the previous thought. Of course it was the right thing to do. Without them they'd be wiped out within weeks as the first air battleship was finished and launched.

"They know when to restrain themselves," Angen said. "Especially Sheik. Never seen someone that young with that kind of self-control."

"Hmph," Riveth grunted, whether or not in agreement was unknown. "Any word on General Mirn's progress?"

"Not yet," Rial answered. "Scouts can't get close enough to the border to find out anything, but the fact that Rehm hasn't made any grand declarations that Mirn has been killed or his army destroyed is probably a good sign."

"They'll have a hard time getting in, though," Riveth said. "The only two gates big enough to bring an army through at any reasonable speed are heavily defended, not to mention build solid enough to bounce off rocks. And those cannons..."

"Whether they succeed or not, we'll probably hear about soon afterwards anyway," Angen said. "I'd be surprised if he failed, though."

"Why is that?" Rial asked.

"Because Mirn is a tough bastard on his own, but he's currently accompanied by a princess who fought a war that lasted seven years with about as many resources as we have, _and_ she had to deal with plenty of dark magic that aided the enemy. We're lucky enough to simply having to deal with a flying ship, and that's nothing compared to dark wizards and those kinds of fiends. If anyone knows how to win a war like this, it's her."

"It will certainly be interesting to see what she can do," Riveth said, nodding. "Tough girl, that one, or so I hear. Then again, she has the unquestioned loyalty of both the Hero of Time and The Earl of Hyrule, and I highly doubt that's something they give lightly. Together, I imagine the three of them form some unbeatable trifecta."

"...aunt, how powerful are those painkillers of yours?"

"Kindly fuck off, nephew."

* * *

Zelda looked on as the catapults launched volley after volley of rocks at the massive gates that barred their entry into Lumina. She sighed when all the mighty stones did was to bounce off the gate like pebbles, barely making dents in the metal that covered them. She gave the order to reload and fire again, wondering why they were even bothering.

General Mirn was on the other side of their line, supervising the digging efforts. Someone had suggested digging a tunnel underneath the gate, weakening its supports and hopefully bringing it down, or at least making it more vulnerable to the artillery. Zelda doubted the plan very much. If they'd had a pair of those cannons that the defenders were touting and firing periodically on the attackers, then perhaps the strategy would work, but with catapults as their only means of ranged attack...well, they'd be peppering the enemy for months at this rate.

Of course, it was highly unlikely that the digging would even succeed. It was the middle of the winter, the ground was rock-hard and frozen far, _far_ beneath the surface. Very little progress had been made in the two days they'd been at this.

She didn't envy Mirn his position at the moment. According to him, rising to the rank of general in the Royal Army of Lumina was incredibly difficult, and you needed to be either very lucky, very distinguished or a bloody tactical genius. Preferably, you were a bit of all three, like Mirn claimed to be. But right now he was not looking very good at all, neither in front of his men or Zelda's. He seemed to understand this, because Zelda could see doubt clouding his eyes every time he made a decision. She didn't blame him at all, though. It was a difficult situation he'd been put in. It was bad enough that his home had been taken over while he was away, but now he actually had to _attack_ it and invade...no, not an enviable position at all.

She looked up as the man himself approached her, dirty from top till toe. He'd been personally joining in on the digging then. Now that was an admirable quality about the man, she thought. He wasn't afraid of getting dirty whatsoever, and seemed to have no problem connecting with the men on a personal level, no matter what rank they were. He treated them all the same, which was the proper way to deal with subordinates, in her opinion. Treat them well, and they will respect you.

Mirn saluted. "Princess," he said.

Zelda smiled and nodded to him. "General," she replied. "There's no need to salute, I'm not your superior. I'm not even from Lumina."

"Nevertheless, you are a princess, Your Highness," the man said stubbornly. "I'm sad to say that the digging has failed," he said after a few seconds of silence, his shoulders sagging slightly. The man had been sure that the tunnel had been their best bet. It was sad to see his disappointment. "The—"

"...ground is too hard," Zelda finished for him, shaking her head in dismay. This left only one strategy, the one they'd hoped to avoid. "I'm sorry to hear that, general."

"As am I," Mirn replied, shaking his head as well. "We will have to call a meeting later and discuss the final option with our officers."

"Many lives will be lost because of this," she said, staring at the gate in the distance.

"Perhaps not so many as we fear," Mirn said. "I've been looking through some of the documents that was brought along when I left for Hyrule, and among them was the supply report for this particular gate."

"And?"

He smiled a little. "It seems that the armory has not been stocked properly for a while. They might not have enough ammunition for their cannons to do _that_ much damage to us."

"That would explain why they are only firing every now and then," Zelda said, nodding to herself. "They're afraid of running out."

"Exactly, and they are hoping we will be so scared by those shots that we'll turn around and flee with our tails between our legs."

Zelda narrowed her eyes. "I survived the war with Ganondorf, general. It's going to take a lot more than this to scare me."

Mirn nodded with approval. "It's decided, then," he said.

She looked at him. "Yes," she said. "Call a meeting, let us inform the officers. We attack at dawn."

* * *

In his prison cell deep beneath the castle in Lumina City, the King was plotting.

Of all the embarrassing, humiliating moments in his life, this was the worst. Twice he had failed at rebelling against Rehm, and he'd gotten a lot of people killed while doing it. And now he was stuck in here, unable to do anything at all. They hadn't even left him clothes. He was as helpless as the day he was born, in a way. There were several guards outside the door, and they fed him three times a day. To their credit, at least it was proper food rather than the slop that prisoners were traditionally served, but still... None of them were open to negotiating a deal, none were interested in helping him. All they did in reaction to his propositions was to shake their heads and give him pitying looks. Those were the worst. They were silently telling him that he was pathetic by doing that...and he was inclined to agree.

He'd been played thoroughly by Rehm. For so many years, he'd thought the old man was a friend, a confidante. Just how long had he been planning this, laughing in his head at the poor little boy who just wanted his father to respect him?

The guards wouldn't tell him about the war, how it was going. He could only assume that was a good thing, for if Rehm was winning, then surely the guards would be gloating, enjoying their torment of him. Or perhaps that was part of their pity? Maybe they didn't want to break him any further...

He growled to himself and groped around the dark cell for his weapon.

It had been a coincidence that he'd found it. It was a piece of bone, some sort of rib, possibly. It had probably been left behind by the previous occupant of the cell, a remnant of some long-gone last meal. It was unusually strong, and after a little testing, Victor had begun to sharpen it against the rough stone walls of the cell. Hardly a suitable weapon for any armoured opponents, certainly, but for soft, unsuspecting ones...

He had no idea when he would find a use for it, but for now it was a task he could keep his mind busy with along with the plans for what he would do to Rehm when he got out of the cell. At the moment, the prospects of that looked dim, but he'd decided that he needed to keep a positive mind, to have faith in Rial and General Riveth. Surely they would be able to turn things around? Of course they would, he told himself and continued sharpening the bone. He imagined sticking it into Rehm's fat neck, and a grim smile spread on his lips.

* * *

Sheik watched the life in the man's eyes disappear as he withdrew his sword from his chest. The falling snow immediately got to work on covering up the body. Behind him, he heard Lor finish off his own opponent, the gurgles telling him that the boy had gone for the throat with his dagger.

"Is that all of them?" he asked.

"Yeah," Lor replied, wiping his blade clean with the dead man's tabard. "Only two of them on patrol. Stupid, really."

"Hm," Sheik grunted, nodding. He was glad that Lor had apparently gotten over the shock of losing Jeryd so suddenly. There was still much grief in him, but Lor seemed to have decided to wait to let it out until they got back to the camp, which was a blessing since it was turning out to be much more difficult than he'd expected. The number of highway patrols had quadrupled at the very least, and it was making it very difficult to make any sort of headway at all.

The two dead men in the snow had been one such patrol, apparently, most likely hastily drummed up from whatever barrack they resided in. Neither of them were wearing appropriate winter clothing, and they seemed wholly unprepared for the two heavily-armed assassins they had spotted. They _definitely_ hadn't expected the two to lay a spontaneous trap as they chased them between the trees, culminating in an ambush that left the soldiers dead as doornails.

Sheik pitied them, but reminded himself that they would gladly have done the same to him had they had half a chance.

"Their horses," Sheik said.

"Still on the road," Lor replied. "Take them?"

"We can't keep going on foot like this, it's far too slow," Sheik answered. He looked up at the sky. It was growing darker and darker by the minute. The days were so short during the winter here in Lumina; it was difficult to tell how much light they would get. "We take the road during the night, off-road by day."

"Sounds good," Lor said.

With that agreement, they went back to the highway and found the soldiers' horses. They looked good, fast. Well-fed and strong. Sheik sheathed his swords and climbed into the biggest one's saddle, patting its neck and whispering soothing words into its ears as it realised the rider wasn't the usual one. Lor did the same. Soon they were on their way, hooves thundering along the road. They had their hoods drawn tight around their heads, hoping it would throw any patrols off for the split-seconds they would need to either get away or go on the offensive.

Luckily, that was the last patrol they encountered that day. The pursuers from Ironhill seemed to have given up on catching up to them. That, or they didn't assume the saboteurs had gotten this far to begin with. Perhaps they thought they were still hiding in the city. That would definitely be best.

 _ **So tell me...**_ Speil's voice began, eliciting a loud groan from Sheik, which was swallowed up by the sound of the horses' hooves on the cobbles. _**When are you going to screw this one?**_

 _I..._ what _?!_ Sheik's train of thought came to a complete standstill, flabbergasted by the shadow's sudden and unexpected question.

 _ **You heard me,**_ he said. _**Now that the little clerk is dead and gone, this one's going to need...heh, how do I put it,**_ **tending** _ **to. This is your chance to have some fresh mea—**_

 _That's quite enough from you,_ Sheik interrupted him, disgusted with the idea. _Kindly shut the hell up._

 _ **You've changed...I don'† like it...**_ Speil said, almost sounding hurt. His acting couldn't fool anyone, and Sheik simply rolled his eyes.

_The more things I do you dislike, the better._

_**So you say, but you** _ **did** _**have a nice...moment with Clerk, didn't you? I wonder how dearest Hero would react if he found out...** _

_Doesn't matter since he won't find out, and it didn't mean anything at all!_

_**Liar...** _

_Better a liar than a murderer!_

_**Except you're both...and more. Heh, didn't think that through, did you?** _

_I...you..._

Whatever reply he was going to make—if he ever came up with one—was interrupted by Lor waving his arm at him, signalling behind them. Sheik turned his head and saw four dark shapes racing behind them. They were unmistakably armed soldiers. Tuning out Speil's mocking voice, Sheik sighed and drew one of his swords.

_Here we go again..._

* * *

**Soul Remnants**

**Chapter 58**

* * *

Given any other night, in any other situation, the act of Elenwe's eyes opening would not have been a noteworthy moment to Kafei. Oh, sure, it was always a pleasure to see those golden eyes of hers, but waking up was something one did every day, and that was hardly an achievement. But not today. Today, Kafei felt his heart give a leap of joy and a plunge of fear at the same time. Joy because...well, it didn't need any explanation. She was alive, she was awake and for intents and purposes she _would_ recover from the ordeal. Mentally, at least. Fear because...perhaps an explanation wasn't needed there either. Goddesses knew how she would react to the state she was in. Kafei knew Elenwe almost better than anyone, and while she had never been a very vain woman, losing everything that she had... He was afraid of what she might do upon realising her arm was gone forever along with her fingertips.

So it was with trepidation and anxiety that he watched her eyelid flicker open—the other one was hidden under the bandages—her breath slow and steady as she took in the room and her brain worked overtime to combat the painkillers and other medications that were keeping her mind a fuzzy mess. Her breath quickened as the memories of the torture room in the assassins' guild dungeon began to surface, the mental imprint of the extreme pain she had endured that night almost making her relive it. She was panting now, trying to move, but the bandages and blankets were impeding her movements, holding her fast. The fear in her eye grew, as she was surely reminded of the bindings that held her fast in the dungeons.

He cleared his throat then, deciding that intervention was needed. He didn't touch her, didn't speak, merely made his presence known, making sure that she got a good look at his face before doing anything else. He saw the recognition in her eye, the realisation... The tiny, barely noticeable sob that came from her throat broke all his self-control, and he leaned forward, brushing his hand against the piece of unharmed skin on her arm, comforting, reassuring.

"You're safe," he whispered. "We're far, far, _far_ away from Ironhill and the assassins, Elenwe. No one can hurt you here, shhh..."

It didn't comfort her nearly as much as he'd hoped, and the tears began to run trickle from the corner of her eye. A damp spot was quickly growing in the bandage over her other one. He closed his hand around her arm, gently squeezing, wishing there was somewhere he could touch her without risking causing her even more pain.

"H-how b-bad?" she asked, her voice raspy. When he looked away, uncomfortable with having to tell her, she almost growled. "Tell me!" she hissed.

"You've...lost your left arm," Kafei said, feeling like he was doing a grim inventory. "The tips of the fingers on your right hand...gone. Your leg is broken, but...but the doctors say it should heal fine as long as you don't put any weight on it. Your...eye...may or may not heal. The doctor will probably want to take the,er, bandage off later to see if you can...you know, see." Throughout all this, she kept her gaze firmly fastened on his, making him shiver. He'd never seen her this intense before. "There's...a lot of cuts on your body in general, but, uh...scarring should be minimal, they used their last supply of red potion on them..." He slowly let go of her arm as she clearly wasn't interested in being comforted. "That's...that's it..."

She returned to staring at the ceiling then. Tears were still trickling silently down her cheek, and he was gripped by a sudden and strong desire to wipe them away. He wanted...he wanted to do anything that would make her feel better.

"Is she dead?"

He paused at the question. "Who?" he asked.

"The bitch who did this to me," she clarified, her voice cracking. "Is. She. Dead?"

He nodded slowly. "She couldn't be any deader," he answered. "I...made sure of it."

She made a jerking motion with her head. "Good, good..." she muttered. Her lower lip trembled. "W-would've loved to do her in myself..."

"I' m sorry, I...sort of lost control. Sheik had to snap me out of it."

"Are they okay?"

He took a breath. "Jeryd...Jeryd didn't make it. He made sure we made it out, though. Sheik and Lor were alive the last time I saw them."

"Where are they?"

"I don't know," he admitted. "Sheik stole a horse for me and told me to ride ahead with you."

"I'm sure he's fine," she said, giving him an earnest look which was spoiled somewhat by the absolute misery that was otherwise on her face.

Is that really what you should be worrying about right now? he thought to himself, but holding his tongue.

"I guess...what we talked about...is off now, isn't it?" she asked after a while of staring at the ceiling.

"Excuse me?" Kafei asked.

"You know...the...thing...on the ship?"

He wished he could continue to play stupid, to avoid the topic, but despite all she had been through, he knew that Elenwe could still read him better than anyone. She knew he knew what she talking about. He'd given the subject a lot of thought during the time she was unconscious, had barely kept up with the conversations Link had tried to have with him in order to think about it. He would have forgotten to eat or drink if it hadn't been for the Hero of Time practically shoving things down his throat. He had an answer for her as well, but try as he might he could not force it out of his mouth. Instead, it hung open like he was in deep shock.

She took his silence as an answer, apparently, and nodded to herself.

"I see...don't blame you, really," she whispered. "Who'd want to be with a mess like this, huh?" she asked, trying to inject humour into the situation, which only seemed to make her more miserable. Another sob escaped from her, and the tenuous grasp she had on her self-control seemed to slip even further, her body beginning to shake.

That was all he could take. He stood up, cursing his cowardly self, deciding that if he could not tell her what he wanted with words, he'd damn well show her with actions instead. He gazed down at her for a second, taking in the the sight of the girl he had come to care so much for. She stared back, her eye hardening, like she was steeling herself for the final rejection.

He wished he could have seen the look on her face when he suddenly leaned down and captured her lips with his in a chaste but loving kiss. It musth have been priceless, surprised in a way she had never been before. She froze up for the first few seconds, and then her mind caught up with the situation, and she began to kiss back. Kafei reached and tenderly stroked an unharmed patch of skin on her cheek. He had, in the back of his mind, been dreading this moment because he was unsure of how it would make him feel. Now he was kicking himself for ever wondering about it in the first place. It felt...right. It felt more right than anything he had done in the past few years. In fact, he hadn't felt like this since the last time he had been with...her. He asked for forgiveness in his mind and then banished the mental image of Anju to one of the darkest corners. He had loved her, and lost her. This was not the time to live in the past. Now, his one focus was the girl who'd finally made him realise that life was more than mourning lost ones. No, it was time to let that go, and love someone else.

He broke the kiss, looking down at her with a faint smile on his face, mirroring hers. He took a deep breath, holding her gaze, and spoke.

"I love you."

* * *

Sheik felt one of the soldiers' swords score a glancing blow on his shoulder, easily cutting through the fabric of his clothes and nicking the skin beneath. He hissed and gripped the reigns of his mount tighter, swinging his sword wildly in the direction of the enemy with the other hand. Kafei had really known what he was doing when commissioning the swords. The modification done on the left twin of the pair fit perfectly in his hand with regards to weight and grip, accommodating his lack of ring and pinky fingers nicely.

The sword impacted something, and he heard a shout of pain along with the unmistakeable sound of a lot of metal hitting stone. A quick glance behind him showed that the soldier had fallen out of his saddle was currently rolling along the highway cobbles.

 _Two down,_ he thought, looking in the direction of Lor. The boy was struggling, the two soldiers on his tail harassing him and not giving him an opportunity to strike out at one of them. Sheik headed towards them, sheathing his blade and drawing the other, switching hands on the reigns. He'd never fought on horseback like this before and he had no idea how to tackle their predicament properly.

There was only one way to find out, really. He came up behind the first of the soldiers bothering Lor and tried to spur his mount on to get alongside him. The soldier noticed him before he had a chance to swing and struck out at him. Sheik ducked below the blade and swung his own, striking uselessly against the soldier's heavily armoured chest. The sword slid off harmlessly, leaving him open to attack. The soldier momentarily let go of his reigns and used the now empty hand to aim a punch at Sheik, which caught him on the cheek and nearly knocked him sideways off the horse. Only his death grip on the reigns saved him, but the horse reacted to the sudden tugging by almost careening right of the road, smacking Sheik into the thick bushes along the side.

Recovering, he steeled himself and his aching face and hurried back to catch up with them. It was almost impossible to see, it was so dark. Only the faint moonlight gave him a little light to see by, which wasn't much since he could only spot the outlines of the riders at best. He caught up to the soldier who had punched him again, but hung back a little, trying to spot the best way to attack. An idea struck him, and he grinned. He closed in on his target and swung, cutting the cinch. It looked positively comical when the soldier seemed to notice at the last moment that the saddle he was sitting was not actually attached to his horse anymore. Sheik's grin grew wider at the scream that followed, and then the soldier tumbled away into the darkness, the horse continuing its gallop, heedless of the fact that its owner was no longer there.

 _ **Hah, good one!**_ Speil guffawed loudly in his mind as he sped up to deal with the last man. Lor was holding him off well enough, but he didn't seem able to make any proper attacks.

 _Not a problem,_ Sheik thought, sheathing his sword and drawing a dagger. He sped up and stood up in his saddle, hurling himself from one horse to the other, landing just behind the soldier, in _his_ saddle. He didn't notice it right then because of the adrenaline, but he landed right on his own...assets. They paid him back for that later. Before the soldier could react, Sheik deftly cut his throat with the dagger and pushed him out off the horse, grabbing the reigns and riding up alongside Lor.

"That's all of them!" he shouted to the boy, who nodded his thanks.

Sheik felt bad for abandoning the horse that had taken him this far, but they couldn't afford to stop now and allow the rest of the soldiers that were surely pursuing them to catch up. Instead they rode on, eventually reaching parts that Sheik thought he recognised. Signalling to Lor, they turned off the highway and followed a smaller road that led further into the fields.

The camp had moved, of course, but Sheik had memorised the possible locations Rial would move it to at different times. He had a pretty good idea of where they would be now and led them confidently towards that location. After riding for another hour, they slowed down, confident that they had left behind any pursuers to deal with the mess on the road.

"You okay?" Sheik asked Lor, looking the boy over and trying to spot any injuries.

"Yes, thank you," Lor replied curtly. "You?"

"Fine, I think," Sheik said, touching his tender cheek carefully. He did not mention his aching loins. No one would know about those. Well, maybe _one_ person, and then he could kiss them better, and...

He caught himself fantasising and killed the thought stone-dead, glad that his mask covered up his blushing face.

"So...where are we?" Lor asked.

"Getting close to the possible location of the rebel camp," Sheik answered.

"Possible?"

"It moves around a lot," Sheik said, shrugging. "But I'm quite sure I know where it is. Another hour or so, and we'll find it."

"What will happen when we get there?" Lor looked nervous about this.

"We'll be welcomed, I assume," Sheik said. "I mean, we _did_ just do the rebels a huge favour."

" _You_ did, you mean," Lor said, shaking his head. "If anything, I just made things more difficult."

"Nonsense," Sheik protested. "Without you we wouldn't have made it out of there. Jeryd wouldn't have..." he trailed off, seeing Lor's face contort in anguish. _Oh, damn..._ he thought, cursing his lack of thought just then.

"Jeryd..." Lor said quietly.

"I'm sorry," Sheik said, bowing his head. "I...shouldn't have..."

Lor pulled the reigns until the horse had stopped, making Sheik do the same. Lor fixed him with an intense look, the moonlight making his eyes shine intensely.

"I want you to tell me something," he said slowly. Sheik nodded. "You knew Jeryd well, didn't you?"

"Well enough, I suppose," Sheik said.

"Did he ever...tell you about me?"

"Not before we actually met you."

"I see..."

"Jeryd never talked about himself all that much, though," Sheik said quickly. "To be honest, I never knew the...extent of his training until we actually arrived in Ironhill, so..."

"What did he say about me after you met me, then? Did he say anything about...liking me?"

"Oh, he liked you, that's for sure. I mean, you were his friend—"

"But nothing more than that, right?" Lor asked, looking crestfallen. "I knew it..."

Sheik didn't know what to do. He didn't even know how the conversation had taken a turn for the worse so quickly. Once again he was reminded of just how awkward he was around people who weren't Link or Zelda...or Kafei, to a limited degree. He shook his head.

"No, no, I mean, he said he liked you, and had things been different then maybe he'd...like you _properly_ , but—"

"What things?" Lor demanded.

"Uh...things like...er, your age, for example. He said you were a bit...young."

"Too young for him to like but not too young to fuck strangers in the whorehouse," Lor said, chuckling bitterly. "That sounds like Jeryd, all right..."

Sheik grimaced. "He didn't mean it like that, he wanted to protect you—"

"And now he's dead, and I'm currently stuck in the middle of nowhere, about to walk into a rebel camp filled with people who are probably more interested in killing me than anything else, if not for being an assassin then definitely for being a mage, albeit a crippled one!" Lor shouted, clenching his jaw. "Fine situation, isn't it? Thanks a lot, Jer! Fat lot of good your sacrifice made, huh?!"

Sheik didn't say anything. He had a feeling that Lor didn't mean what he was saying, that he was just releasing the frustration and anger that had been building up ever since they had left Ironhill, which he hadn't had the time or opportunity to do before now. He let the boy continue to rant, cursing everything and everyone, probably letting out emotions that had been building up for years, until he finally seemed to run out of steam and slumped slightly in the saddle, looking thoroughly miserable.

Sheik reached out and patted him lightly on the shoulder, unsure of what else to do. "Look," he said, "for what it's worth, the people in the camp won't want to kill you. At least not because you're a mage—"he realised how bad he was at comforting people just then"—because the core of the army has had a pair of mages with them for years now. Jeryd probably mentioned them, didn't he?"

Lor nodded slightly. "I guess..."

"So there's no need to worry about that," Sheik finished lamely. "I don't know—"

"I'm not staying," Lor said. "At the camp, I mean. There's nothing for me there."

"Where will you go, then?" Sheik asked.

"I don't know...the guild will be looking for me in Lumina, so maybe I'll leave it altogether..."

"That's fine," Sheik said hurriedly, hoping he wasn't driving him away. "But...at least resupply in the camp?"

"If they will let me."

"They will. I guarantee it."

"All right, then."

...

The silence was as awkward as it must have looked. Not knowing what else to do, the two began moving ahead, following the road until Sheik thought they had reached the point they needed to and turned, heading into the woods.

Soon enough Sheik felt the familiar sensation of being watched, and so did Lor by the look of him, squirming and looking nervously around. Sheik cleared his throat and stopped the horse, and Lor mirrored him.

"My name is Sheik and I have returned from Ironhill," Sheik announced, keeping his eye on the tree trunk behind which he knew a guard was hiding. "I don't know what today's password is but yesterday's was 'Rehm's a cock'." Again he was glad for the facemask covering the blush.

Someone snorted behind a rock. The man behind the tree peeked out, aiming a bow at them just to be sure. After taking a close look at them, he nodded and lowered his weapon. "Go ahead," he said and pointed behind him. "The camp is a mile in that direction."

"Thank you," Sheik said, nodding.

"Oh, and bloody nice job on those airships, eh?" the guard added. "The whole country's in an uproar."

"I aim to please."

"Interesting password," Lor said a few minutes after passing the checkpoint. "Tight security too. I counted at least twelve of them."

"Fifteen, actually," Sheik corrected him. "There were three hiding in the trees as well. And they like to be creative with their passwords."

Lor nodded, looking around, noticing another group of guards hiding around them. "Another checkpoint?" he asked.

"Backup in case something happens," Sheik explained. "There are at least five more groups like that along the way to the camp, I think, and similar groups in a wide circle around it. General Vortan takes security very seriously."

"I can see that."

That was all they said to each other the rest of the way. They were stopped at two more checkpoints before they began to see the lights from the rebel camp. The sounds of the army grew louder as they drew closer, and the smells assaulted their noses soon after. And then they entered a large clearing and were greeted by the sight of the massive tent city that sprung up wherever they travelled.

They were once again stopped at the gate, but were quickly let in once Sheik showed the guards his face. They left the horses at the stables, the stable master snorting, wondering how many horses Sheik was going to steal for him. The command tent was the next stop. Sheik knew exactly where it was. Rial liked to arrange the camp the exact same way whenever it was moved. No one knew why. Sheik's bet was that he did it in order for the activities going on could resume right away without the participants having to reorient themselves to a new layout. He could also imagine that Rial was slightly obsessive and liked things being done in a certain way, but he kept silent about that one.

"Just let me do the talking, all right?" Sheik said as they approached the command tent. "He's going to be suspicious of you at first, but that's more of a principle than something personal. He just doesn't like assassins very much. He didn't trust me very much at first either."

"That does not matter," Lor said. "I'll be gone by the morning anyway."

"Hm," Sheik grunted.

Rial was standing in the doorway as they approached, raising a hand in greeting. "Checkpoint sent a runner about your return. Welcome back," he said, stepping forward and shaking Sheik's hand firmly. "The sabotage of those ships has given us a fighting chance. Thank you."

"My pleasure," Sheik said, nodding. He motioned towards Lor. "This is Lorasi, an assassin from the city. He helped us escape from Ironhill. I trust him."

"I see," Rial said, sounding apprehensive but shaking Lor's hand nevertheless. "Sympathetic to the plight of the rebels, are you?" he asked.

"He and Jeryd were friends," Sheik said before Lor could open his mouth to answer. "But he's not interested in fighting. He's leaving in the morning."

"Is that so? Well, at least take the night to rest and eat," Rial said, apparently relieved that he wouldn't play host to yet another assassin. "I'll see to it that you have a strong horse to take where you want to go."

"Thank you, General," Lor said.

"Jeryd was a good man, and he had good judgement when it came to those he considered friends. Given his sacrifice, it's the least I could for someone he considered a friend." He looked at Sheik. "I'd ask you for a debriefing, but I have a feeling you have more...urgent tasks. Such as calming down a very nervous Hero, or checking up on the Gerudo."

"How is she?" Sheik asked, already feeling his heart swelling at the thought of being with Link again, but his chest tightened when Elenwe's face flashed before his mind's eye.

"Sick tent," Rial said simply. "She will make it, but the damage was...extensive. But she's awake, so there's progress."

"All right, thank you," Sheik said. "I'll come up for a debrief first thing in the morning."

"Sure thing, but remember to get some good rest, yeah? You've earned it. All of you," he said, adding emphasis when looking at Lor. Sheik was impressed by the self-restraint it must have taken not to make a comment towards the distrust Rial was feeling towards the young assassin. He also kept looking at the tattoo on Lor's cheek, but Sheik said nothing. That was _his_ secret to keep.

"So...he seemed...nice," Lor said, clearly feeling awkward as they headed for the sick tent.

"He's tough, but fair," Sheik said. "And he cares about those he trusts."

They stopped outside. Lor fidgeted. "Maybe I should wait outside," he said.

"Why?"

"These are your friends, and I doubt...Elenwe, was it, wants to see anyone who reminds her of what happened at the guild. I'd just be in the way, anyway."

"You wouldn't—"

"Even so, I think it's best that I don't interact with them all that much," the boy said apologetically. "I think I will just see about getting some food. Maybe I can meet them before I leave in the morning."

"Are you sure? They hold no grudge towards you, you know," Sheik said, not liking the idea of leaving Lor to wander the camp alone.

"I am," he said, nodding. "Thank you, though."

Sheik watched him walk away, feeling even more awkward. Whatever common middle ground they had was Jeryd and he was gone, so there was no way they could actually connect, and he felt bad because of that. He felt like should be able to do more for the closest thing Jeryd had to a family. He decided he wasn't going to give up, though, and intended to talk to Lor more closely before he left the following morning. Perhaps he could grant him some sort of sanctuary in Hyrule—he was the Earl, after all. Give him some semblance of safety. Maybe even contact magicians who could unlock the power within him.

That made him feel slightly better as he went inside the tent, his nose assaulted by the smell of cleaning chemicals and sterile equipment. He began to look around, trying to spot his friends, but seconds later he was assaulted by a whirl of green and blonde. Link's arms wrapped themselves tightly around Sheik and in a crushing embrace, the Hero burying his head in Sheik's neck. Instinctively, Sheik did the same, and the two simply stood there, holding each other for several minutes. It felt like it had been a lifetime since they saw each other last, and the simple act of hugging their loved ones was...overwhelming. They slowly moved their heads so they were looking at each other, and Link gently pulled down the mask covering the lower half of Sheik's face, wincing at the bruise that had formed on the Sheikah's cheek.

"Who-?" Link began, but Sheik interrupted him by leaning forward and kissing him, trying to express how much he had missed his Hero in the time he'd been gone. Link was only too happy to kiss back.

They lost track of the time, both too wrapped up in the other to notice anything else. They both blushed heavily when Agneta suddenly cleared her throat rather sharply with an armful of bandages, trying to get around them. They sheepishly stepped aside, grinning embarrassedly at her, to which she responded with a shake of her head and a muttered "Kids..."

"I missed you," Link said quietly, taking Sheik's pack from him and putting it on the floor. Then he took Sheik's hand and squeezed.

"I missed you too," Sheik replied, smiling.

"I'm sorry about Jeryd..."

"He went the way he wanted to, I think," Sheik said, smile faltering a bit. "Lor's distraught, though..."

"Lor...?"

"Lorasi. Jeryd's friend. We travelled back here together."

"Ah, where is—"

"Out for some food, I think. He doesn't intend to stay."

"I see...who did that?" the Hero asked, poking Sheik's bruise, eliciting a hiss of pain from the Sheikah.

"Road patrol," Sheik explained. "I gave more than I got. Always interesting to see what happens when you cut a man's cinch."

Link snorted. "Wish I could have seen that."

"You'd end up feeling sorry for him, I think."

"After punching you? No way."

They looked at each other for a few seconds, simply enjoying the sight of each other again. Then Sheik noticed the screen behind Link.

"Is...?" Sheik asked, motioning towards it.

"They're there, yeah," Link said. "But I don't think they want to be disturbed."

"Why not?"

"Well...I overheard Kafei..." Link leaned in conspiratorially, "confessing."

Sheik was honestly taken aback by that. "Seriously?" he asked. He hadn't expected Kafei to do anything about his crush on Elenwe at all, that he'd simply bury it underneath the grief he felt for Anju. "When?"

"Earlier tonight," Link said, grinning. Then his smile fell. "Elenwe's...badly hurt," he continued.

"I know, I was there," Sheik said.

"Sorry, I just..."

"It's okay..."

"I just think it's best to leave them alone for a little while," Link finished.

"You're right," Sheik said with a nod. "They have a lot to make up for, after all." He turned around to pick up his pack and felt Link's arms encircling him again, the Hero's hot breath ghosting over his neck.

"As do we," he whispered in a way that made Sheik shiver all over. "We should get started..."

It was impossible not to agree to that.

* * *

Lor didn't feel at home in the camp. It was not much of a surprise, but he knew it was going to make the little time he was planning on spending here very uncomfortable and awkward. It wasn't on account of the soldiers present. They'd heard about the events at Ironhill, apparently, and word hard spread about his involvement in getting the saboteurs out of the city. Wherever he went he got mostly respectful nods, maybe even a greeting. That was definitely a welcome change to the sneers of hate and grimaces of dislike...or rolled eyes of pleasure. He'd hated the latter the most.

No, it wasn't the people present. It was more the general...ambience, of the place, and the knowledge that he didn't really have anything in common with the inhabitants and their cause. He wasn't interested in the war. The only reason he'd helped them to begin with was because of Jeryd...oh, and Sheik, he supposed. The Sheikah had treated him kindly and that was enough reason to like him.

He shook his head. He was starting to confuse himself. But no, he was an assassin, and a mage, and had no interest in the war. Ergo, he did not belong here. He found the food line and took his place, eventually getting a big bowl of porridge that was surprisingly revitalising and delicious...but that was probably more because he and Sheik had been on the road for days and barely had any time to eat at all. He devoured the bowl quickly enough and decided to wander around some more.

The soldiers were surprisingly cheerful for an army that was fighting their own countrymen in a civil war. He supposed it was the good news about the airships that were keeping them in good spirits. It gave them a chance to actually fight back rather than just sit around and wait to be annihilated. Too bad Lor's own mood wasn't anywhere near as cheery as theirs. He missed Jeryd. There hadn't even been any real time to say goodbye properly. The time it had taken between the act of discovering the older man's injuries and him pushing them down into the tunnels underneath the city was so short, so filled with chaos.

The mere thought made him choke a little on his breath and forced him to seek out privacy lest he break out crying in the middle of the busiest street in the tent city. He made his way to the outskirts, close to the tree line and sat down on a tree stump, letting his tears fall unimpeded. It needed to come out sooner or later, and it was better to have it happen here than on the road where he needed to hide from both the Royal Army and the rest of the guild, who had no doubt heard about the guildhall in Ironhill burning to the ground.

Unfortunately, he wasn't afforded much time to grieve. He suddenly became aware of someone watching him, and he turned his head to look in the newcomer's direction. A boy, looking about his age, was standing a several feet away, staring at him with the most vividly green eyes Lor had ever seen. They practically glowed. A mask was covering the lower half of his face; much like Sheik's, and his head was covered in long hair that was silvery like the moonlight. It was quite beautiful, Lor thought. That wasn't enough to pardon him for the intrusion, though, and he scowled.

"What do you want?" he asked gruffly, wiping away the tears on his cheeks.

The boy cocked his head to the side, saying nothing. That was more annoying than any reply he might have come up with, in Lor's opinion, whose mood only worsened.

"I asked you a question," he said.

Again the newcomer remained silent, his eyes narrowing as he looked Lor up and down.

Unnerved, Lor stood up, intending to leave. "Fine, if you're going to play the mysterious bullshit card, I'm going—"

"You're a mage," the masked boy said suddenly, having apparently finished his appraisal of Lor.

"What?" he asked, confused. How could he have known?

"You're a mage," the boy repeated. "But something's wrong with you."

Lor snorted. "There are plenty of things wrong with me, take your pick." He wasn't about to take shit from some freak in a mask.

"It's like..." the boy said, trailing off, cocking his head even more to the side. "...Like you are being suppressed..."

"And how would you know that, exactly?" Lor demanded.

"Three guesses," the boy said, sounding annoyed. And then something seemed to... _flare_ from the boy's body, almost like an invisible wave of pure...force that struck Lor and nearly knocked him over. "I'm like you," the boy explained.

"You're...a mage too?" Lor asked, feeling like an idiot for asking a question to which he'd just gotten the answer. He had never had any training in magic use, and it had been a while since he'd even felt the energy thanks to the tattoo, but the power flowing from the green-eyed boy was unmistakably magic in nature.

"Yes," the boy said simply. "As are you. But _that_ ," he said, pointing at Lor's face, probably at the tattoo, "is interfering with your powers."

"Yeah," Lor said slowly, touching the ink. "They hired a mage to do it, forced me to comply...they didn't want me to use it."

The boy nodded, looking thoughtful as he stepped closer to Lor, studying the tattoo. To Lor's surprise, he didn't feel uncomfortable with the stranger invading his personal space, like he usually did. Instead he simply let the boy come closer and closer, reaching out a hand but not touching the design. It felt...strangely comforting. He wasn't all alone after all, it seemed.

After a little while of studying it, the boy stepped back, thought about something, then nodded. "I can remove it," he said.

"Wha-what?" Lor said, surprised.

"I can remove the suppressing field," the boy elaborated. "Can't do anything about the tattoo, but the enchantment...that I can get rid of. If you want." The boy managed to look bashful at the last part.

"I...uh...how?" Lor asked, feeling like the world was moving a bit too fast at the moment. First he'd betrayed the guild, then he'd lost Jeryd, then he'd become a fugitive and now he was suddenly going to be able to do magic again if this boy was speaking the truth.

"There's a spell in a book," the boy said. "I can do it." It was an odd emphasis, like he wanted to reassure Lor that he was truly a mage.

"O-Okay," Lor said, not really understanding what was happening but deciding to go with the flow. Things couldn't get any worse, really, so why not? Hell, unlocking his abilities could only be a good thing since it'd give him an extra edge when he had to escape from the guild. "Uh...can I see the spell?"

The boy nodded. "Follow me," he said and turned around, stalking off in a seemingly random direction. Lor quickly followed him, hoping that he wasn't just having him on.

"My name's Lorasi, by the way," he said, hoping to lessen the awkwardness between them.

The boy stopped, looked at him, nodded and spoke, "I'm Ard."

* * *

**Soul Remnants  
Chapter 59**

* * *

When Sheik woke up that morning, he felt nothing but pure bliss. The feeling of Link's strong arms around him, holding him tightly, almost like he was afraid that Sheik would suddenly vanish, made him feel safe. That was something he missed a lot these days. There were so few...opportunities for this. Granted, they were in the middle of a war, and that would of course present a lot of difficulties, but still...

Link shifted in his sleep, drawing his lover tighter to his body. Sheik smiled. Link had been quite...forward last night. He _was_ usually the one who instigated and took a leading role when they were making love, but yesterday had been...different, somehow. It was like he was trying to prove something. Had Sheik been a more paranoid individual...or, _more_ of a paranoid individual (he had no self-delusions regarding that specific part of his personality), he would half-suspect that Link _knew_ about the kiss Sheik and Jeryd had shared. He quickly banished the thought, though, because how would Link even have found out about it, unless he had followed them the entire time?

"Mornin'..." Link murmured, revealing that he was awake after all.

"You're getting better at fooling me," Sheik murmured back, turning around in Link's arms and placing a chaste kiss on the Hero's lips. "I thought you were still asleep."

"I was, up until ten seconds ago," Link replied, giving Sheik a kiss back. He let Sheik go for a second to stretch, wincing slightly.

Sheik looked at him. He'd done that during their activities in the night as well. "What's wrong?" he asked.

Link paused, then shook his head slightly. "Back's stiff," he said. "Been that way for the past few days."

"I see," Sheik said, nodding, feeling slightly suspicious, which in turn made him feel guilty for being suspicious. If someone had truly earned the right to have Sheik's full trust, it was the Hero. And yet...he hadn't seen a hundred per cent truth in Link's eyes as he had spoken, and that was enough to set off warning lights in his mind. He said nothing, however. He didn't want to start a fight over what could possibly be nothing. Maybe Link had injured himself at some point and was too embarrassed to tell him? That was not worth jeopardizing their current happiness over. He was too to remove the suspicious look from his eyes, however.

Link seemed to take Sheik's expression as something different, however, and kissed Sheik again. "I'm sorry about Jeryd," he said gently, resting his forehead against Sheik's. "I know you were close friends...I liked him..."

Sheik sighed. "Yeah..." He wasn't sure of what else to say. He'd put Jeryd's death out of his mind the minutes after they had left Ironhill, but he'd continually thought about the older man as they made their escape to the camp. In a way, he had processed and gotten over Jeryd's passing on the road, which seemed a bit disrespectful, but on the other hand he supposed Jeryd would not have wanted Sheik to fall apart and get killed because of it.

 _Should I tell him about the kiss?_ he asked himself. Now would be a good a time as any, really, but...what would happen if he did? Link would get angry, positively livid, probably. So, no, it was not a good idea.

The bell that signalled breakfast was being served rang out across the camp. It promptly triggered some horrible, animalistic noise to come from Link's stomach, setting the Hero blushing from top to toe. Sheik couldn't stop himself from bursting with laughter, practically rolling on the floor as Link continued blushing, crossing his arms and pouting at his lover.

"It's not funny," the Hero said. "I haven't eaten since lunchtime yesterday, okay? I was busy trying to get Kafei to get some rest."

"I'm sorry," Sheik said, wiping tears from his eyes. "I'm sorry, it's just...I didn't know you were able to produce sounds like that, and I've known you for a while now!"

"Hmph," Link grunted.

Raising his arms in a gesture of goodwill, Sheik stood up. "Okay, okay, I am sorry for laughing," he said. "To make up for it, I'll go get us breakfast."

"That's the least I expect," Link said, snorting.

"Since when were you such a diva?" Sheik said jokingly, still chuckling from the sound Link had made. He threw one his clothes and made himself look somewhat presentable. "I'll be right back," he told the Hero and left the tent, making his way towards the food station at a leisurely pace (for more than one reason), feeling almost cheery. He made a note to look for Lor in order to say goodbye to the boy before he left.

He stood in the long line to receive the morning meal, nodding to several soldiers that he recognised and seemed to recognise him in return. Everyone must have known what the saboteurs had done in Ironhill by now. If Sheik had been a big drinker, he was certain he could get his tab paid for in every bar in Lumina once the war was over. Maybe he could give that benefit to someone else that would appreciate it...

His good mood was soon to be spoiled, however, as he heard someone cut into the line behind him.

"Do you mind?" the smooth voice asked—more like _told_ —the person who'd originally been behind Sheik, the tone implying that trouble would be had if a fuss was made. The person backed down, and Sheik shook his head, wondering why this had to happen now, of all times. "Well, well, well, if it isn't blondie number two."

Sheik rolled his eyes and turned around, coming face to face with Sir Iteos, who was looking particularly wolfish that day. "Sir Iteos, good morning," he replied curtly. "Surprised to see you here."

"And why is that?" Iteos asked.

"From what I've gathered about you and your, er, company, you have your own food station in _your_ part of the camp," Sheik answered. "Makes me wonder why you would come here. Feeling like slumming it for a bit?"

"Interesting to hear that from a nobleman such as yourself," Iteos replied. "You've been doing nothing _but_ slumming since you came to this kingdom, by the sounds of it." He grinned, looking Sheik up and down appreciatively. "But to answer your question, I felt like a change of scenery, and the scenery is looking particularly ravishing today."

Sheik shivered. The man was absolutely shameless, wasn't he?

"I'm surprised you're even able to appreciate the...scenery anymore," Sheik replied. "Given all the others you've been...enjoying, you'd have caught some exotic disease that would make you blind at this point."

Iteos chuckled. "That was a terrible metaphor."

"I'm tired," Sheik said, shrugging. "And therefore, not interested in bandying words with a... _gentleman_ such as yourself." He made sure to add as much venom to the word as possible. Then he turned around and tried to ignore the mercenary, but he had no such luck. Iteos clicked his tongue, and Sheik could practically _feel_ the man's eyes roaming over him again. At least he wasn't wearing the skin-tight exoskeleton—he didn't like the idea of wearing something _that_ revealing around the lecherous knight.

"Hm, I don't mind that, I can appreciate the scenery from any angle, me," Iteos said.

The line moved forward a few paces, far too slow to Sheik's liking.

"Tell me, blondie," Iteos said, "is it just me or are you walking a bit...sorely today?"

Sheik rolled his eyes. "Perhaps I am. I spent most of yesterday riding—"

"Mmmm, I'm sure you did," Iteos muttered, reaching out.

The second his hand cupped Sheik's bottom, he suddenly found himself on his knees with his arm twisted painfully around his back. Sheik had a good grip on his wrist and a knee placed at the small of his back. The slightest movement on Iteos' part resulted in Sheik bending his arm even more.

"I take exception to someone touching me without my explicit permission," Sheik said into Iteos' ear. "One tiny movement on my part, and your arm is a broken mess. Are we going to have repeated incidents like this?"

"You little—argh!" Iteos' sentence was cut off as Sheik twisted even more.

"I asked you a question," Sheik whispered.

"Agh, fuck, no!" Iteos said. He fell flat on his face in the snow when Sheik let go, shoving him forward with his knee. He glared daggers at the Sheikah as he stood up, rubbing his arm. "You're going to regret this," he warned.

"Oh, believe me," Sheik said, shrugging, "I've regretted meeting since day one." With that, he turned back around to face the food station, prepared to take action should Iteos try to retaliate.

To his credit, the man reined in his anger and ignored the mocking laughter from the Luminan soldiers around them. They had clearly enjoyed the show. Iteos snorted. "I was prepared to honour the deal I had with your little loverboy there, but that's completely off now." With that he stalked away, presumably to lick his wounds in the mercenary part of the camp.

Sheik was left standing with a raised eyebrow, wondering what on earth he had meant by "the deal". In a second, the suspicion he had felt about Link that morning, which had been able to suppress quite effectively up till now, resurfaced and increased in strength. He felt an overwhelming urge to rush back to their tent and demand what the hell had happened while he was gone, but he fought it down, knowing that anger would not be a good thing to add to the mix. He forced himself to get back in the line, figuring that he and Link would be much better suited to talk about this with full stomachs.

 _ **Well, it seems my lighter counterpart has been up to funny business,**_ Speil said, sounding positively delighted, which he probably was. _**I suppose I should be shocked, but...I know him better than anyone, and I knew this was inevitable.**_

 _Shut the hell up!_ Sheik thought. _I'm not interested in what you think about this!_

Speil chuckled. _**Oh, no, I am not going to let this slide. I have never been more amused by anything than this. Or, well, there was the time when I had you practically eating out of my hand, but that was delightful in a different way. Oh no, this is practically a betrayal!**_

 _We don't know anything about that deal,_ Sheik reminded himself, accidentally thinking "we". _For all I know, Link could simply have told him to stay away._

_**Yes, because Iteos strikes us both as someone who will simply agree to a deal like that. There must have been...collateral. Even you know that.** _

_Shut up! One more peep out of you and I'm going to Ard to have the seal removed so I can kill you again and again!_

He almost expected the shadow to ignore his warning completely, but the threat clearly worked. His mind blissfully silent again, he practically tore the bowls out of the cook's hands before heading back to the tent, his mind full of questions he intended to ask the Hero of Time.

* * *

Rial was also in the middle of breakfast when Sid suddenly appeared in his tent (he had a habit of doing that), grinning from ear to ear. This worried Rial. Sid was never "happy" as such, but he took a sadistic glee from events that harmed the enemy, and judging by his mood right now, whatever had befallen Rehm and his forces must be massive. It was surely a good thing for the rebels, but Rial didn't want the war to tear the whole country apart to the point where it wouldn't be able to rebuild itself.

"What happened now?" he asked with a mouthful of bacon.

"Ye're never gonna guess," Sid said, still grinning.

"Fine, I won't guess, then."

Sid snorted. "It is nothin' _but_ good news, Cap'n."

"Then let's hear it."

Sid unfurled the map of Lumina on Rial's desk and stuck a knife into the spot that marked the southernmost gate into Lumina.

"My scouts tell me tha', approximately one week ago, a massive army turned up outside th' gate, demandin' to be let in."

Rial quickly swallowed his food, sitting up attentively. "Who?" he asked.

"They were flyin' Lumina's colours, apart from a smaller auxillary unit that was flyin' the colours o' Hyrule." Sid's grin could have split his face at this point. "Th' Princess an' General Mirn are coming."

"They're too early," Rial said, shoving his plate away. "Once word of this reaches Rehm, he'll annihilate them with _The Chimera_!"

"Which is why I've taken th' liberty of runnin' a little _interference_ in the meantime," Sid said. "My boys are interceptin' every runner 'n messenger sent from th' gate. They are runnin' out of supplies, so it shouldn't take long for 'em to fall. Th' interference won't last forever, tho', so if ye're interested in runnin' with the plan, it's best to do it now."

Rial considered the situation for a few minutes before nodding. "You're right, every second we waste on taking down the airship is a second more for them to destroy our only hope to win." He looked at Sid. "Gather your men. I'll alert Tadian and the others."

"Yes, sir," Sid said, doing a bad impression of a salute. "An' before I leave, there's somethin' else. My birdies tell me tha' a party of travellers are makin' their way here from Caldhaven."

"Ise?"

"I dunno, the birdies didn't get close enough."

"That was surprisingly quick, you only sent the runner yesterday."

"Sent my best bird."

"Well, better prepare a proper reception for them, just in case she's decided to visit personally." He paused. "Heard anything from the mercenaries?"

"No, the birdie I sent ain't th' fastest, but it'll get results all the same."

"Very well, then. Let me know when you hear something, all right?"

"Sure thing, Cap'n."

This war was playing hell with his nerves, Rial decided as he was on his way towards Jedistern Tadian's laboratory, a veritable patchwork of different tents sewn together with all kinds of strange apparatuses protruding from the roof, some of them occasionally belching smoke like a factory. Rial often feared that the smoke would give them away from the air, but the engineer had assured him that it dispersed too soon for anyone to see it. This morning, however, no smoke came from the chimney-like things. There was, however, a loud buzz coming from within the tent, which seemed to fill Rial's head to the brim as he stepped inside. The place smelled like oil and metal, the air thick and heavy.

The buzzing was even louder now, and his body tingled with some sort of unseen energy. Was this the magic that Sheik and the others could feel?

He couldn't see Jedistern anywhere, so he cleared his throat loudly and called, his voice nearly drowned out by the buzzing sound. "Tadian, are you in here?!"

"Ah, General," Jedistern said as he appeared from behind the biggest metal coil Rial had ever seen. The engineer was wearing safety goggles and protective clothes. He was holding a thick, black, rope-like string that seemed to run in behind the coil, seemingly connected to it, in one hand, while the other held a glass sphere with a metal bottom. "Good to see you. I want to thank you again for letting me continue my workshop activities here in your camp!"

"No time for pleasantries, Tadian, I—"

"Look, you came just in time!" Jedistern said, hurrying towards him with the items. "If this works, I will have revolutionised the way we look at energy forever!"

Rial stepped back nervously. Energy meant power, power usually meant explosions in Jedistern's case.

"Oh, come now, General! It's not dangerous! Or, well, it's dangerous if you touch these without wearing protective gear, but I will deal with that! Look!" Without further ado, Jedistern touched the rope against the metal base of the bulb. What happened then made Rial gasp. The bulb lit up, like a tiny, intense fire had been lit at the very centre of it, the brightness so intense that it hurt to look directly at it. Jedistern laughed, whooping like a little boy. "It worked! It ruddy worked!"

"What was that?" Rial asked after Jedistern separated the items again. Instead of answering, the engineer whooped a little more before running back behind the coil. The buzzing sound suddenly stopped, leaving Rial suddenly feeling deaf.

"That, General, is my newest innovation," Jedistern said when he emerged from behind the coil again. "I have harnessed the power of lightning, and so have made a new energy source! Just imagine how much money and resources could be saved on lighting streets with these—"he gestured with the sphere—"instead of wood-consuming torches or expensive gas lights!"

Fascinating as it was, time was of the essence, so Rial held up a hand to stop the engineer before he got carried away. "This looks very interesting, Tadian, but we have a bit of an emergency and I have called an immediate meeting. We need to remove the airship from the equation _immediately_!"

The engineer looked disappointed that he wouldn't get to explain his new invention, but nodded. "I see...very well, I will do my part."

"We need to start planning right away, so come with me to the command tent," Rial said, motioning for him to follow. On the way back, he was regaled with Jedistern's struggles to overcome the many obstacles in harnessing the lightning, as he claimed to have done. As usual, the technical terms went far above his head.

* * *

**Soul Remnants**

**Chapter 60**

* * *

Link smiled widely as Sheik stepped inside their tent with the two steaming bowls, pulling on his tunic. Sheik rolled his eyes.

"Didn't get out of before now, huh? Mighty Hero," Sheik said, handing him one of the bowls and sitting down in a cross-legged position, pulling down his mask to eat.

"Technically, I'm still _in_ bed," Link pointed out. Then he frowned a little. "How are you feeling today? You walk—"

"I'm fine, just a little sore," Sheik assured him.

"Okay," Link replied, still feeling a little guilty. He _had_ been a little...eager last night when they had been together. Sheik had seemed to enjoy it well enough at the time, but after Link saw the slight limp in the Sheikah's step he'd regretted it. He had just been so happy to be with Sheik again. The memories of the night with Iteos still made him shudder, and he wanted to block it all out by replacing them with memories of being with Sheik.

And it had worked, because instead of dreaming about the horrid face of Iteos looming over him, like he ha done almost every night since...then, all he saw in his dreams was the smiling face of his Sheikah. It had been the most peaceful night of sleep he'd had since Sheik had left for Ironhill. It had put him in such a good mood that it seemed like nothing could possibly go wrong that morning.

He wanted Sheik to tell him what had happened in Ironhill, but he couldn't imagine that Sheik would want to talk about it. Jeryd's death was probably still fresh in his mind, and he wanted the current peace they were enjoying to last.

They finished the meal in comfortable silence. Not even Link's loudmouth of a stomach decided to interfere, which was a relief since it had ruined one moment already.

"I met Iteos in the line."

It turned out that one sentence was more than enough.

Link knew he had failed to keep himself from reacting. The mere mention of the man's name was enough to send shivers down his back, but not the good kind. His stomach lurched, the fact that it had just been filled not helping in the slightest. Whatever memories of Sheik he'd used to squash Iteos' presence in his mind were immediately ruined as the sounds of the knight's panting and grunting filled his ears. Link clenched his jaw, willing them away, realising too late that Sheik had seen all he needed to see. He looked at the Sheikah, seeing a steely expression in his crimson eyes.

"What kind of deal did you and him make?" Sheik asked slowly, his gaze so focused, so intense that Link couldn't bear to look him in the eyes. It was a gaze he had hoped to never again find himself on the wrong side of, because it was _terrifying_.

He wanted to lie, wanted to assure Sheik that nothing had happened at all. He couldn't imagine how it would feel to find out something like this, but he doubted it was any better than he himself was feeling right now. Sheik wouldn't be happy, but right now it seemed like happiness was but a dream. And not telling the truth...not only was the though abhorrent to Link, but it would also most likely make things even worse, especially if his lie was found out.

So he forced himself to look back at Sheik, finding it almost impossible to meet the stare.

"Link?"

"Do...do you remember what Iteos was like, when we first met him?" Link asked, starting from the very beginning, figuring it was best. When Sheik nodded, he continued, "He was all creepy and gross. When you were gone, I was sparring with Rial, he came to watch. There was...a challenge, and he suggested a bet."

"What kind of bet?" Sheik's eyes narrowed even further.

"If...I won," he said, his throat feeling like it was swelling up with how difficult it was to say this, "he would stop being creepy around...well, us...and Ard."

Sheik's hard expression softened a little at the mention of the mage's name, but there was still a definite edge to it. "And if you lost?"

"I...I would..."

The silence was almost much worse than actually saying it. Link could see Sheik thinking, see the connections being made, the slow dawning of realisation spreading across his face. He blinked when the conclusion was reached, and Link knew he didn't need to say it.

"You...and him...?" Sheik asked slowly, his mouth falling open ever so slightly. It was the biggest fall in composure Link had ever seen on the Sheikah when he was acting like this. That hurt even worse.

"It was just for one night," Link said hurriedly, waving his hands despite knowing how futile it was to actually explain the situation in a way that would inspire confidence and trust. "And I didn't want to, but—"

"So let me get this straight," Sheik interrupted him, a neutral mask carefully sliding into place in front of the outraged expression on his face. "You...and Iteos...were...together?" he asked. "As in...sleeping together?"

Link didn't want to, but nodded. And the way Sheik kept himself completely calm, with not even a twitch of his mouth betraying his true feelings, hurt Link even more than if his lover had thrown a fit and gone berserk. It meant that the complete trust Sheik had had in Link, the trust that made him able to truly be himself around the Hero, no matter how ugly he considered that part of himself, was gone. Link knew the anguish he was feeling, but Sheik refused to let it out. It was like they were back to step one.

"I'm sorry."

Sheik stood up slowly, deliberately avoiding looking at Link's face. He pulled up his mask, and Link felt like a knife had just been stabbed into his heart. The Hero stood up as well, but didn't do anything else. What happened now was on Sheik.

"I...need to go feed Shun," Sheik announced. And made to walk out. Link reached out for him, trying to grab his shoulder, trying to get him to stay, but was shocked when his hand was slapped away, Sheik whirling around to face him. The tears—of rage or sorrow or sadness, Link didn't know—gathering in the Sheikah's eyes stopped him from trying to stop him again. "Link...just...no." With that he was gone, the cold morning air seeping in through the flap.

I should go after him, Link thought. I have to explain everything, how it happened, how...

But his body refused to listen. Instead his legs fell out from under him, and despair settled over him like a blanket, his chest hurting like someone had stomped on it.

* * *

 _ **You have an interesting definition of "feeding the horse",**_ Speil said as Sheik stalked through the camp, his mind a whirling vortex of conflicting thoughts. His stomach churned with every emotion under the sun, it seemed, but chief among them was anger. Anger at Iteos for doing what he did, angry with Link for having agreed to such a stupid bet in the first, but most of all he was anger at himself for not realising what had happened in the first place and snapping the bastard's arm in the breakfast line.

 _ **I wouldn't have stopped at his arm,**_ the shadow continued, ignoring the lack of response from Sheik. _**I would have broken every bone in his body.**_ _**And then I'd slit his throat.**_

 _Oh believe me, I'm tempted,_ Sheik thought. He rounded a corner and saw his destination. Iteos' flag waved from an improvised pole in the middle of their little enclave. Several strong and dangerous-looking mercenaries were guarding the gate into their little town. He went down another street, following the side of the enclave, noticing that a wooden fence had been put up to separate themselves further from the rest of the camp. He easily slid underneath it, crouching behind a few supply crates.

_**Then why not do it? It would certainly be justified.** _

Most of the men were still asleep, the enclave running on its own schedule with regards to meals and routines. That was good. It still being slightly dark also helped Sheik as he slid from tent to tent, ducking from cover to cover.

 _Because I don't advice from the thing that killed me,_ Sheik thought. He followed the flag. Of course the damn thing would be flying over his own tent. How much of a prick could on person possibly be?

 _ **Cheap shot,**_ Speil grumbled.

 _But accurate,_ Sheik shot back. He slipped past the guards around Iteos' tent and slid around the back of it. He sat and listened. He heard no activity inside but the crinkling of paper. _Reading_ , Sheik thought. _Military man, probably used to not having his back to potential openings. Means he is facing the entrance, won't be expecting something from behind the "wall"._

Satisfied with his own reasoning, Sheik drew a dagger and swiftly cut through the tent fabric, creating an opening just large enough for himself. He parted it slightly and looked inside with his working eye, seeing exactly what he had expected—Iteos sitting in a chair, his back to Sheik's improvised door, nose deep in some sort of report. Sheik slipped inside as quietly as he could, making sure that no light entered the tent from behind him.

_**Stab him in the back!** _

Sheik crept forward until he was right behind Iteos, could hear the man's breath, the sound of his lips smacking together as he mouthed the words he was reading to himself. Apparently the man was not much a reader. To his credit, the man had situational awareness enough to realise that someone was standing behind him. Too bad that Sheik's dagger was already at his throat by that time.

"Call for your guards and face your death," Sheik said quietly, almost in a seductive whisper into the man's ear. "I'll be decorating the tent with your blood if you do."

"Should've known you wouldn't let it slide," Iteos said, sighing and dropping the expenditure report, as it turned out to be, on the table. "How'd you find out? Little Hero tell you?"

"Not in as many words," Sheik replied.

"And now you're here to kill me in retaliation?" Iteos asked, snorting. "Far as I remember, blondie made that bet willingly, and lost fair and square. Anything I did to him was part of our deal. He gave himself to me willingly—"

"Bullshit," Sheik hissed, pressing the blade of his dagger harder into the skin of Iteos' throat, causing the man to tense up. "There are many things in this world I don't know, _sir knight_ , but there is one thing I can say with absolute certainty, and that is that Link would never, _ever_ do something like this willingly. It may have been part of the deal, but I can guarantee you that he was fighting it with every inch of his being the entire time."

"Heh, and so it seemed at first," Iteos said. "But I made it worth his while, I promise you that. Had him eating out of my hand by the end, begging for it. He makes such adorable sounds when he is getting into it...almost like a bitch in heat—"

"One more word, and your walls are getting a fresh coat of paint," Sheik hissed again, this time drawing a little blood from Iteos' neck.

Iteos chuckled despite the pain. "I thought that was why you're here to begin with."

"No," Sheik said, shaking his head. "You're needed in the army, unfortunately, so I'll let you live for now."

"How gracious you are, little boy," Iteos said. "But with this little 'meeting', my deal with blondie is off. You're all fair game to me again, and—whoa!"

Sheik's second dagger stopped him from finishing the sentence, especially when the blade came dangerously close to his manhood.

"Actually, the deal is still on," Sheik warned. "One word, one move, _one look_ at either me, Link, Ard or anyone else again, and I will come back and cut your cock and balls off and feed them to the pigs. Is that understood?"

Sheik allowed Iteos to turn his head so they were looking at each other's faces. "You've got balls, kid," Iteos said. "Making a threat like that in the middle of my own lair, surrounded by men loyal to me. One word from me and you're dead."

"Not before you're temporarily a eunuch before your throat is cut," Sheik reminded him. "Alert your guards, and neither of us is leaving this place alive."

"How I would love to know what it's like to have you. Must be a little spitfire in bed—okay, okay, just put the knife away."

"Swear."

"Fucking kids...all right, I swear to uphold my end of the deal," Iteos said, glaring at him. "But know this, boy: you've made a dangerous enemy today, and should the chance ever present itself, I will show you every bit of pain and suffering I've made them all go through...and I will make you _like_ it!"

"Remember: eunuch."

That was what Sheik left him with, slipping out of Iteos' tent and vaulting over the fence behind it. As simple as that, and he was out of the mercenary enclave.

_**Should've known you would chicken out. You always were a coward.** _

_My intention was never to kill him, despite how much I wish it was. Fact is he is still useful to the rebels, and Rial needs as many troops as he can get. With Iteos dead, the mercenaries will leave, maybe even join up with Rehm, and with all their inside knowledge of the rebel army, that would be catastrophic,_ Sheik thought.

_**Again with the rebels this and rebels that. I don't see why you should give a shit about what happens to them. It's not your fight.** _

_Wish I could answer that question myself,_ Sheik thought, concentrating on calming himself. Slowly, Speil's voice faded until he could no longer hear it. _So that's it,_ he thought.

That was the key. Speil seemed to be able to speak to him through the seal whenever Sheik was upset or feeling strong emotions. It was like...Speil's words rode on those feelings, disguising themselves until they reached Sheik's mind, where they unfolded like the sonic venom they felt like. But now, now that Sheik had forced himself to feel calm, suppressing all the negative emotions that were welling up inside, he was able to keep the shadow's invasive presence out of his mind.

It helped him think, as well. Helped him focus. Helped him look at the situation with Link and Iteos from a perspective that didn't involve him. And it helped him realise that he was not angry with Link for sleeping with Iteos—from this perspective it looked more like coercion and, subsequently, rape. No, he wasn't angry at Link for that. He was angry at Link because he had assumed that Sheik needed help to keep Iteos away from them. He was more than capable of dealing with Iteos, like he had just proved, and Link himself...well, his shell was strong enough to keep away the strongest of approaches from the mercenary. As for Ard...Sheik had a feeling that the mage would incinerate anyone who tried to do something he didn't want them to. That would actually be something he'd like to see.

The anger he felt with Link, though, that was a bit harder to fight down. Hadn't Sheik proven himself more than capable of protecting and looking after himself without Link there to protect him? It was like Link thought he was weak, unable to cope with the harsh realities of war...when it was actually Sheik who was more of a veteran between them. Link had spent seven years sleeping blissfully while Sheik was fighting to protect Zelda, often having to do unspeakable things to accomplish that.

No, if anything, Link needed someone to look after _him_ , despite his Hero status.

He paused, his train of thought starting to run down a track he didn't much like.

Then he remembered Jeryd, and the kiss they had shared, and how it had made him feel. And the overwhelming guilt he had felt afterwards.

 _I suppose I'm not innocent in this either,_ he thought, his cheeks reddening with shame.

He came to a decision that moment, one that both made him happy and scared him, mostly because he had no idea what the outcome would be. But this was no time to let his own cowardice get the better of him.

* * *

Link didn't know how much time had passed since Sheik had left, but it felt like ages. He was waiting for him to come back, so they could properly talk about what had happened. He knew Sheik, knew that he often needed to cool down before coherent thoughts would let him handle things in a logical and calm...

He sighed. He was trying to fool himself. There was no chance of anyone thinking logically in this. There was too much emotion involved. He could only hope that Sheik would not do anything rash, such as taking it to Iteos and...

Oh no, he thought and got to his feet. He wouldn't. He raced to the flap, intent on stopping the Sheikah before he did something _that_ stupid and—stopped in his tracks when Sheik suddenly came back inside, his mask lowered. He had an apologetic expression on his face.

"We need to talk," he said. "Please sit."

Link did so, feeling uneasy. Again he would have preferred an angry Sheik to a calm Sheik.

"You did," Sheik said," something immensely stupid in making that bet."

Link lowered his head in shame, but was surprised to find Sheik's hand raising it again.

"But," the Sheikah continued, "I recognise that your intentions were well meant, and for that I have right to be angry with you. I'm slightly upset that you didn't think that I would be able to fend off Iteos by myself, but not as upset as I am with him for what he did to you. I paid him a little visit just now—"

"What?"

"—and I have his word on that he will leave us alone from now on," Sheik finished, ignoring Link's question. "Just stay away from him, all right?"

Link nodded. "Don't need to tell me twice."

"Good," Sheik said and took a seat opposite of him, giving him a slight smile.

"So..." Link began. "Am I forgiven?"

Sheik shook his head. "No."

"What, but you said—"

"I can't forgive you because there is nothing to forgive in the first place, Link," Sheik said, bowing his head. "I reacted too quickly when you first told me, let my anger get the better of me. You were simply trying to protect me, and I have no right to be angry with you for that."

Link couldn't believe his own ears. This was no the way he had imagined this conversation to go at all.

"Thank you," was all he managed to say. A big smile spread on his face, but it faded soon enough when Sheik frowned. "What's wrong?" he asked.

"I have a...confession to make," Sheik said hesitantly. "One that will...probably make you hate me."

Link leaned forward and rested his forehead against Sheik's. "Nothing you could ever do would make me hate you, Sheik."

"I believe I have found one thing that will," Sheik said, pulling away from him. "Before we entered Ironhill to sabotage the airships, we spent the night at an inn Jeryd was familiar with."

Link straightened up. He hadn't expected Sheik to talk about Jeryd this quickly, and knew this was important and deadly serious.

"We talked a lot, that night, he and I," Sheik continued. "And he talked about how he...felt, about me."

Link leaned forward attentively. "Felt?"

"He was...in love with me," Sheik said, obviously struggling with what he was saying. "And then he kissed me."

Link was surprised by his own lack of reaction to that. He had had his suspicions about the way Jeryd had felt about Sheik, but he hadn't expected the young man to act on it. He was surprised he wasn't angry, but he supposed he himself subconsciously knew it was pointless to bear anger towards a dead man. Besides, he could not blame Jeryd for falling for Sheik. He had done it too, after all.

"And I kissed him back."

That threw a wrench into the works and caused Link to widen his eyes in surprise. He hadn't expected that.

"You...kissed him?"

"I couldn't control myself," Sheik said nervously, standing up and beginning to pace around the tent. "Did I like him? Maybe a little bit. I mean, I must have, I kissed back, so of course I must have bloody felt something in return, but that doesn't make any sense at all because I have you and that should be enough and—"

Link stood up and put both his hands on Sheik's shoulders, stopping his pacing. "Sheik, you're babbling, stop it," he said firmly. He wasn't going to be any worse at this than Sheik.

"Okay, okay," Sheik said, taking a deep breath. "I...I kissed him back," he said again. "But I stopped us before things progressed, because I have you...I love you, and I didn't love him. I-I liked him, but not...like that."

Link shook his head and put his hands on each side of Sheik's face so they were facing each other completely, and stared into his eyes. "Answer me this completely honestly, Sheik," he said. "Did you like him?"

Sheik nodded. "Yes," he said, voice cracking a little as new tears began to gather in his eyes. It almost killed Link on the spot.

"Did you love him?" Link continued. "Really think, and then answer."

Sheik did so for quite some time before finally shaking his head. "No."

That made Link feel much better. "And do you love _me_?"

Sheik didn't even hesitate this time. "Yes. With all my heart."

Link leaned in closer. "Then I have nothing to forgive you for either," he said before pressing his lips to Sheik's.


	7. Chapter 7

* * *

**Soul Remnants**

**Chapter 61**

* * *

"...and that is it. With the success of this plan, we will have the advantage against Rehm, for once," Rial finished, looking at the gathered men in the command tent. There were only about 14, including Sid, but these would relay the instructions to the ones under _their_ command, with the strict instructions not to tell anyone else. Rial didn't like not trusting his own men, but some things needed to be secret until he could be absolutely sure that there were no spies in the camp. He kept an especially close eye on the representative for Iteos, who seemed like a very shifty sort. Not that he trusted anyone in Iteos' camp to begin with. That was why he had Sid follow him all the way back to the enclave, just in case.

He watched the men leave before sitting down at his desk, taking a look at the map he had scribbled on as he had described the plan to the men. It was not a particularly devious or clever plan, he knew. In fact, it was downright unoriginal and sure to draw some disapproving glances from the great generals of the ages, but for some reason he had a strong feeling it would work. He had no idea why, but there was a certain...good feeling he got from looking at it. Jedistern had agreed that it would most likely work as well, and he had developed the security routines to begin with, so he would know.

He looked around the command tent. The place was getting messier by the day, despite the fact that he regularly took it down and put it up every few days of the week as the camp moved. For the longest time he had been sure that Riveth and—by extension—he had some sort of assistant or servant that cleaned things up that he never noticed...which, if that was the case, filled him with a deep shame.

"Ard? Are you here?" he asked out loud.

No, it had turned out to be Ard who went about making sure the command headquarters were in a somewhat presentable state. Rial had no idea if the mage had done this the entire time since he and his brother had joined up with Riveth and her forces, but if he had, then he felt even worse about it.

Speaking of Ard, Rial had not seen him in a while. Not that Ard was an easy person to spot if he didn't want to be spotted, but at least he had come to the tent at night to sleep and have his meals. What he did during the day when not doing something for or visiting Riveth or gathering some intelligence for Rial, he was just...not there. He was sort of like Sheik in that regard, in that he could just fade away until the time he wanted to come back to the foreground. Except Ard was a lot less scary in general.

A shadow appeared in the doorway and he looked up at Sid, who noddded.

"Didn't as much as look at any of th' others, went straight t'the bastard's tent," the spy said. "No security leak there."

Rial nodded. "Good to know. The last thing we need right now is for someone to leak our plan. This is our only chance to make some headway in this war."

"Made plenty o' headway so far, I'd say," Sid protested. "Th' Ironhill incident alone—"

"Wasn't done by us, but outside...er...'contractors'," Rial said, wondering how best to put it. "But I get your point. With this score, we will have the upper hand. Rehm will finally fear us, like he should have done from the beginning."

"He'll be shakin' in his breeches by the time word o' this reaches 'im."

"And the day we have him at our swords won't come a day too soon," Rial said, almost grinning at the thought. Oh, the fun he would have with that... "Anyway, there was something I wanted you to do."

"Aye?"

"Find Ard. I'm not saying bring him here or anything, just find out where he is and what he is doing and report back. I'm worried about him."

"I think the wee mage can take care of himself," Sid said, but nodded. "I'll do it right away." He stopped in the doorway. "Oh, and before I forget: the riders from Caldhaven should be arrivin' by midday, by my calculations."

"That fast?"

"Their business must be urgent."

"I'll have the preparations for their reception started immediately. In the meantime, I'll be in the sick tent. I'm sure my aunt will appreciate some updates on the situation."

"I'll find ye there."

They parted and Rial made his way to the field hospital, nodding his greetings to Agneta and Angen, who were having their break outside the door. They seemed to be deep in conversation, barely having time to return his greeting before returning to the intense concentration they were showing. Rial shrugged, knowing that what they were discussing was probably way above his pay grade. Not that any of them had any pay grades at the moment, being rebels had a tendency to cut short the cash flow from the official coffers, but the principle of the thing remained. Fact was that Rial knew nothing about medicine, and based on the things he saw inside the hospital, he didn't want to know anything either.

Inside it was warm and sterile-smelling, as always. The heat was, as always in a freezing winter like now, comforting. It was a relief to know that, while they had to be on the move at all times, at least the sick and wounded had an opportunity to be warm.

He found Riveth being, as always, rather spirited for someone who was dying slowly and surely of a terrible lung disease. She was, in fact, arm wrestling with one of the other wounded. The man had lost his leg below the knee and taken a nasty blow to the head judging by the bandages around it, but was putting up a good fight against the old gal. And she wasn't even holding back this time, but going full force.

He leaned against a beam, watching the entertainment. The struggle went back forth for a little while until the one-legged man was brought off-balance by a powerful tug from Riveth and was nearly thrown out of his chair. She looked rather embarrassed at that and apologised profusely, but the man wouldn't have it, thanking her for a good fight and heading back to his bed.

"Should you be doing that?" Rial asked, sitting down in the chair previously occupied by the wounded man. "Beating up crippled men?"

"He challenged me, not the other way around," she protested, coughing slightly. She wiped her mouth with a handkerchief, which Rial couldn't help but notice was full of bloodstains. She noticed him looking at it, and put it away. "Disease is progressing faster," she explained. "Agneta says my lungs will be filling up with blood soon, drowning me. How ironic is that?"

"Sounds more fucked up than anything else," Rial said, shuddering at the thought of drowning in his own blood. "Isn't there anything that can be done?"

"Not at this point," she said, shrugging. "Only option for me is to off myself before I get too weak to do it. Or have someone else do it, but I'm not all that fond of that idea. I'd like to be in control...if such a thing were to happen." She paused, looking at him. "Actually, there is a third option."

"And that is?" Rial asked.

"Order me into battle and hope that I croak after taking down as many of the fuckers as possible," she said with a grin that told Rial she was anything but joking. "That's a true warrior's fate."

"I'll...see what I can do," Rial said. "There aren't any major offensives coming up in a while—"

"Bullshit," she interrupted him. "I was just told that a whole bunch of officers were called to your tent to discuss some strategy. If that's not planning something big than I don't know what is. Tell me."

Rial shook his head. "Heh, that's actually what I came to tell you. Sid has it on good authority that Princess Zelda of Hyrule and General Mirn have arrived at the southern gate and are causing a big hubbub."

"That is certainly good news," Riveth said. "But that also means that the time to take out the remaining airship has to be pushed forward. That is what you were discussing with the officers, yes?"

He nodded. "Yeah, the plan isn't pretty, but I have faith in it. Thanks to Tadian we also know exactly where the airship will be in a week. That's when we'll do it."

"Care to share the details?"

"Before you ask, no, I won't order you to help with it," he said. "For the simple reason that the plan relies on no one recognising us. Your face is just too famous for it to work."

"Yeah, yeah, details please."

So he told her about his strategy, asked her for help in plugging any eventual holes that she could see. They went over it again and again, with her presenting different scenarios to which he would react. Apparently, he was doing well, because not once did she berate him for being stupid or having ridiculous ideas.

"It'll work, I think," she told him. "But if I were you, nephew, I would make sure that you only bring men you trust with you. The last thing you need in all this is a flip-flopper who suddenly decides he or she is more Royal Army material and gives you away."

"As in, I shouldn't bring Iteos," he said.

"If you don't trust him, do not involve him."

He liked the sound of that. The less he saw of Iteos the better. He wasn't sure if he would be able to resist the urge to smash the man's face in the second he saw him again. He wouldn't be surprised if Sheik had killed him already for what he'd done to the Hero. Oh, wouldn't that be a shame, an untraceable assassination of the worst bloody person Rial had ever had the misfortune of meeting... For a moment he wondered how much the Sheikah charged for their services.

"All right, Iteos is out of that particular operation," he told her. "Can't stand the son of a bitch anyway."

"You run the risk of getting killed by a Royal sword every day, the last thing you need is for a piece of mercenary scum to stick you in the back."

"I've no intention of getting stuck in the back, believe you me."

"Good. Now, onto a cheerier subject," she said, glancing at the screen behind which Rial knew Elenwe was recuperating. "It looks like those two have finally realised what they mean to each other."

"Took 'em long enough," Rial said with a smile. "More his fault than hers, I think."

"I heard that," a male voice said from behind the curtain, sounding indignant.

"It's true, though," a hoarse, female one from the same location said.

"Says who?"

"Says me!"

A minor squabble erupted behind the curtains, but it fell silent soon enough, leaving Rial and Riveth to stare at each other. She was grinning from ear to ear.

"Ah, young love," she said. "You won't find anything more volatile and beautiful." She leaned in closer. "Between you and me, I am glad he confessed now. I'm not sure she would have made it through half as well as she did without it."

"It has only been a day, a lot can happen that time," Rial said, wincing at the way he'd said it. Riveth didn't know it, but the young love comment had stung him, in that it only made his missing Victor even worse. It made him want to march on Lumina City right away, damn the odds and consequences, just to have a chance to liberate his King.

"Since when were you such a pessimist?" she asked, raising her eyebrow.

"Since the start of this war, I think," he said, lowering his head in shame, regretting his comment now. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," she said, patting his shoulder. "If anyone has earned the right to look at things in a slightly negative way, it's you. Just make sure the thoughts don't bury you, or else you'll be dig yourself out."

"I won't," he promised her.

"Pardon if I'm interruptin'," Sid said, suddenly standing behind Rial, almost like he had just materialised there out of nowhere. "But I found 'im."

"Found who?" Riveth asked.

"Ard," Rial explained. "He's been acting a bit strangely as of late, disappearing for hours on end, and I just wanted to make sure he is okay."

"Ah," Riveth said. "He has been seeing me every day, but only for a few minutes at the time. I thought he was with you the rest of the time."

"Well, he hasn't."

"Then you'd better go see what he has been up to," Riveth said, her voice taking on a hard edge. "And if he is in trouble, you had better get him out of it, Rial. He is the only one I have left, and I refuse to let him go like Erd. Do you understand?"

"I doubt it's that serious," Rial said, nonchalantly, but nodding to her all the same. He turned to Sid. "Where is he?"

"Other side o' th' camp, Cap'n. An' he ain't alone."

* * *

If someone had told Lor twenty-four hours earlier that he would find himself sitting on the floor of a disused tent, in the middle of a large, complicated design that had been drawn on the boards, trusting a boy he had just met a few hours before to remove the enchantment in the tattoo on his cheek so that he could use magic again, he would have told them to go fornicate with themselves—though in a far less polite language.

But there he was, sitting cross-legged in the very middle of some magical rune or whatever it was that Ard had drawn from instructions in a red book that he claimed had belonged to a very powerful warlock. He hadn't trusted Ard at first, the silence unnerving him quite a bit, but after Ard had begun to explain how he would remove the suppression field that left Lor unable to use his "gift", and how it would work, he found himself actually liking the silver-haired mage, especially as he began to speak more and more, apparently becoming comfortable around the young assassin.

Ard paced around the design, smudging some parts here, correcting some parts there. He seemed to obsess with getting things absolutely right. But then, Lor figured, if there is one field in the world in which perfection is paramount, it was magic.

"Can you maybe share what is going to happen?" he asked, causing Ard to look at him with those insanely green eyes of his. "You know, so I'll know what to do or expect?"

Ard hesitated, looking at the book again. "I will focus energy into the tattoo, breaking the source of the field. It won't remove the tattoo, but it will unlock your powers again. Hopefully."

"Hopefully?"

Ard shrugged. "It's a spell that's meant for two people to perform. My brother is not here, so I have to do it alone."

The confidence Lor had been feeling disappeared with that sentence. "Uh, where is your brother? Maybe we can wait until he comes back so you can do it together?"

"If we were to wait for my brother to return, we would be here until the end of time," Ard said. "He died during one of the first battles of the war."

"Oh...I'm sorry," Lor said. "I didn't know—"

"And why would you? You've never been here before," Ard said, shrugging.

"Yeah, but still...I'm sorry you lost your brother."

Ard cocked his head to the side in the way he seemed to do whenever he was studying someone. Why was he studying Lor now? Was he looking for some sign of insincerity? A hint of a lie? Finding none, apparently, he nodded. "Thank you, so am I." He hesitated. "Do you want to go through with this? It can be dangerous if it backfires."

Lor found himself, much to his surprise, nodding. "Yes, I do. I trust you to do the best you can."

Ard smiled at that, and it was the most dazzlingly adorable smile Lor had ever seen on a face, even more than Jeryd's.

"Then let us get started," Ard said. "The tattoo will burn, but not to the point of unbearableness. I do not know how it will feel when the magical energy begins to flow through you again, but I am confident it will not be painful."

"Very reassuring," Lor said drily, regretting it the second he saw Ard wince. He hadn't meant to use that tone. "But like I said, I trust you."

"I still do not understand why you do so suddenly after meeting me, but very well," Ard said. "I will start channelling now, and I need you to sit absolutely still. Do not move an inch, or I might cause you harm."

Lor steadied his position on the floor and prepared himself, looking up at Ard as the mage removed his hood and outer jacket, rolling up the sleeve of the shirt he wore underneath. His skin was pale, almost white. Lor caught himself staring and stopped. Ard began muttering words Lor didn't understand, apparently double- and triple-checking that he was pronouncing them right judging by the quick glances he took at the book.

This went on for a few minutes, and Lor was starting to wonder if Ard had made a mistake and failed to start the spell at all, when he suddenly felt like something was rolling across his entire being, like invisible waves were crashing over him from all sides. The design on the floor began to glow softly, and suddenly Lor felt like his entire body was locked in place and glued to the floor. That made him incredibly nervous, but Ard seemed calm and controlled, meaning that things were definitely progressing the right away.

The waves became more intense, and somehow they seemed to focus on his cheek, which began to, like Ard had said it would, burn. He felt the need to grasp at it, but he was still firmly locked in place.

Ard dropped the book on the floor and continued his muttering, kneeling down in front of Lor. The mage was sweating, his face red from the effort the spell seemed to demand. Or maybe it was just the act of using magic alone that was exhausting him. The burning in Lor's cheek grew worse, like someone was holding a hot iron just a few inches from it. Again the waves grew in intensity, as did Ard's voice. It seemed to take on an echoing quality, like there was more than one person speaking the words.

Then whatever Ard's spell had been building up towards seemed to happen, and the washing waves became a boiling sea, threatening to toss him around like a rag doll. It continued for what felt like an eternity, and then came to a complete and sudden stop. Ard spread his arms wide and brought them together, palms slapping hard against each other. And Lor began to scream. Or, he tried to scream, but his jaw was locked firmly, and all that came from was a muffled whine as he was sure the tattoo had caught fire—it certainly felt like it.

Then Ard's face was inches from his, and the mage placed the palm of his hand firmly on Lor's cheek, right one top of the ink. He curled his fingers and made a pulling motion. There wasn't actually anything in his hand from what Lor could see, but it felt like he was pulling something sticky and disgusting from his skin. It was almost like it was alive, with tendrils that refused to let go, spreading its tentacles throughout him. But Ard refused to give up, kept pulling and pulling. With an almost audible pop, it let go, and Ard stumbled backwards. For a moment, it seemed like he was holding something black and writhing in his hands, but then he clenched his fists and it disappeared. Lor fell forwards, sapped of all energy.

He lay facedown on the floor, panting. His limbs felt like they weighed tons, and he could barely breathe, he was so tired. Then a pair of arms hooked under his armpits and pulled him up, leaning him against something that was soft and firm at the same time.

"Easy, easy," Ard's voice said in his ear, and Lor realised that he was resting against his chest. "The suppressor was strong, and ugly. When it was ripped out it took whatever magic was inside you with it. You will recover, but it will take some time."

"How long?" Lor was able to say, but even that took a gargantuan effort.

"Anything from a few hours to a few days," Ard replied.

"And what...happens then?"

He could have sworn Ard was chuckling. It certainly felt like it.

"I will teach you."

* * *

The good councillor Rehm was having his breakfast in the castle study when a servant knocked on the door. A message that had just arrived for him by carrier pigeon. That was slightly unusual in that runners carried most messages for him. This must have been very urgent.

"Who is it from?" he asked the servant, who shook her head, saying she didn't know. "Hmph, out you go, then. But stand by in case I wish to send a message back." She nodded and left the study, leaving Rehm with the message and a rapidly cooling plate of eggs and bacon. The fireplace burned brightly, providing warmth for the slightly drafty room.

He unrolled the piece of paper, recognising Marlotta's neat handwriting immediately. Something had clearly changed since the last time she had sent a message. Back then it had been rough and erratic, clearly written by someone under great stress and tension. Now it was as beautiful as if she had written it in her own parlour rather than in front of the Winter Palace while keeping it under siege.

_**Siege has been broken, Silver Guard crushed. Winter Palace under our control. Many prisoners taken. Awaiting orders.** _

Rehm grinned. Finally, something was going his way. He wondered what it had taken to finally fight past the Silver Guard's defences. Must have been a miracle, really. He had actually been considering sending _The Chimera_ up there to assist with the battle, but now that he had received this message...well, the ship could go back to hunting the rebel scum. They would pay for destroying his beauties at Ironhill.

Ripping up a piece of paper to match the size of Marlotta's (wouldn't want the pigeon to have trouble carrying the weight, after all), he scribbled a reply. He could barely contain his excitement as he wrote. They were so close now, so close to the goal he had been working towards for so long.

_**Well done, Countess. I am impressed with your performance. Begin excavation at once, the sooner we uncover the prison, the better. The remaining Silver Guards are all guilty of high treason, and are to be executed immediately. Again, well done.** _

He called for the servant and told her to send the reply right away. After she had left, Rehm leaned back in his chair, breakfast forgotten as he reached for the wrapped bundle that had been collected by the archeologists who had so _tragically_ succumbed to some sort of toxic spores that were in the air at the old fortress. He unwrapped it, sliding his fingers along the rough surface of the stone. It hummed in response.

"Soon," he muttered.

Yes, things were certainly going according to plan now, despite all the delays and annoyances. All he craved now was the message from whichever officers were responsible for the complete destruction of the rebel army and the deaths of its leaders. Then he could _finally_ concentrate on what he had started all this for. He could hardly wait, the excitement was building steadily within him. Only a matter of time, now. Just a little time.

He was in such a good mood for the rest of the day that, upon reflection, he decided to invite Victor up for dinner. The lad had, after all, been a key part of it all, even though he had decided to begin to struggle at the last second. Despite all the trouble he'd caused so far, Rehm still found himself liking the boy. He was the perfect mix of easily controllable defiance and meekness that would have made him a perfect puppet...had it not been for the sudden backbone he'd grown at some point. He had no idea where it had come from, but he strongly suspected it had something to do with some sort of message left behind by his father. Maybe it was the same backbone Robar had grown and it had been bequeathed unto Victor as a sort of heritage along with the crown. He chuckled slightly at this thought. It was an amusing idea.

At dinnertime, there was a knock on the door, and two guards brought in Victor. The young man looked wiry; undoubtedly thanks to the rather poor diet he was forced to be on while in the dungeons. The finery he'd been given to wear that evening were draped around him, looking more like robes than the king's uniform. He'd even been allowed the sash.

"Ah, Victor, welcome," Rehm said graciously, rising from his chair with mock respect. He nodded at the guards. "You may go. Please, Victor, sit, sit. Rest those weary legs of yours. Goodness gracious, you look positively famished."

Victor sank into the chair on the opposite side of the table, eyeing Rehm suspiciously. "Is this the part where you kill me?" he asked. "This really looks like the part where you kill me."

"Oh my, what an imagination you have," Rehm said with a chuckle. "Far from it. I intend for you to remain alive as long as possible, perhaps the rest of your life, in fact. No, I invited you up here to celebrate, in fact."

"Celebrate?" the King said. "Celebrate what?"

"My imminent victory, of course," Rehm said, pouring wine into a pair of glasses, handing one to Victor, who took it without drinking. "You see, Your Majesty, there has been a major breakthrough for me. The Winter Palace has fallen, and the Silver Guard is no more."

Victor showed no outwards reaction that piece of news, but Rehm knew that the pit of despair within the young man had just become a little deeper. The Silver Guard, although not under the command of the King, would have been Victor's last hope. If Marlotta's assault had failed, then the guard would undoubtedly have marched on the person who had ordered the attack in the first place. And that could have turned out very badly indeed if Rehm hadn't defeated the rebels by then in order to turn the full strength of the Royal Army against them. However, that scenario had never come to pass, and there was but one enemy to worry about now, and they were miles away.

"Do drink, Your Majesty. I suspect your hunger and thirst have only been increased by these joyous news."

Victor glared at him, but took a sip of wine anyway. "So you have the Winter Palace," he said. "What are you going to do now?"

"Dig, of course," Rehm said in a matter-of-factly voice. "You did not think I wanted the Winter Palace based on its aesthetics, did you? That castle is without a doubt the ugliest thing I have ever seen."

"Dig? Don't tell you still believe that croc about the Enlightened One," Victor said with a snort. "Childrens' stories."

"I can assure you, Your Majesty, that the myths are very much real," Rehm said, taking a sip of wine himself. "And once I find the prison, I will open it."

"And start another war with the Goddesses? You have been reading too many novels, Rehm," Victor said, grinning at him. "Even if they were real, such business would hardly go well for you, a lowly mortal, wouldn't it?"

"War? Goodness me, no," Rehm said, shaking his head and faking outrage. "War is such nasty business, especially those on such a...celestial scale."

"Then what do you want with him?"

Rehm looked at his wine, thinking. "That is my business, and my business alone," he answered.

"And yet you saw fit to drag a whole kingdom into a hopeless civil war to accomplish it," Victor said drily. "Murdering a king in the process and imprisoning another."

"If your father had only allowed me to reopen the mine underneath Prison's Peak, all of this could have been avoided. If _you_ had allowed me, you would have found yourself comfortably on the throne while I was off doing my own business. But no, you both had to interfere, and because of that I had you punished. Not that your father didn't deserve what he got. He was hardly a saint during the first civil war."

"Shut up," Victor said warningly. "You do not have the right to speak of my father, you murderer!"

"Are my hands drenched in the blood of those I consider to be enemies? Yes, but it is all for the greater good."

"Fuck your greater good!" Victor snared, rising quickly and hurling the glass into the wall, where it smashed and spilled wine over several expensive volumes of books. "And fuck you!"

Rehm tsk-ed. "Victor, come now. This was supposed to be a pleasant dinner. You don't want to go back to that dark hole before eating, do you?"

"I'd rather go hungry than share a meal with you!"

"That can easily be arranged," Rehm warned. "But that would tear on my conscience too much, so sit down and eat, or I will have the guards come in here and force-feed you. I think we can both agree that the former would be the much more dignified option, hm?"

Victor sat back down, still glaring defiantly.

"Ah, that is much better," Rehm said, taking his own seat and clapping his hands. Servants came in with many dishes and left just as quickly as they had come, leaving the two with a meal fit for a...well, a king.

The rest of the meal was spent in silence, Victor doing his utmost to ignore the councillor on the other end of the table, trying to finish his food as quickly as possible so he could go back to his cell, most likely. Rehm was slightly disappointed that his hospitality and kindness was being responded to with such hostility. He had only been trying to be nice to the boy before he executed the final phase of his plan. He even considered telling Victor, but stopped himself at the last minute because, no matter how much he explained it, the King, or anyone else, just would not understand. Not even Agon or Marlotta had truly understood it when he explained it to them, which was frustrating. Not that it mattered in Agon's case. The man had simply been in it for the glory and money. The oaf was probably lying dead in some miserable ditch in the frozen tundra right now, and that's where he could stay for all Rehm cared. Marlotta...she was smarter, cleverer. She knew that the results of this...operation would be far greater than a little land gained and fuller pockets. But she still did not grasp the big picture, and he was done wasting his time trying to explain it to her.

No, his was a lonely quest, like it had been for as long as he could remember. But in the end, his success would make it all worth it.

His mood was slightly dampened by the time Victor went back to his cell, but Rehm still let him keep the clothes he was wearing and even sent the leftovers down with him. He was surprised Victor hadn't tried to kill him with the dinner cutlery, but he supposed the boy was too weak from the lack food that he simply couldn't command the strength to do it.

When he was once again alone in the study, he found himself too distracted to read or do anything productive. He paced around the room restlessly. He was glad that everything was going according to plan now, but at the same time he was anxious, almost afraid of what lay at the end of the long road he had been on. He spied one of Robar's extensive collections of drinks on a table close to the fireplace, next to the comfiest chair in the entire castle.

"Well," he said, seating himself. "Might as well get roaring drunk."

* * *

**Soul Remnants**

**Chapter 62**

* * *

The assault on the southern gate into Lumina was not going well. Despite the fact that the enemy troops holding it were running low on supplies and certainly nervous about facing such a large army, they were fighting furiously to keep Mirn and Zelda's troops away from it. Most casualties came from the cannon fire. They rained mass destruction upon the infantry that tried again and again to cross the field, which by now had been reduced to a bunch of craters, preventing them from even getting close to the walls. Those who managed to avoid the deadly, explosive projectiles were mopped up by the skilled archers in the towers.

Zelda found it frustrating to watch so many men and women being cut down just like that. None of them even had a chance to fight properly. Even more frustrating was the stubbornness of General Mirn, in that he refused to allow her to order her troops into the fray. He claimed that it was so that they had a trump card—the Royal Army would never expect another army to suddenly take to the field, but that logic was easily defeated by the simply fact that the Hyrulian flag had been flying in Mirn's camp from day one. If the gate defenders hadn't noticed the five thousand soldiers from Hyrule by now, they were surely blind and should by no right be able to rain such accurate death upon Mirn's troops.

She suspected that, in reality, he was afraid of losing her support should she lose too many men in the first battle, that she would withdraw the second things got "too real". She had half a mind to slap him for even thinking such thoughts. True, it hurt her to know that she would be sending many people to their deaths in a foreign land, but when it was done for the greater good, as the Sages claimed, then surely it was worth it? She would mourn all their deaths regardless.

She wondered if thinking like that, rationalising her losses with "the greater good" was a sign that she was growing cynical or cold. She told herself that this was no different than what she had done during the war with Ganondorf, that it was all necessary. But her defence failed when she realised that, as far as she knew (and the Sages would tell her), this war was not hers to fight.

Or, it hadn't been as long as Sheik and Link weren't involved, but those two idiots just _had_ to land themselves smack-dab in the middle of the whole thing, didn't they? Once this was over, she would be sorely tempted to take them both back to Hyrule and lock them up in her castle. For their own good, it would be. And to give the rest of the world a chance to breathe a sigh of relief and take a break from the disaster twins. How they managed to get themselves into so much trouble was beyond her, but she intended to have a serious talk with them about it.

So no, the civil war wasn't truly her fight, but whatever was happening with the legend of the Enlightened One was—along with her responsibility for her two idiot brothers. And so here she was, watching it all happen.

The tell-tale whistle of a projectile from one of the gate cannons brought her out of her thoughts, and she watched as a patch of field, where there had just been a group of twelve soldiers charging at the gate, went up in a puff of black smoke, white snow and brown dirt. Clumps of soil rained down on the ranks, who watched almost passively as their comrades were turned to dust. Zelda had to admire their courage; not a single one of them looked ready to turn tail and flee. She glanced at her own men, and saw that they were not intimidated by the gruesome weapons either. That was not a big surprise. They had all seen such horrid things during the previous war, in which they had been up against terrible magic and monstrous beasts.

A horn was blown, and the next group of infantry began their sullen march towards the edge of the battlefield. Once they reached what seemed to be the firing range of the cannons, the group split up, spreading across the field to minimise theirs chances of being hit. Only five made it across, and they were soon lying in the snow with arrows protruding from their bodies.

Sighing with annoyance, Zelda walked over to where Mirn had set up his command and spotted the general watching the field closely with his spyglass. What was he watching, Zelda wondered. What could he possibly learn from watching his troops get vaporised within seconds of entering the field?

"General," she greeted him when she got close enough. He looked at her, nodding respectfully.

"Princess," he replied, returning to his spying on the battlefield right after. "What can I do for you?"

"Tell me what you are doing, for one," she demanded. "We agreed on a full frontal assault, but so far you have not allowed me to participate. If you are afraid that I will withdraw if I lose some men, then I can assure you I won't. I have two very dear friends in Lumina who I intend to get out of there alive. It will take a lot more to get me to retreat!"

"That is all well and good, Your Majesty," Mirn said, shaking his head. "But right now, sending your men into the fray will only be a waste of resources."

"Oh, but sending yours isn't?" she asked, feeling outraged. How could the man be so callous?

"In that I have more men than you and they are far more expendable than yours? Yes," the man replied, making no secret of his feelings on the matter. Where was the man who genuinely seemed to care about those under his command? "Truth is, I am not even trying to assault the gate at the moment."

She paused. "What?"

"I believe you heard me, Princess, I—"

They both ducked as another volley from the cannons sent dirt raining over them. The rush of air that followed had a distinctive metallic smell to it. Zelda only hoped it was from the projectiles and not...well, the blood of those who had just been utterly annihilated.

"At the moment I am doing recon. Look," he said, pointing at the left-most corner of the field. "See how there are far less craters there? I believe that is where the limit of their firing range goes, and I intend to plot out a safe path for my men through the field before I send them in. Those who are charging right now volunteered for the job, knowing fully well what they were going to be doing." He looked at her, raising an eyebrow. "Believe me, once we have established and can send troops en masse, then I will call upon you and your troops."

The plan made sense, she supposed, but it still felt wrong to use living, breathing people for such a task. Despite this, she nodded. "Very well, General. Let me know when you find a path."

"Certainly, Your Majesty," he replied.

It did not take as long as she had feared for the man to find a safe route. She was called back to the command centre and was shown the rough map he had drawn up. As he had suspected, the left part of the field was mostly out of the cannons' accurate range. They could still fire there, but it was difficult to aim, apparently. Most likely, the weapons were mounted on tracks that pointed in a specific direction, preventing the cannons from being realigned in that direction. A ridiculous design fault, Mirn called it, but happily exploited.

"I believe it's time to go on the offensive," he told her. "Do you have men to spare?"

She nodded. "Of course. How many do you need?"

"No more than a few hundred, I should think," Mirn replied. "And as many ladders as they can carry."

She went back to her own battalion and rounded up the necessary men and ladders. She led them to meet up with Mirn's men, and they assembled, ready to finally begin the assault in earnest. Mirn nodded in gratitude, but paused when Zelda removed the overcoat that had covered her armour and weapons. He looked confused.

"Your Majesty?" he asked. "What are you doing?"

"Getting ready to fight, what does it look like?" she asked, having expected such a reaction.

"But, you're a princess!" Mirn protested. "It is not suitable for you to—"

"What, fight and shed blood along with those I demand to do the same?" she asked, fixing him with a steely gaze. "My men trust and respect me, general, not because I am their princess and monarch of Hyrule, but because I fought alongside them during the war with Ganondorf. It is true that I was in hiding for most of the beginning of the war, but that was because I was a mere child. Now that I am an adult, I have no reason not to. I fought and bled with them, general, and I intend to do the same here. Otherwise I have no right to call myself their leader."

Mirn looked ready to protest, especially at the "adult" part, but wilted under the glare from the princess. Nodding and sighing, he removed his cloak and asked for his squire to fetch his helmet. "I suppose I have no excuse either, then," he said, nodding to her.

She smiled, glad that he was not going to protest further. In the back of her head, she knew she was doing something immensely stupid. One mistake here could lead to her death and a leaderless Hyrule, but it did not feel right in any way to expect someone else to fight for her in a war they had no personal stake in (from their perspective, at least) unless she was ready to spill a little blood herself.

"Harkins, you're in charge here," Mirn told his second in command. "Just follow the plan and send more men as the path opens up."

Zelda pulled on her own helmet as they prepared to make their way across the field. She had to admit, her nerves were starting to act up. Just looking at the miserable remains of the field to her right was enough to make her fully realise how dreadful these weapons were.

"My men and I go first," Mirn told her in no uncertain terms that left no room for argument, "You follow after. Hopefully we will soak up most of the punishment."

"I cannot agree to that, General," she told him.

"I don't give a toss," Mirn told her. "Now do as I say or we will cease the assault immediately."

She glared at him, but nodded. He was in charge here, not her. She was merely in a support role, really. Most likely, he'd rather see her safely behind their lines, delegating tasks to her officers. Had Zelda been a traditionally minded princess, she would have agreed with that, but...she always liked to tread new ground when it came to being royalty.

The units began to assemble, and she and troops took their place behind Mirn's. There was no great ceremony about it, the general simply began to walk into the frozen, hellish field. A lucky shot from the gate took out the right flank, and the men huddled closer together despite the officers shouting for them to spread out. It was a natural reaction to clump together like that, safety in numbers and all that, more instinct than conscious thought. Even Zelda felt a need to stay closer to the people around her whenever a cannonball whizzed by their heads.

They made slow going across the field, pausing to erect small shield walls, a bunch of wood tied together to form a frame and a sort of fence with several shields on the side that faced the enemy. It would soak up most of the arrows and bolts from the archers, but would buckle under the force of a cannonball. It was a false security, but a welcome one nonetheless, one felt when huddling behind one of them.

Zelda looked behind her. A steady stream of soldiers were marching onto the field, following the trail she and Mirn had left behind, and ensuring that they were mostly out of harm's way. Many were carrying ladders and grappling hooks, armed to the teeth and ready for close combat with the cowards behind the walls. According to the general, this gate didn't have the biggest garrison of soldiers, and they would be easily defeated once they got over the wall and entered the fortress.

She noticed that Mirn was getting ready to move again after a brief stop behind one of the shield walls, and she gave the order to her men as well. She was indeed going to follow Mirn—but he never said at what distance.

Another cannon was fired, the ball striking the ground not far from her. This one didn't bury itself in the ground, like most seemed to do. No, it rolled across the field, fast and heavy, heading straight for a fairly large group of soldiers. She looked away, not wishing to see the carnage it would unleash when it reached them. She didn't have to see it. She heard it. The screams, the wet cracks as the ball tore the legs and feet off anyone who didn't get out of its way in time.

She drew her spyglass and extended it, studying the artillery positions on the wall. They seemed to be panicking, trying to swivel their guns so that they could hit the meandering line of soldiers slowly bur surely approaching the gate. It didn't seem to work, the cannons refusing to budge. At least something is going our way this morning, she thought.

She caught up to the general behind the last shield wall they at up before the open stretch of field they would have to cross to reach the wall. Mirn was crouching down, looking at what seemed to be a hastily drawn representation of the battlefield on a napkin. There was a line drawn through it, probably indicating the safe path. Mirn handed it one of the younger-looking soldiers, who immediately went back the way they came, probably hurrying to deliver it to Harkins, Mirn's second. He noticed her, and seemed to scowl with annoyance for a second before apparently accepting that the Princess of Hyrule rarely followed orders she did not like.

"My nephew," Mirn said, motioning in the messenger's direction. "Good lad. A bit daft. Wants glory on the battlefield and all that shit. That message should keep him behind the line for a little while."

Zelda smiled. "Glory, eh? Isn't that what they all want at some point?" she asked.

"Aye," Mirn said with a nod. "Too bad so many of them will only find their graves here."

The solemn moment was ruined by the arrow fired from the wall that struck one of the shields' edges, making a loud "PING!"-noise. To Zelda, it sort of sounded like the time Sheik had accidentally slammed his toes into one of the legs of the stove in her safe house. Of course, it wasn't quite the same without the usually calm and collected Sheikah bouncing around on one foot while cursing the stove in Goddesses knew how many languages. It was one of the few times Zelda had seen Sheik lose his composure, and anytime that happened was like ten birthdays in one—it was just that much fun to watch. She had treated his owie after laughing, of course. She wasn't a monster.

"The only graves being dug here today, General, will be theirs," she said, pointing at the men manning the wall. "They will pay for their treachery."

Mirn nodded. "That they will, Your Highness. Have no doubt about that. I will personally see to it that they...they...say, do you hear something strange?"

Zelda listened, eventually realising what he was talking about. "The cannons," she said. "They've stopped. Why?"

"Only two reasons that I can think of," Mirn said, frowning. "Either they have run out of ammunition, which is a very good thing."

"Or?"

"Or...they are taking their time to gloat," he said, grimacing and peeking around the wall, his form growing very rigid. "Because we walked into...a trap," he finished with barely a whisper. Zelda looked around the wall, at the gates. The sight made her heart plunge into her stomach. The cannons...they were all pointing at them. She looked at Mirn, who merely gave her a little shake of his head and the most apologetic nod she had ever seen anyone give. "Shit," he said quietly.

She had just enough time to look back at the gate, notice the white smoke suddenly pouring from the cannons. Then the world exploded.

Her vision went white, and she felt herself being lifted into the air, the air forced out of her lungs, her helmet torn off by the force. She heard nothing apart from a distant roar and sharp, buzzing tone that seemed to originate from her own head. Something slammed into her leg, but the sensory overload was too much for her to even acknowledge the pain of it. Something else slammed into her whole body, and she wondered what it was until she felt the familiar, right sensation of gravity. She was back on the ground. Her vision slowly cleared up, but she didn't move just yet. Dizziness made it difficult to even see if she was on her back or stomach. She opened her eyes properly and was greeted with dirt that was coloured dark red. The ringing in her ears slowly died down, and she began to look around. Bodies everywhere, both her and Mirn's men. Limbs had been torn off, entire beings vaporised in a second. It made her sick.

She tried to stand up, but a sharp pain in her left leg made her buckle and fall heavily back on the ground. She looked at it. A huge gash had been torn into her calf and thigh. The knee was unharmed, but the other injuries were bleeding quite heavily.

"Oh," she said, still dazed from the explosion, "that's not good."

Shadows moved past her. The rest of the army had seen what had happened and realised that the only way the battle would be won was by charging into the fray and just praying to whatever gods they followed that they would make it through. She tried to stand up again, and this time found the strength to ignore the searing pain in her leg and hobble along on her right. She was noticed soon enough, one of her own men helping to steady her and bringing her to the safety of a crater big enough for several people to hide in.

It was there she saw Mirn, and the state he was in made her gasp.

There was nothing below his waist. The man had been blown in half. And yet he was still conscious, waving his arms about and screaming both orders and words of indignation and anger. He was rapidly fading, the dirt underneath his ruined body turning redder and redder. He noticed her and waved her over. She crawled over to him, seeing how pale he was. It would not be long, now.

"You're...alive," he said, his boisterous voice suddenly quiet and tired. "Thank the gods."

"General—"Zelda began, but he cut her off.

"I'm a goner, anyone can see that," he said, coughing up blood. She could not even begin to imagine the unseen, internal trauma his body must have sustained from the blast, not even with Kaura's training under her belt. "Someone needs to lead..." he said.

"Who?" she asked.

"You," he replied. He patted the man next to him on the arm. "This man will confirm it with the other officers. They will obey, do not worry." He looked at her intensely, the light fading from his eyes even as he spoke. "Lumina's fate...lies in your hands now...Princess," he whispered. "Please...save it..."

He was gone before she was able to answer, so she put his hands on his chest, bent down and kissed his forehead, whispering, "I promise."

She then looked at the soldier Mirn had indicated to. "Go tell the officers that Mirn is dead and I am assuming full command."

The soldier nodded, but hesitated. "But Your Highness, you're hurt," he said.

Zelda glanced at her injuries. She could barely feel them now, her system was so full of adrenaline. She shook her head. "'Tis but a scratch, a flesh wound. Go, tell them!"

He saluted and stormed off, dodging and weaving his wave from crater to crater, taking cover every time he heard the whine of an incoming projectile. Zelda turned her attention back to the gate. They were so close now, about a fifth of the distance left. Several troops, both Luminan and Hyrulian, had made it all the way to the wall, and they were currently protecting each other from the archers with their shields while others prepared to throw grappling hooks and raise ladders.

"Might as well start there," she said to herself and picked up a shield from a fallen soldier. Moving with anything called speed was not an option in her condition. The pain wasn't high at the moment, but aggravating the wounds would not be doing her any favours in the long run. She had no idea about the extent of the injuries, but the fact that she was at least able to stand and walk at all was a fairly good sign.

Several arrows slammed into the shield she carried, the archers on the wall having spotted a new target to have their macabre fun with. Her luck finally kicked in, however, as another group of soldiers caught the attention of the archers, leaving her to make her way to the wall on her own.

"Your Highness!" one of her soldiers said from behind, suddenly appearing at her side and covering her with another shield. "You're injured!" she said.

"Really? I hadn't noticed," Zelda said, glancing down at her bloody leg. "Hardly noticeable."

"I need to get you to a doctor, we—"

"I am not going anywhere...corporal," she told the woman after scanning her for signs of rank. "I highly doubt I would be able to cross that thing again." She gave the cratered field behind them a pointed glance. The cannoneers had given up on careful aiming and controlled fire and seemed to be simply firing randomly at the moment. As a result it would be impossible to predict where the salvos would hit. Because of this it would be far less risky to move forward. The corporal realised this as well, and simply nodded.

"Then we'd best move forward, Princess," the corporal said and put her arm around Zelda's waist. "Lean on me!"

The corporal was strong, easily supporting Zelda's weight. More arrows hit the shields, but she barely paid them any attention. She was far more focused on getting her monarch to the relative safety below the wall. Just before they reached the point where they would be safe from the cannon fire, the ground exploded in front of them, and they were forced to take cover in another crater. This slowed them down far too much for the corporal's liking, it seemed, for she simply dropped her shield, picked up Zelda—armour and all—and sprinted the remaining distance, through the raining dirt and snow, not even noticing the arrows burying themselves in the ground by their feet.

"Make way! Make way! Princess Zelda is coming through!"

The Hyrulian soldiers immediately stood aside to open up a space at the safest part of the wall, the corporal carefully setting her down.

"Is there a medic here?!"

"Somewhere back there!" someone shouted, pointing at the field.

"Damn!"

Zelda gave the corporal a strained smile. "I'm quite fine, Corporal, do not worry," she said. "Now, let's see about taking this gate, shall we?"

"Princess—"

"You there, set up the ladders on my command! Grappling hooks follow closely after! First ones across the wall create a perimeter for the rest! Broad strokes, make space!"

The corporal gave up on trying to get the princess to take a break. Apparently this one had never heard about how stubborn her princess could be. She remained close, however, as if to protect her. It was...nice.

She waited until a decent number of soldiers had made it to the wall, and then gathered the ones wearing the larger weapons, like two-handed swords and axes. They would go first, their weapons were the best ones for making space when coming across the wall.

There weren't quite as many men there as she would have liked, but any more waiting now and the defenders would have far too much time to prepare for close quarters combat. She held up her hand to signal for attention, but many of the gathered were too busy with either watching the battlefield or checking each other's armour and gear. The corporal noticed it, took a deep breath and bellowed.

"Oi! Pay attention, you bastards!"

That did the trick. Heads snapped to face them, and Zelda could not help but feel a little sheepish next to the corporal. She lifted her arms several times, preferring to convey the order non-verbally. At least this one didn't need to be bellowed out by the corporal...who, when standing next to her, Zelda realised was quite a bit taller than her.

The ladders were raised and grappling hooks thrown, and the soldiers began climbing. It did not take long for the defending archers to shift their fire downwards. Several of the climbers were hit, losing their grip on the ladder or rope, falling to the ground and crashing painfully into their friends below. Zelda winced every time it happened, feeling every death and knowing she was the cause of them, having ordered them into the situation. However, they were at war, and sacrifices had to be made, but still...

The first few men finally made it over the wall, and the rain of arrows finally stopped as the blades began flying. A few of the defenders were even thrown over the side, and were finished off quickly by those on the ground. By the time about thirty attackers had made it across, Zelda decided it was time for her to join the fray. She placed her foot on the bottom rung of a ladder and started to climb, but felt a stern gaze on her neck. The corporal was looking at her, clearly not thrilled with the idea of her princess doing this. Zelda gave her a sweet smile.

"If you're that worried about me, stay close," she said, and continued climbing.

She heard the corporal's sigh of frustration behind her, even over the din of battle around them, but then she began to climb after Zelda.

It was not a fast climb by any means. It was bad enough to be weighed down by her armour, but the gashes in her leg made it incredibly painful to lift her weight upwards. About halfway up she was beginning to second-guess her decision to do this. Perhaps it had been a good idea to go back and find a doctor, maybe she should have listened to—

"With all due respect, Your Highness," the corporal called out, "but if you don't move your ass, we're gonna die!"

That certainly gave Her Highness some much-needed motivation to, as it were, move her derriere, and she climbed the rest of the way much faster. Her thighs burned as she swung her legs over the battlement and caught sight of the bloodbath that had erupted up there.

The defenders were already being forced back by the Luminan and Hyrulian troops, who seemed to be much better at melee than the enemy. The roof of the gatehouse was littered with bodies, most of them the enemy's, and several of Zelda's soldiers were trying to open the door that led into one of the artillery towers.

"Your Highness, I _strongly_ suggest that you remain here," the corporal said after she too had climbed over the wall, her sword drawn and her eyes darting everywhere, trying to keep track of all the potential threats up on the wall. "Your injury..."

"You are probably right," Zelda said, admitting to herself that she had no place in the battle in her current condition. She nodded to the corporal, who led her to a slightly sheltered recess in the cliffside. She expected the corporal to then charge straight into battle, but when she stayed, she asked, "Where is your unit?"

The corporal shook her head. "Caught in a blast. I'm the only one left, Your Highness."

"I see...what is your name?"

"Tira, Your Highness. Tira Siress."

"Well, Tira, I hereby appoint you to my temporary personal bodyguard," Zelda said. "Is that agreeable?"

Tira smiled slightly at the question. "It is an honour, Y—"

"And don't call me that, just say Zelda...or Princess, if you _must_ use titles."

Tira nodded. "As you wish, Y...Princess."

The door to the artillery tower was wrenched open, and the soldiers stormed inside. Sounds of clashing steel and pained screams came from within...and then something unexpected happened. The Luminan and Hyrulian soldiers were suddenly pushed out, a surprisingly large number of gate defenders rushing after them. They had been waiting for the door to open before charging at the attackers. The cannons above boomed as another salvo was fired.

There was no conscious thought behind Zelda drawing her sword and, ignoring the intense pain from her leg, rushing into the fray, Tira hot on her heels. It was the training Impa had put her through that took over, turning her into a bladed frenzy. Like Sheik, Zelda's advantage was speed, not mass or strength, which was why Impa had trained her to make the most of the space she had available and the ability to strike at many targets at the same time. While in this particular frame of mind, Zelda always felt like time slowed down, and that she was merely a spectator, like someone else was controlling her body and she was merely a witness to the damage it dealt out.

But some of her opponents were heavily armoured, and her quick strikes mostly struck plate or slid off entirely, causing little to no damage. Luckily, Tira was usually poised to strike at those Zelda missed...and Tira had no use for speed when she had the sheer strength of her arms. One armoured opponent was split diagonally, Tira's sword cutting through his armour, flesh and bone like hot butter.

The enemy soldiers were surprised by the small tornado that had suddenly broken out in their midst, especially when it was followed by what could only be described as an avalanche of steel. It did not take long for them to break and beat a hasty retreat, pursued by the attackers. Zelda and Tira did not pursue, however, because the fight had left the door to the tower wide open with no one to defend it. The princess and the corporal looked at each other, and a silent agreement was made.

The cannoneers didn't see them coming at all, expecting the soldiers downstairs to keep any attackers at bay. Zelda and Tira did not give them enough time to react. Zelda's blade bit into the neck of the closest man while another lost his head to the corporal. Within seconds the entire cannoneer team had been taken out, leaving two of eight cannons silent.

"Goddesses..." Zelda whispered when she saw the view of the field below them. What had been a flat expanse of land covered in a blanket of pristinely white snow had been turned into a ruined husk. The earth had been blackened, burned to a crisp; the snow had gone from purely white to dark red wherever it had not yet melted. It was a horrible sight, and the worst part was that it reminded Zelda of what Hyrule had almost become under Ganondorf's rule. And that had been a process that had taken years, while this had happened in...she was unsure of how much time had passed since the attack started, but it could not have been more than a few hours. Was this the power of Lumina's technology?

"Princess!" Tira said, pointing at the other artillery towers. The other crews hadn't noticed the lack of firing from this tower yet, and the corporal had already had an idea. The cannons were mounted on racks that seemed to be able to rotate three hundred and sixty degrees, and Tira was currently turning one of them to face one of the other artillery towers. Zelda nodded and helped her prepare it.

"Do you know how to use these things?" Zelda asked.

"Not really, but I think I can figure it out."

There were packets containing a black powder that Zelda recognised as the same material Vorpheus had made his bombs from along with hollow iron balls filled with the same powder along with what looked like a fuse on the top of the balls. Judging by the loud booms that sounded before the projectile hit, Zelda could only assume that the packets were used to launch said projectiles. She helped Tira first put one of the packets inside the tube of the cannon and then loading a ball.

"How do we make it fire?" Tira said, looking around the tower for something that would set it off.

Zelda spotted some sort of rod with a rope tip that was glowing and smoking and picked it up. There was a small hole on the top of the gun, looking just big enough for the tip of the rod to fit through...

The two exchanged glances, and Tira nodded, covering her ears. Zelda did the same with one hand and stuck the tip of the rod through the hole.

The boom was louder than she had expected, and her ears started ringing again. She was nearly knocked off her feet as the cannon was knocked backwards by the recoil. It did not even take a second for the projectile to hit, cutting right through the base of the closest artillery tower. The other crew looked hilariously shocked at what had just happened, but that didn't last long as the tower began creaking and wobbling, collapsing and showering the enemy troops in the courtyard between the gatehouses with bricks and stone.

"Hah, take that!" Tira shouted, already loading the gun for a second shot and aiming it at the third artillery tower. "Princess!"

"Right, right," Zelda said, still a little dazed from the first shot. The cannon fired again, but Tira's aim was not as good this time. While still devastating, it did not hit the tower base. Instead, the ball skimmed the top of the firing position, exploding in the middle of the crew. Zelda looked away—it was not a pleasant sight, watching people being reduced to a red mist like that.

The fourth tower didn't need to be destroyed—the attackers had already managed to make their way to that side of the wall and had wrenched the door open, quickly taking out the crew at the top. Some of their troops had made it down to the gate itself and opened it, allowing the rest of the reinforcements to rush inside and engage the enemy in the courtyard.

It did not take long for the defenders to surrender in the face of this onslaught, their only advantage having been the guns and the strong wall. Within minutes they were laying down their arms and begging not to be killed. Mirn's men showed an impressive amount of restraint when they did not just kill the prisoners who had killed so many of their friends in the field, but Zelda also figured that it was bad enough that they were fighting their own countrymen. Hell, many of them probably knew each other.

"Victory is yours, Your Majesty," Tira said as they looked down upon the courtyard, where Hyrulian and Luminan soldiers were cheering their joint effort.

"Yes, I suppose it is," Zelda said, feeling faint. The natural painkillers in her body were rapidly running out, and the blood loss was making her dizzy. Suddenly, charging into battle like that didn't seem like such a good idea after all. She lost her balance, almost dropping off the side of the tower, but Tira quickly caught and steadied her.

"We need to get you to a doctor," the corporal said as she sheathed her weapon and picked up the princess like before, paying no heed to Zelda's protests as she climbed down the tower, bellowing for a medic, doctor or surgeon, it didn't matter who.

"This way, this way," someone said, leading them inside one of the buildings in the courtyard. A field hospital had already been set up and many wounded were being treated. Tira grabbed the closest doctor she could find.

A part of Zelda wanted to rebel against someone taking charge of her like that, deeming it unseemly for royalty to be carried around like this by a mere corporal. But another part actually liked it more than a little. And she _had_ appointed Tira to be her bodyguard, that surely gave her some form of executive power when it came to the princess' well-being. For the first time since they had met, the corporal removed her helmet, finally letting Zelda see—although a bit blurry since she seemed to be losing consciousness fast—Tira's face. She was very attractive.

That was all she could remember before fainting from blood loss.

When she woke up, she would learn the true extent of her injury...

* * *

**Soul Remnants  
Chapter 63**

* * *

"He's in there, Cap'n," Sid said, pointing at the tent that had, more or less, become Ard's after the battle with General Agon. A group of concerned-looking soldiers were gathered outside, and they looked might relieved to see their general approaching, even if it made Rial fear the worst. Most of the gathered men were Riveth's, along with a few of the newcomers. It did not surprise him at all to see that it was the newcomers who looked the most perturbed. Most of them had probably never had to deal with magic or its wielders before.

"All right, all right, what's going on here, then?" Rial said in his most authoritative voice. He doubted it _sounded_ very authoritative, but it was the only one he had that could even be described as such, so he rolled with it.

One of the men, presumably the suddenly elected leader (the election of whom was in no way democratic), saluted sharply, followed quickly by the others.

"General, sir," he said. "We heard strange sounds coming from inside the tent. We know it belongs to Ard, sir, but these were...stranger than usual, sir."

"At ease," Rial told him, confused. "What do you mean by strange sounds? Like...magic sounds, or...?" He could not help but notice that one of the newcomers, a bumpkin-looking country boy, discreetly spat on the ground at the mention of the word "magic". He chose then to make sure to post a few guards who weren't affected by prejudice outside Ard's abode whenever possible. The last thing he needed was for the mage to be killed by ignorant farmers.

"I suppose they could be described as such, sir," the soldier said, nodding. "There were...screams, sir."

"And you didn't go in?!" Rial demanded, pushing him aside with Sid hot on his heels. He pushed aside the flaps, fully expecting to be faced with a scene of carnage or bloody murder, but what did greet him was...surprising.

Ard was...sleeping. While practically holding a strange boy in his lap. Rial didn't know if he was supposed to laugh or not. The worry that had started to fill his chest the second he had spotted the soldiers outside the tent had suddenly deflated completely, like a balloon popped with a needle. This was what they had been worried about? The only thing that was confusing him still was the identity of the boy in Ard's arms...and maybe how they could be sleeping so soundly in a position that looked so damn uncomfortable. Then he reminded himself that using magic exhausted mages, and that he had probably not fallen asleep like that on purpose. As for the strange boy...

"I believe tha' is th' mystery assassin, Cap'n," Sid said quietly, apparently not perturbed by the situation at all. "On account of 'is tattoo."

Rial looked closer and saw that there was indeed a tattoo on the strange boy's cheek. And judging by the looks of his outfit, he did seem to be a...gentleman of the night. Then he realised something he had missed and looked at the spy. "How did you know he had a tattoo?"

Sid grinned. "Wee—"

"Birdie, yes, yes," Rial said with a sigh, turning around and leaving the tent. He looked at the soldier he had spoken to, noticing his rank. "Sergeant, I want a pair of armed guards stationed outside this tent at all times to protect Ard and his...guest. Make sure they're from Riveth's old unit. Is that understood?"

The sergeant saluted again. "Yes, sir. Armed guards, all times, Riveth's men."

"Good, carry on. And the rest of you can disperse, it makes me nervous to have all this attention around a boy who is simply doing his job," he told the others, watching as they reluctantly left, making sure they were all gone. He looked at the sergeant again. "If anything happens to either of them—"

"It won't, sir, I guarantee it!"

"Good, carry on."

He remained silent until Sid caught up to him a good distance away from Ard's tent, thinking. "I didn't expect that, whatever that was," he said.

"Given the lad's general...aversion t' people, 's understandable," Sid agreed. "Still, nice t' see 'im socialisin'."

"You don't think they're...involved, do you?" Rial asked hesitantly, feeling very awkward all of a sudden.

Sid shrugged. "Dunno. Does it matter?"

Rial shrugged back. "Dunno. Should it? I mean, I feel a certain responsibility towards him, and it's my job to make sure he's well, and this kid shows up and they're suddenly all cuddly and that. Not that there's anything wrong with that, mind you, it's just that it can be dangerous since he's a mage and the things that can happen during—"

"Cap'n, you're babblin', and rapidly stridin' towards an area that's none of yer business," Sid interrupted him with a grin. "And soundin' just like a father."

That made Rial pause, coming to a sudden stop in the middle of a busy crowd.

Father? he thought. Since when?

As if reading his thoughts, Sid's grin widened, and he said: "It sneaks up on ye."

Rial was given no opportunity to think about the implication as a runner suddenly came up to them.

"General, sir, the delegation from Caldhaven has arrived," he said with a salute.

"Already? That was quick," Rial said. "All right, make sure that their horses and such are properly taken care of before sending them to the command tent."

"Sir!"

They hurried to the command tent, Rial's thoughts mainly revolving around what would come of this meeting. As far as he knew, Ise could either be an ally, an enemy or a neutral third party to the conflict. Now, the second option was not particularly desirable, but it was far better than the third, because you at least knew where you had an enemy. Neutral parties are dangerous because they are often unpredictable, not to mention the fact that, in the end, they always pick a side. One can only hope that the side they pick is yours.

He hoped that, at least, she was sending someone competent if there were to be any sort of negotiation.

"What do you think?" he asked Sid as they prepared for the meeting.

"Too early t' tell," the spy said. "But, takin' the events takin' place in the capital into account...we might be lookin' at a potential ally."

Rial shook his head. He was tired of potentials and possibilities. He wanted confirmation, something graspable, something definite. Anything other than bloody guesswork and speculation!

He was pleasantly surprised, then, when the councillor herself stepped through the tent flaps, flanked by a pair of tough-looking bodyguards, looking graceful in her winter coat and elegant hairstyle. The fiery red hair was, as usual, the thing that stole the most attention. Her cheeks were rosy from the cold, but the rest of her face betrayed no emotion as she did a quick survey of the room. She apparently found Rial's office satisfactory as she nodded to herself before looking at him, nodding.

"Rial Vortan, I presume," she said, stepping forward and offering her hand. "I recognise you from your days in the Royal Guard."

"Councillor Ise," Rial said and shook her hand. "I did not expect you to show up in person." He was slightly more confident about the meeting now, as showing up in person meant that she most likely wanted to negotiate.

"It's just Lady Ise now, I'm afraid," she said, taking a seat even though none was offered (a mere oversight on Rial's part, having no experience with such interactions in general). "I am sure you have heard of the...events that took place in the city not long ago."

Rial had been given a briefing on it by Sid once the spy had learned of it from his operatives, and nodded. "A travesty," he said.

"Indeed, but perhaps a necessary evil," Ise said, frowning. "Necessary, in that it finally made me realise the truth about this war and Rehm. True, I have never been fond of the man or his ways, but I never truly understood how much of a monster the man was until that night when he tried to have me killed along with the rest of the council. I am...ashamed to sit here before you, a man I have for so long thought of as a filthy traitor when it turns out that you were the one with the right idea all along. I apologise, Captain Vortan, from the depths of my heart. This apology also extends to General Riveth, even though I had nothing to do with her exile." She looked around. "Speaking of which, where is the general? I assumed that it would be her I would be speaking with."

"I am afraid she has taken ill," Rial said apologetically. "And as a result, has officially retired."

"Oh dear," Ise said. "I am sorry to hear that. If you do not mind, may I ask...what?"

"Rust lung," Rial answered. "She was stricken with it many years ago according to her physician, but only recently have the symptoms manifested themselves."

"Rust lung, a terrible disease," Ise said. "She has my sympathies. I lost an uncle to it." She looked uncomfortable. "But, if General Riveth is not in command, who is?"

"That would be me," Rial said, suddenly feeling embarrassed. She must have been expecting someone with far more experience. "I...er...have gone through a rather meteoric rise trough the ranks, as it were. I'm a general now." He felt sheepish as he said it. It felt like such a...boastful way of saying it, though it was the only way he could think of.

Ise looked surprised at that, her facade cracking ever so slightly. "Is that so? Well, that is indeed an interesting turn of events. And how did this...meteoric rise through the ranks come about? Who appointed you?"

"Riveth did, Ma'am," Sid said, stepping forward. "There was a lot of shoutin' and screamin' and threats of bodily harm done upon them that disagreed, Milady."

"From what I have heard of the good general, that sounds about right," Ise said, looking Sid up and down. "And who might you be, sir?" she asked.

"His name is Sid, and he used to be in the Royal Guard under my command," Rial explained. "He is now my personal advisor and in charge of intelligence, and doing a damn good job at it as well."

"I see," Ise said, nodding. "Well, you seem like you've a good head on your neck, Mr...?"

"Just Sid, Milady," Sid said.

"Surely you have a last name?"

"Probably, but he won't tell us," Rial said, throwing a glance at the spy. "He won't tell me anything about his past either, so the only thing I know about him is his name, really...oh, and that he's a very good spy."

"Very mysterious, just like a good spy should be," Ise said, giving Sid a slight smile. "My father, I think, would agree, were he here with us today, may he rest in peace."

There was a moment of silence in respect for Ise's late father, and then Rial asked the question he'd been dying to ask since she had arrived.

"Why are you here, Milady?"

"Well, given the transpired events in the city, I certainly hope it is clear to you on whose side I stand in this conflict," she replied. "But just in case it is not, I wish to join you in the fight against Rehm. The King has been usurped, and I have no intention of letting such a thing slide without making one hell of a racket first. Unfortunately, I have lost many of my soldiers and guards to Rehm's lackeys, both in the city and in Caldhaven. I have beaten him back for now, however. As such, I do not have much in military assets to give you, but I _can_ you and your troops sanctuary in my city. Or at the very least, somewhere to send your wounded and sick so that they may recuperate and heal in relative safety."

That was the one thing Rial had been hoping for. He could not help himself but smile gratefully and take the lady's hand, shaking it even more.

"Thank you, Milady," he said. "That is a most generous offer and one I intend to accept gratefully. I am sure both our wounded and the excellent medics would appreciate it."

"Excellent, I shall have my hospital staff prepare themselves for new patients," Ise said. "Though I would appreciate it if you ferried in the wound with some...discretion. I would rather not have the airship suddenly materialise above Caldhaven and annihilate us."

"Of course, Milady," Rial said. "If there is one thing we have become exceedingly skilled at during the war, it's discretion. Hopefully, though, we will not need it."

"Ah? And why is that?"

"We have...plans for the airship," Rial said with a glance at Sid. "One that will, hopefully, rid us of that problem once and for all, just like we did with the other ships in Ironhill."

"Ah, I had a feeling that ruckus was your doing."

"Yes, well...I ordered it, certainly, but the sabotage itself was carried out by a small team of very skilled...contractors. From the outside."

"Would these...contractors happen to be a pair of assassins who were unfortunately and wrongly implicated in the assassination of King Robar?" Ise smiled at the surprise on both Rial and Sid's faces. "You are not the only one with skilled intelligence gatherers out there, General. At first I was confused by your use of the Hyrulian assassin and his companion, but then I realised that I had most likely gotten the wrong idea about them as well. I should very much like to meet them, to offer my apologies, congratulations and thanks."

"I am sure they would like to meet you as well, Milady, though I fear they are...indisposed at the moment. The mission took a lot out of them."

"Oh, that is disappointing, but I suppose I will have more than one chance to meet them as this war continues."

"Hopefully, it won't be prolonged that much," Rial said. "As soon as the airship is taken care of, Rehm will have no more tricks up his sleeve. We will finally be able to take on his armies properly in the field, and we will easily defeat them. The city will fall, and Rehm will be in prison for the rest of his life...or if I have my way, his head on a pike."

"A lovely image indeed," Ise agreed. "And one I hope comes to fruition. But, of course, that will be up to the King, once he is restored to his throne."

"Of course," Rial said.

"Well, General, that is really my business here concluded. I will be expecting your wounded with the best of care I can afford to give them, which is, if I may say so myself, quite excellent. I should be getting back...but I was wondering if perhaps I may see General Riveth before I leave? I would like to pay my respects..."

"Of course, Sid will take you to her," Rial said, nodding to Sid. "He may look a bit scruffy, but I trust him with my life."

"And mine too, apparently," Ise said, giving them a quick wink. "Very well, Mr. Sid, take me to the good general, please. And I will hopefully see you soon as well, General Vortan."

"Likewise, Milady."

"Please, just call me Ise."

He watched them go before sinking into his chair. Somehow, he had a feeling there had been a certain...undercurrent during the last part of their conversation. Just the way she had said it...and that wink. It had probably been for the joke about Sid, but it had certainly felt like it was aimed at him...

"Was she...?" he wondered.

"Flirtin'? Yes," Sid said as he poked his head inside the tent before disappearing, cackling with laughter.

Words could not describe the blush that covered Rial's face as he tried to bury himself in work.

A runner interrupted him once again, and this news wiped the blush right off his face and replaced the uncomfortable smirk with a brilliant smile.

"The southern gate has been taken."

* * *

**Soul Remnants**

**Chapter 64**

* * *

Rial watched as Sid marched off with his men and the royal engineer in tow. They would go to the closest refuelling station and execute the plan he had developed with Jedistern and, hopefully, finally end Rehm's sole advantage over them. Oh sure, Rehm still had most of the Royal Army under his command and control over most of the fortresses, but those would be pushovers compared to the damn airship. Another line of men were snaking its way over the field towards Caldhaven, cloaked by the early morning darkness. It had been a few days since Ise's visit, and Rial deemed it time to send their wounded over. He had tried to make a subtle suggestion about sending Riveth as well, but his aunt had thrown what could only be described as a tantrum at that, so she was still in the sick tent, making life miserable for Agneta and Angen.

He watched the column of soldiers for a few more minutes before returning to his tent, easing back in his chair and pointedly ignoring the mountain of reports he still had to read before noon. How had Riveth ever withstood the temptation of throwing them all on the fire and just getting them verbally from the men?

He focused his attention on the letter of passage he had received from Ise before she had left. It was a mere formality, of course, a paper that granted him free passage through her lands and such, but it was still...nice. Things were really looking up for the rebels these days, and it was about damn time, in his opinion. They had been forced to go through so much crap lately that it was an immense relief to find both a valuable new ally in Ise and receive the news that Mirn and the Princess of Hyrule had been successful in taking the southern gate and finally entering Lumina proper. He had already sent several messengers to greet them, and he could not wait for their reply.

Mirn's return would, unfortunately, most likely mean that Rial would no longer be in command. After all, the other general had years of experience on him, and it was only right...right?

It had been quite a horrifying experience when, upon further reflection on this, that Rial had realised he was enjoying command. The sheer responsibility of it all felt crushing sometimes, but he knew that the men trusted him, and so far he had managed to do quite well. Casualties were kept to a minimum, any and all encounters with the Royal Army ended in victory, they were rapidly approaching the point at which they could finally march on the capital and finally end this travesty of a war... He only hoped that Mirn was aware of the responsibility he would be shouldering.

He shook his head to banish those thoughts, realising he had no right to question the dedication of a much superiour officer and instead thought about the results of the Princess of Hyrule arriving at the camp. It would certainly be the last he saw of Sheik and the others. That was most likely the entire reason for her coming here, after all, to fetch her friends and go home. He would be sad to see the Hero and the others leave. Their help had been invaluable in the conflict so far, and he could easily imagine other scenarios in which their unique skills would come in handy.

He'd been worried about Link and Sheik, given the former's run-in with Iteos and his lecherous ways, but judging from the way those two remained inseparable these days, he assumed that things had worked out. They certainly had in the bedroom, it seemed, judging by the post-coital radiance emanating from them whenever they emerged from their tent. Where they found the energy was beyond Rial, but it was good to know that whatever wrench had been thrown in their works had been removed.

He happened to glance at the cot where Ard had slept for most nights in the past few months. Now there was an interesting development. Ard and the assassin—Lor was his name, apparently—had not emerged from the mage's tent at all since he had found them sleeping that day. The men standing guard outside reported all manners of strange sounds and lights coming from within the tent, but no violence had been witnessed or heard. Whatever they were doing, it involved magic, and Rial knew enough to stay far away from that.

His thoughts drifted back to Iteos, and he felt, as always, an overwhelming urge to clobber the man and throw him off a cliff somewhere. Preferably with a lot of sharp, pointy spikes at the bottom. And trolls to feast on his remains. If what he had said was true, that he had...done things with Victor, then all bets were off in regards to what Rial would do to him once his usefulness had come to an end. The honourable thing would be to ignore whatever had happened and let the man go with his men without bothering him...but sod honour! Iteos was lucky Sid had been there to stop the general that night, or else things would have turned very bloody indeed.

As always, his thoughts existed for no other reason than to be interrupted by messengers and runners, and another quickly found his way inside the command tent, standing to attention in front of Rial's desk. The general recognised this one as one of Sid's, which meant that this was important.

"Report," he told him.

"Sir," the messenger said, "I have returned from scouting in Urne."

"Really? That was quick," Rial said with surprise. "I thought you would be moving a bit slower than usual given that it's enemy territory."

"Urne is practically empty, sir, nothing but civilians left," the scout replied. "Discretion was not necessary. Even so, I had an armed escort back."

"Armed escort? Whose?"

"The mercenaries', sir."

"What, the ones you were sent to spy on?"

"The very same, sir. They had good lookouts, and I was spotted before I had a chance to set up. But they are...quite friendly, sir. I was invited into their camp and spoke with their leader at some length. I discovered their purpose here."

"Which is?"

"They were originally hired to conduct so-called ghost raids on the civilians, sir, to scare the population. They were to wear a mix of bandit and Royal Army clothing, to make the—"

"Populace think that military action was necessary along with rearmament," Rial finished. "To what end?" The answer hit him before the scout had a chance to open his mouth. "To make his response to any opposition to his plans seem reasonable, fighting fire with fire..."

The scout nodded. "Yes, sir. In return for the attacks, the mercenaries would receive not only substantial payment, but also a sanctuary."

"Sanctuary?" Rial raised an eyebrow. "How so?"

"I think it is best that the representative answers that question himself, sir," the scout said.

"He's here?"

"Waiting outside, sir."

"Send him in, then."

The representative was a strong-looking blonde woman wearing pitch-black armour, covered in intimidating spikes. The smile on her face was anything but intimidating, however, as was her rather sloppy approach to saluting. Rial returned it reluctantly, not sure if he should be respecting someone who had been attacking civilians. "Lieutenant Marin reporting, General Vortan," she said.

"I cannot honestly say I am pleased to meet you, Lieutenant," he replied. "As I understand it, you have been paid to attack my people—"

"A misunderstanding, sir," she said. "We were hired to raid villages, but we never touched a hair on the people's heads. We merely burned down their homes and farms."

He failed to see how that was any better.

"But in the reports there are numerous deaths—"

"People were killed, yes, but not by us."

"Then by whom?"

"General Agon and Countess Marlotta's men, sir," she said. "It was an explicit clause in the contract that we refused to harm innocents and non-combatants."

Rial could already feel a headache coming on. "I don't understand," he said. "You were hired to scare the countryside and justify Rehm's actions, but no killing was done? Why even hire you in the first place?"

"Because of our reputation, sir," she replied. "We were involved in quite a hubbub some time ago. Our name has become a symbol of fear _and_ horror."

"And who are you, then?"

Her eyes twinkled. "The Legion, sir."

* * *

"She hasn't replied yet," Sheik said, standing at the edge of the camp, scouting. "She would have replied by now, certainly."

"Will you relax?" Link said, standing just behind him with a mug of hot...something. He wasn't entirely sure what it was, but it tasted meaty so he assumed it was some sort of soup. "She's probably busy organising things. It's not exactly easy to lead an army. Besides, Kaiza's fast, but she's not _that_ fast."

Sheik shook his head. He knew that he should not worry too much about Zelda. After all, she was more than capable of taking care of herself, having proven that on more than one occasion. But the old guardian instinct in him did not rest easy, and the more time went by without her replying to his message, the more worried he got. But Link was right, she was probably very busy with planning and such, and he was putting unnecessary pressure on Kaiza.

"Here, drink something. Or eat something, because I have no idea what this stuff is," Link said, shoving another mug into Sheik's hand.

"Is that an order?" Sheik asked.

"Damn right it is," the Hero replied.

That made Sheik smile, and he took a sip of the drink...soup...whatever it was. He had questioned himself and the decision he'd made about his reaction to Link's incident with Iteos, but moments like these made him certain he had done the right thing. He would always hate the mercenary knight for what he had done, but he would not blame Link for what had happened. It would only end in tears for everyone, and that was the last thing he wanted.

"Knowing Zelda, she's probably telling this General Mirn guy exactly how to do a domestic invasion, telling him he has it easy since there's no insane bastard with magic powers waiting at the end of the field," Link said with a grin. "Not to mention that he doesn't have an army's worth of thieves at his back. I wonder how many trinkets and other things the Gerudo made off with when they went back home."

"Untold riches, I believe," Sheik said, enjoying the small talk that distracted him from his worries.

"What do you think she's gonna do when we see her again?" the Hero asked.

"Yell at us," Sheik said immediately, knowing exactly how Zelda would act. "Then hug us. Then yell at us some more. And then we will be locked in a tower for the rest of our lives. To protect the world, of course."

Link gave him a look. "That was either rehearsed or you've dealt with it before. Which is it?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Sheik said, grinning. "Bottom line is this: Zelda is very scary when she is angry, happy and protective at the same time."

"I already knew that, thank you very much."

"What I do worry about, however, is what she is going to do when she sees Kafei..." Sheik said, trailing off. "As I recall, they never really got on that well. That was why I was to be her protector instead of him."

"I thought all Sheikah were her bodyguards," Link said.

"Technically, yes, but some are...closer to her than others, I suppose," Sheik replied. "Kafei was mostly put to work, er, behind the scenes, I'd say. I suppose Impa saw the animosity early on and decided that they should have as little to do with each other as possible."

"Why didn't they get along?"

Sheik shook his head slowly. "I have no idea. It is a question I asked myself many times over the years...what I do know is that Zelda disliked him even more after he left...though that may have had something to do with the fact that he nearly killed me."

"I don't really appreciate that either, you know," Link said sourly.

"He _did_ say it was an accident," Sheik reminded him.

"We don't know if it's true, though."

"If it weren't, wouldn't he have taken any opportunity to kill me in the past few months?"

"Maybe, but still..."

"I am willing to give him the benefit of the doubt until I have had a chance to speak to Impa," Sheik said, putting a hand on Link's shoulder. "And as the nearly deceased...well, deceased once and a half, I reserve the right to veto this."

"Hmph, fine, but if he tries anything, his ass is mine," Link said.

"I thought mine was," Sheik said, winking.

"Oh, that one's too, but in a different way," the Hero said as he kissed Sheik's cheek. "Speaking of which..."

Sheik's mouth fell open. "Again? I can barely walk from the last time!"

"Hey, maybe I'll finally be able to do the impossible: Make Sheik take a bed day."

Sheik's blush could have lit up a world of darkness.

* * *

Pain radiating like a star from her thigh was the first thing Zelda became aware of when she woke up. It was so intense that her body automatically caused her to sit up and try to grab at the heavy bandages that were wrapped around it. The second thing she became aware of was the fact that she was wearing very little, barely even a robe along with undergarments, which was not proper at all. The third thing was Tira Siress standing guard just inside the small room Zelda was in. Only, she didn't realise it was Tira right away, and thought it was any other soldier. All these things resulted in her gasping in pain, surprise and embarrassment all at once coupled with a most un-royal jump that turned into an even more un-royal flop on the bed.

Her cheeks burning with a humiliated blush, Zelda tried to regain some semblance of dignity by gritting her teeth to ignore the pain and attempted to reseat herself in her most aristocratic manner. Except it didn't work at all, the pain from her thigh intensifying in response to the jostling from her movements. Again, she yelped.

"Your Highness," Tira exclaimed, abandoning her post immediately and attempting to help her princess.

"Leave it!" Zelda exclaimed, pushing Tira's hands away. "I can do it myself!" She grabbed one of the bedposts and, with some difficulty and grunting, pulled herself up into something resembling a seated position. She may have been injured but she was damn well not hopeless!

Tira looked rather helpless with her outstretched hands, hesitant to move away in case the princess decided to imitate a fish on land again. Zelda took the moment to study her, both to distract herself from the pain and to actually see what her new bodyguard actually looked like. She did not disagree with her last thought before falling unconscious. The soldier was quite attractive. Her body looked strong and fit, far bulkier than any of the frail, anaemic-looking aristocratic ladies Zelda usually dealt with as princess. Her hair was a little above shoulder-length, and dark, a little darker than auburn, or maybe it was just the light from the fireplace that it made look so. Her eyes seemed to be hazel, though a few shades lighter, almost looking like the golden orbs of the Gerudo. That, and coupled with her dark skin, made Zelda certain that Tira was at least part-Gerudo, probably diluted through several generations.

Was that why Zelda found her attractive? It would certainly explain a few things, such as her relationship with Aveil. Zelda was not sure if she could call it relationship, however. They were both princess of their respective peoples, and as such had certain...duties, which would prevent them from being together in something that was not "open". Not that they didn't take advantage of that whenever Aveil visited Hyrule in an official capacity, even though they tried to keep it a little discreet.

"Your Highness?" Tira said, shaking Zelda out of her reverie, the pain flaring up immediately.

"Sorry," Zelda said quickly, hoping that she hadn't been staring _that_ overtly.

"Nothing to apologise for, Your Highness," Tira said, straightening up and standing to attention. "Shall I call for the doctor?"

"No, no, not necessary," Zelda said, shaking her head. "And what did I say about titles? 'Zelda' or 'Princess' please, nothing else."

"Yes, Y—princess."

"Now, give me a status report."

"I am no strategist, Princess, I am not qualified to give official reports of that nature."

"But you've been awake while I have been out. Let us start with that: How long have I been out of it?"

"Two days, Princess."

"Oh my, that is quite a long time to be absent," Zelda said, trying to ignore the question she wanted answered the most. "Has anything of importance happened?"

"Only that we have fortified our position, Princess," Tira replied. "The officers took the liberty of preparing proper defences should our...invasion be taken badly."

"I should hope so," Zelda said with a nod. "Any word from...well, anyone? What is the Luminan part of the army doing?"

"Awaiting your orders, Princess, same as everyone else," Tira said. "They respected the late General Mirn so much that they will obey your every command, given that he named you the leader of the alliance, as they call it."

That surprised Zelda quite a bit. It took a hell of a lot of respect for a man to accept a foreigner's leadership. Mirn must have been loved by his men indeed. It saddened her that he had met such a grisly fate...and that was why Zelda knew she could not fail while in command. Anything less than complete victory would be an insult to the man's memory.

"All right," she said after a few minutes of thinking. "First things first, we need to establish contact with the rebels. Have them send out some runners who are familiar with the geography of the country to see if they can find. Others will go to the big villages and cities and see what kind of information they can dig up. Any word on whether the news of our assault on the gate having reached this Councillor Rehm?"

"Nothing official, Princess," Tira said. "But it is assumed that the gate defenders sent out messengers as soon as the army was spotted on the field."

"Then we can only assume that the Royal Army is marching upon us this very minute," Zelda said. "And it is quite unsafe for us to remain here."

Tira nodded, but said nothing. She probably assumed that her opinion on this did not matter. That was a thing that needed to go, Zelda thought. The last thing she needed was a personal protector with no mind of her own. "Princess," Tira suddenly said, "most of your personal guards were obliterated in the battle, and the remaining are wounded. Shall I find someone else to protect you?"

"Why on earth would I want that?" Zelda asked.

Tira hesitated. "I am hardly qualified to be a royal protector, Princess. I know nothing of the protocols, the traditions, the ways—"

"Which makes you perfect for the job," Zelda said, smiling. "I need a protector who is not concerned with all that, who acts without getting distracted by what is proper and not, someone who does not care for rules. You demonstrated that ability quite ably when you picked me up during the battle." Tira winced, and Zelda's smile widened. "Oh, yes, I have not forgotten about that, Tira Siress. It is quite unforgivable to manhandle royalty like that without explicit permission, the punishment for which will be the duty to do it again whenever necessary."

Her eyes wide like saucers, Tira gaped at the princess, who almost giggled but managed to rein in herself at the last minute.

"Oh yes, many consider it a punishment to be a bodyguard," Zelda said. "Though I suppose that is because I make my men nervous, even though it's not on purpose." She fixed her gaze on Tira. "Tell me, Tira, do I make you nervous?"

Tira's shoulders slumped in defeat, probably expecting a harsh punishment no matter how she responded. "A little, Princess."

"Why is that, Tira?"

"Well...you do not...act like I expected, Princess," Tira said, hanging her head in shame.

"How so?"

"All due respect, Princess, I expected you to be a little...hoity-toity. Snobbish."

"I see," Zelda said, nodding. "I take it you were not with the army during the war with Ganondorf, then?"

"No, Princess," Tira said. "I was not old enough."

"And you are how old now?"

"Eighteen, Your Highness," Tira said, straightening up and reverting to the proper honorific. "Joined up five months ago, but I have been training for all my life."

"Five months, you say? Then how is it that you managed to find yourself in the battalion of soldiers that I decided to bring with me to Lumina because they were all battle-hardened veterans from the war?"

"Express promotion?" Tira asked, sounding quite cheeky. It only made Zelda like her more.

"I can only assume that the officers consider you good enough to stand with the best, Tira Siress...or that you simply smuggled yourself along."

"With my helmet it is quite easy to be mistaken for a much older and experienced woman, Your Highness," Tira admitted.

"Then that was your first battle? You handled yourself quite well, especially when you were forced to kill someone," Zelda said, remembering how difficult her first kill had been. She'd been a wreck for days afterwards, but this young woman, barely older than herself had cleaved heads from shoulders like it was nothing.

"First battle, yes," Tira said. "First kill, no."

"Dare I ask who your first kill was?"

"Rapist, Your Highness."

"I'm sorry, I—"

"Legionnaire, Your Highness. Tried to ravage my sisters and myself, but he never had the time to get his cock out." Tira realised what she had said her princess a second later, and her jaw fell open and she turned away, probably wishing she was somewhere else...preferably down a hole.

"I have heard much worse language, Tira," Zelda said, grinning a little. "I have been with the army for too long to be offended by perfectly normal names for anatomic parts. And I am glad to hear that you dealt with the enemy in the same manner I would have. Oh, do turn around, you have not offended me."

"Even so, not my place to use such language in front of royalty, Your High—"

"Call me that one more time, Tira Siress, and I will make you call me honey-bunny for the rest of your life," Zelda warned her.

"Yes, Princess," the soldier said, clearly horrified at the prospect of having to use such a nickname.

Zelda's amusement was cut short as her thigh gave another throb of pain, and she knew she could not put it off any longer. Looking down at her bandaged leg, she sighed. "All right, what is the damage?" she asked. Even though she had studied under Kaura, there were limits to what diagnoses she could give herself based on the amount of pain alone. "What did the doctor say?"

"I can't explain it like a doctor can," Tira tried, trying to weasel out of having to tell her. That was warning sign number one.

"I don't need a doctor to explain it to me," Zelda said. "I want a straight answer, and doctors are experts on avoiding those."

"Surely it would be better to ask the surgeon who was responsible—" Warning sign number two.

"No, I'd rather hear it from someone I trust."

Silence. Warning sign number three.

"That bad, is it?"

"I am no medic, Princess, but I heard the word 'permanent'."

"Now you are simply playing stupid, Tira, and I will not accept such behaviour from my bodyguard. Out with it."

She looked anguished for a few seconds, but then Tira said, "I cannot explain in it as many words, but from what I understood the doctor says that your thigh has a few fractures that will heal just fine, but the muscle damage is permanent and cannot be reversed...that you will feel pain for the rest of your life." She lowered her head. "I'm sorry..."

"For what? Wasn't your fault I blundered into battle like a fool," Zelda said, refusing to look at her leg. So that was it, was it? She would be a cripple? All because she had been stupid and wandered into a trap with the other commander of the army. "In fact, you saved my life more than once, so...thank you for that, by the way." She fell silent for a minute, and then said, "I would like to speak to the doctor now, please."

"I will fetch him right away, Princess," Tira said, relieved about being able to leave the room whose atmosphere had turned very uncomfortable in the last few minutes. She stopped halfway through the door, as if remembering something. "There was a message for you by way of an unidentified messenger falcon, Princess," she said and pulled a piece of paper out from her pocket and handed it to the princess.

Zelda smiled at this. "What does it say?" she asked.

Tira shrugged. "I do not know, I did not read it."

"And the falcon?"

"With the other carrier birds."

"Thank you, that will be all. Fetch the doctor, would you kindly."

Tira saluted and left the room.

Zelda inspected the rolled-up message and saw that Tira had indeed not touched it other than for the purpose of delivery. That was encouraging and another point in her favour. She had definitely found her new bodyguard, Zelda decided, smiling. The message was a welcome distraction from the pain in her leg and the news of its future uselessness. She unrolled it, and smiled at the sight of Sheik's neat handwriting. It was encouraging, because it meant that Sheik was not stressed while writing, for once.

_Z,_

_Heard of your success in taking the gate. Relieved to know you arrived safely. The airship is still not neutralised, recommend that you and the army do not remain stationary for more than a few days at a time and keep moving. Will not reveal the location of the rebel army until a reply to this message has been received and verified to be from you. Looking forward to seeing you again,_

_S._

_And L says hello. Cannot believe I just wrote that._

The last part elicited a small laugh from her. Of course Link would insist on being included in the letter like that. It was a relief too, because it meant they were both okay. She also read the warning about the airship again, wondering just how dangerous a supposedly flying boat could be, but then knowing that Sheik had been dealing with the technological monstrosity and knew what to expect from it. She made a note to inform the officers as soon as possible about the threat.

The brief moment of relief was crushed once the doctor entered the room with a grave face. That was never good. And she knew immediately from the man's tone of voice that she was in for very bad news indeed, and leaned back, preparing to face it with a face just as grave. Might as well be properly royal for once.

* * *

"Why are you doing this?" Lor asked, slightly out of breath and drenched in sweat. He was sitting cross-legged on the floor, the palm of his right hand burning from the intense fire that had been burning there just moments ago. A few feet away from him, Ard was sitting in the same position, but he was simply observing him with those intense eyes of his. It unnerved Lor greatly.

"Do what?" the mage asked.

"This," Lor said while gesturing around him with his hands. "Teaching me to do this...even removing the suppression at all? You didn't know me, you owe me nothing!"

"Mages are rare," Ard said simply, holding out his hand. His face screwed up in concentration, and a small spark appeared in his palm. It ignited the air itself, and a small orb of fire was soon floating there. Already he was sweating, and Lor could see the how much of a strain this sort of control put on him. He gasped and lost control, and the orb burned out on its own. Now Ard was out of breath as well, taking a few moments to compose himself. "Now you," he said.

"Must be more of a reason than that," Lor said, shaking his head but nevertheless doing as Ard said. He had never been good at magic to begin with, but having to relearn to even make a small fire was so tiring. And it was such a pitiful flame too, nothing like the spells he had read about in books and heard in stories. Certainly having no potential to rival that of the Enlightened One. Ard had tried to explain why it was so difficult to do magic, something about there just being less potential energy in the air to use, but the technicalities went right over his head. To be honest, he was not even sure if Ard himself understood it completely.

He could not even make the spark ignite the air this time, the pathetic little ember fading away after a few seconds. He felt pathetic, but he was more tired than anything else, and they had only been at this for a few hours. He knew magic took a lot out of one, but this was ridiculous!

"Again," Ard demanded.

"Come off it, it's impossible!"

"Nothing is."

"Oh for f..."

And so the day went on.

"You never answered my question," Lor asked as they took a well-earned break in the early evening, which mostly consisted of them opening the tent flaps and letting in the cool winter air and downing as much water as humanly possible.

While it was discouraging that he was clearly not very skilled in the use of magic yet, it was also good to see that Ard was not much better off even though he had a lot more training than him. Or, Ard was far above him in the area of power, but his control seemed to be lacking quite a bit. That was probably why he was doing the fireball exercise along with him.

"I did answer it," Ard said, a boy of few words as always.

"You gave _a_ answer, not _the_ answer," Lor said, raising an eyebrow. "I might not be very good at this, but I can definitely read people."

Ard rolled his eyes, but was not forthcoming with the answer.

"I hope we're not disturbing," Link said as he and Sheik suddenly entered the tent, carrying several steaming bowls of soup. "We brought dinner."

"You are," Ard told them none-too-gently, but accepted the bowl nonetheless. "But thank you."

Lor watched Sheik carefully, noticing a well-hidden limp in the older boy's step, and could not help but grin. It had gotten more and more pronounced over the days. They were making up for lost time, probably.

It had turned into a routine, this. All day he was taught to use his gift by Ard, and Sheik and Link would turn up at around dinnertime. The Hero of Time had been skeptical towards Lor at first, but they had soon enough found the tone, and the fact that Lor had helped Sheik escape was definitely a big point in his favour. They would eat and speak of unimportant things. Well, Sheik, Lor and Link would speak, Ard would listen with fake disinterest, especially when Sheik was the speaker. There was an infatuation there, Lor saw, but not of the romantic kind. Perhaps a bit of hero worship? It was almost cute.

This time was important for all of them, in that it was an hour or two set aside for them just being relatively normal people. A safe place where they did not have to think about the war and the terrible things that were happening. A time of peace, as it were, not spent around soldiers. Kafei did not join them despite being invited, understandably enough electing to be with Elenwe, who was recovering rather well despite her grievous injuries.

At some point, Lor excused himself to clear his head a little with a walk. He knew what would happen next, and smiled slightly as Sheik suddenly appeared at his side, joining him.

"Sure you should be walking around in your state?" he asked, feeling a certain sense of satisfaction when Sheik clearly blushed under his mask.

"Is it that obvious?" the Sheikah asked quietly. It was very endearing.

"You are speaking to a whore, I've been there."

"Right..."

"I have a feeling there's something you want to ask?"

Sheik looked at him. "I am just wondering if you are...okay. If you feel like you have made the right decision in staying."

Lor had never specifically said that he was going to stay with the rebels, but he had a feeling it was generally understood that he was.

"I don't second-guess my decisions very often, but when I do it doesn't take long for me to reverse it," Lor said. "If I were having doubts about this I wouldn't be here to have this conversation with you." He stopped and looked at Sheik, sighing. "Look, I know you're worried about me. Yes, I'm still upset that Jeryd is dead, and I'm jealous that you get to be with the person you love while mine lies dead in the burned guildhall, but this..." He motioned around him and pointed at his tattoo, which was now just a superficial mark rather than the magical shackle it had once been. "This feels right."

Sheik nodded. "I'm glad it does...and for what it is worth, if there was a way to bring Jeryd back, I would not hesitate to do it."

"And then he would clobber you over the head for doing it because, if I knew Jeryd right, he was of the opinion that the dead should stay dead," Lor replied. "But thank you. And before you say it, yes, Jeryd would not want me to wallow and pine for him, and should try and find someone else."

"I was not about to say that, but sure thing," Sheik said jokingly. "Just stay away from Sir Iteos. The man is a fiend."

"Oh, I know that," Lor said, shrugging. "He was a regular at the guildhall when he visited Ironhill a few years back."

Sheik paused. "Is that so? What was he doing there?"

"I have no idea, taking in the sights?" Lor chuckled at the notion of someone having their holiday in the industrial city. "Maybe he had business there?

Sheik looked suspicious, but shrugged after a little while. "Perhaps you are right."

Lor snorted. "As if."

Sheik shrugged again. "Stranger things have happened. But your point is taken, and I will mention it to the general and say that perhaps it would be a good idea to keep a closer eye on him...though I have a feeling he is already doing just that."

"Frankly, I'd like to see him run out of the camp, but apparently he is 'important' to the war effort, so..."

" _He_ is not important, his men are," Sheik said.

"Of course, of course..."

"That's the unfortunate thing about war," Sheik said. "It forces you to work with the worst of people."

"And he is definitely the worst."

* * *

**Soul Remnants**

**Chapter 65**

* * *

_The Chimera_ glided silently in the night sky, her engines shut down for a few minutes in order for the crew to prepare for the landing sequence. Strictly speaking, it was not necessary anymore now that the crew was more than familiar with the ship's workings and her eccentricities, not to mention her tendency be rather cranky if not enough attention was paid to her delicate machinery. Still, it was part of the procedure, and the captain of the ship was not one to break protocol unless it was necessary. It wasn't because he was afraid of getting into trouble with his superiors that he didn't, but because that, upon taking command of the vessel, Jedistern Tadian, its designer and builder, had warned him that the ship was based on completely new technology and that he had no idea how far it could be pushed before, in his words, bits and pieces would begin to fall off and pandemonium would break out.

At first the captain, a long-time veteran of various navies around the world, had scoffed at this and attempted to treat the ship like any other sea-faring vessel. It did not take long for him to realise that travelling through the skies was a completely different matter to travelling across the seas. Wind, for example, became a whole different beast up here compared to what it was on the sea. His biggest, and therefore last, mistake had happened when a particularly strong air current had been building up the entire day and the captain, arrogantly thinking he was the master of the air just like he was the master of the sea, had sailed straight through it. _The Chimera_ had nearly been tossed upside down when it turned out that it was actually a powerful storm that had been brewing up. He lost five crewmembers that day, thrown over the side by the strong winds. Never again, he vowed.

Disaster had nearly struck again the night they had been hunting the rebel army of General Riveth. The airship's mighty cannons had nearly destroyed the army and had them on the run when several powerful gusts of wind had threatened to throw the vessel into the cliffside, which would have been catastrophic if the gasbag had been punctured. The armour plating was strong, but the captain highly doubted that it could withstand being crushed against sheer rock with the weight of the whole ship behind it. It had turned out later that the strange wind had been conjured forth by the army's mages. It was another reason for the captain to hate magic, even if he had disliked it strongly to begin with. Magic was the thing that had nearly caused Lumina's destruction so long ago, after all. It was only proper to be wary around it, to hate it. The last thing Lumina needed right now was for the Goddesses to grow angry again and inflict more calamities on it. So the captain had decided to be careful when looking for the rebels from then on. They would never drop below a certain height, one where they could still easily see and, if necessary, fire upon the rebels, but stay out of harm's way, magical or otherwise. Of course, it was a mere precaution, really. The captain had no idea how far those mages' reach were, but better safe than sorry...

These were the things that made the captain a very firm believer in the protocols of aeronautical travel and handling. It was bad enough to constantly be under the risk of magical danger, much less danger they caused themselves by being sloppy. And really, it only took about ten to fifteen minutes to prepare compared to the months and months, if not years, it would take to repair the ship if it crashed. Actually, if the accident happened above the refuelling station, then it would probably take less time to just build a completely new one.

As he gave the order to signal the refuelling station below that they were beginning their descent by slowly releasing hydrogen gas from the bag that kept them floating, the captain began to wonder how long it would take for the war to be over. His superiors all promised him that as soon as the rebels were finished, it would end. It had sounded easy. Just swoop in, wipe them out with the cannons and be home in time for supper. How could they possibly be able to hide when there was an airship hunting them?

Unfortunately, they had underestimated just how large the forests of Lumina were, and the rebels' ability to utilise them to their advantage. The tree canopies were too thick to see through, and the rebels were exceptionally skilled at hiding their fires and stopping smoke plumes from rising beyond the trees. The captain had no idea how they did it, and told his superiors as much. They had simply told him to continue searching, and so the captain had. At one point, the superiors' patience began to run out, and they demanded the airship and its crew to question civilians, to force the answers out of them if necessary. As it turned out, more than one village and its population swore by the rebels rather than the King, and that was enough to make the superiors see red.

When the captain had first received the order to make an example of several villages—harmless little farming, mining and fishing communities—to scare off any more supporters of the rebels, he had thought for certain that a mistake had been made. After asking for clarification, he had been given a curt, but edged reply that said that he would do as ordered, or face execution for dereliction of duty during a time of war. So he had obeyed, but it did not sit well with him. Understatement of the year, he told himself. He had been unable to sleep for days after completely annihilating a small village close to the home of Jedistern Tadian. He wondered if the engineer had seen it, what he thought of his precious creation being used for such a thing.

It had come as a relief, the news that two more airships were being built and were almost ready for launch, as these were dedicated combat vessels, and would be put to use in scaring the civilian population instead of _The Chimera_ , which would be dwarfed by these mighty vessels indeed. The captain had hoped that his ship would be put back to its original use, as a personal transport for the King, as soon as the new ships were ready. But it was not to be. The news of the Ironhill ships being sabotaged and bombed to hell and back had struck another blow to his conscience, as he knew that his ship would once more be used for scaring and killing civilians.

That was why he was keeping a letter of resignation in the inner pocket of his uniform jacket. Frankly, he wanted to scuttle the ship and be rid of it forever, or "accidentally" crash it so it could not be used for its terrible mission for a long time, but it went against every military code there was, and years and years of integrating these into his own being made it impossible for him to it. So he would simply resign, and hope that the next person to be put in command of the ship would screw up and crash it. He would surely be demoted for this, if not downright discharged...or court-martialled. But at least _he_ would not be the one killing innocents anymore. And that was all he wanted. It was all he deserved.

There were several bright flashes of light from the station below, an answering call to the morse code sent from the ship while he had been thinking. They confirmed that they were ready to receive them. Then the gaslights were turned on, and the entire station was lit up brilliantly, including the platform built specifically for the airship to land on. The captain disliked this particular station. It was in the middle of nowhere, too far away from the closest city, Caldhaven, for the crew to be able to get some real rest and relaxation among friendly faces. Not that the faces in Caldhaven would be too friendly, from what the captain had heard of recent events involving ex-Councillor Ise.

"We're ready to descend and dock, Captain," the first mate said from behind him. The captain turned to him and nodded.

"Very well. Take us in."

"Aye-aye, sir."

The captain sighed and patted the left breast of his jacket, where he knew the resignation lay safe. He supposed he would have to wait until he got to a real military outpost before submitting it—this station was barely fit to be called a camp. The only permanent things around here were the command building (a converted hovel, he was sure) and the gas tanks. The barracks were all tents and the walls surrounding the camp were simple palisades, hardly fit for keeping enemy troops out.

Outside, the world grew larger and larger as _The Chimera_ dropped below the clouds, then the highest treetops before hovering above the docking cradle on the platform, waiting for the ground crew to prepare to catch the mooring cables. Another signal was given, and the ship dropped into the cradle, sliding along the metal for a few feet before coming to a full stop. Mooring cables were tossed from the sides of the ship, and the "anchor" was dropped. The ground crew swiftly tied the cables to the cradle, ensuring that the ship was held completely in place, no matter what happened to the gas that kept it afloat.

The captain rose from his chair and left the bridge, approaching the gangplank. A special sort of moveable staircase on wheels was moved to the side of the ship, allowing the crew to get off the ship in a more comfortable manner than the narrow planks that usually served as their exit. The captain stood to the side, listening as the machinery within the airship was shut down completely and the crew began to emerge from its bowels, more than ready for a day or two on land. He nodded to each and every one of their salutes. They were loyal, he knew. Unfortunately not to him, but the King. He had seen no sign of remorse on the gun crew's faces as they unloaded salvo after salvo on the innocent villages, had seen no hint of sadness in the first mate's eyes upon receiving news of their destruction. They all thought it was necessary to end the war. They were wrong. Only after the first mate had stepped off the ship, the next to last one to do so, did the captain himself leave the vessel. First on, last off. Those were the rules. Silly, really. Surely it should have been the other way?

His thoughts were interrupted as the station commander approached him. The captain frowned. He did not recognise this man. Then he reminded himself that he rarely remembered what the station commanders looked like, not to mention that the crew rotations were high given the demanding amount of work involved in running these places.

"Commander," the captain said, stepping forward and offering the commander his hand, which was taken and shaken firmly.

"Captain," the commander replied with a nod. "Welcome back to the ground."

"Thank you."

"Pleasant trip?"

"The trip itself, yes. Its purpose, no," the captain said, shaking his head sadly.

"Aye, I can imagine," the commander said, mirroring the captain's headshake. "Terrible thing, this war. Hard to believe we're fighting our own..."

"Hard to believe they think they can win," the captain added. "It is only a matter of time before they are found and crushed. Surely they must be running out of men by now."

"Apparently not," the commander said. "I hear they are receiving reinforcements from all over Lumina, including a few foreign helpers."

This was the first the captain had heard about foreigners getting involved. His eyes widened. "Foreigners? Who?"

"Hyrule, from what I have heard. General Mirn, the damn traitor, took the southern gate with the help of their princess a week ago."

Why was I not informed?!" the captain demanded, outraged at being kept out of the loop for so long. "We could have prevented it with the airship!"

The commander held up his hands in a gesture of peace. "I don't know, Captain. I was only informed of it a few hours ago myself." He leaned in conspiratorially, lowered his voice, and said, "Rumours have it that the war effort isn't going as well for us as our superiors would like us to believe. The rebels are growing stronger and stronger by the day, and apparently it is not too long before they are numerous enough to pose a real threat to the Royal Army." He leaned away. "But you did not hear that from me. The last thing we need is for information like that to ruin the men's morale, eh?" He tapped the side of his nose.

"Mum's the word, as one would say," the captain replied with a nod, feeling the outrage still a bit. He was glad he was not the only one being kept in the dark. He sighed and leaned on the railing of the docking platform, looking down on the crew of the station and ship as they interacted, studying the men that were preparing to refuel the ship. Maybe it was his imagination, but they looked a bit more uncomfortable with the task than usual, as if they were not as practices as usual... "So, we might be losing, huh?" he asked.

"Losing is a strong word," the commander replied, his cane clicking against the metal floor as he hobbled over to stand next to the captain. "But yes, there is a significant risk."

"Bloody hell," the captain said, sighing again. "Who would have thought that General Riveth, of all people, would be able to bring Lumina to its knees."

"Strong woman, that one," the commander said. "Apparently not her that's in charge anymore, though."

"Then who?"

"Rial Vortan, her nephew."

"The one who tried to kill the King?"

"The very same."

"Damn him to hell, the traitor," the captain murmured, wondering whether or not the things he had been forced to do could have been avoided had the ex-bodyguard actually succeeded in slaying the young King.

"And his men," the commander added.

"Indeed." The captain blinked. "Commander, why are your cannons pointing into your base?" he asked.

"Oh, been having some maintenance issues," the commander said, shrugging. "Misfirings, all that. Been told that the engineers are coming to take a look this week, but we both know what a bunch of liars they are when it comes to it, eh?"

"Right," the captain said, nodding slowly, finally realising that something was very wrong here. "Tell me, commander," he said as he turned to face the other man, "what is today's pass-phrase?"

The commander paused, looking confused. The seconds stretched out for an eternity, and the captain prepared himself to draw his sword and skewer the commander when the other opened his mouth and spoke, "'Boots stacked prettily make for better travels'."

The captain relaxed, nodding. "Thank you, commander. I am sorry, I just needed to be certain—"

"No need to apologise, captain," the commander said, shaking his head. "I realise things must be tense on that ship, and it did take me an embarrassingly long time to remember that phrase. What an idiotic one, by the way. What the hell do the aesthetics of boot piles matter for the quality of travel?"

"I suppose it is not the meaning that matters in the end, only whether or not the other person knows it," the captain said, feeling himself relaxing a lot more now. Only he, the station commanders and Jedistern Tadian would know these phrases. "A good way to weed out any eventual spies and such."

"I guess you are right, captain," the commander agreed. "I just wish I didn't have to memorise so much nonsense. At least it was not as bad as last week."

"Which was?"

"'Wire men care not for comfortable shoes'," the commander replied. "That's just gibberish."

"Mr. Tadian is a very strange fellow if his codebook is anything to judge him by."

"Given what he has created," the commander said and motioned towards the ship, "I think that would be a very accurate statement, captain."

The captain was about to reply when there was a large commotion down below. A scuffle had broken out between the ground crew and the airship crew, their voices so loud that they even drowned out the din and hisses of the refuelling mechanisms. The captain was prepared to let it slide, thinking it was just his men needing to let out some pent-up aggression and intending to lecture them about it later when he realised that the men below were not just fighting with their fists. Several had drawn their weapons. Many were already bleeding, some lying motionless on the ground.

"What the hell is going on down there?!" he exclaimed, looking at the commander, who simply looked down at them with an amused expression.

"I reckon it was only a matter o' time before things got started," the commander said, his voice changing rapidly along with his accent. "Gettin' pretty heated down there."

"Captain, captain!" the first mate said as he raced up the stairs of the platform, bleeding heavily from a stab wound in his side. "We've been betrayed, they're reb—agh!" He was unable to finish his sentence as an arrow struck him from behind, fired from one of the palisades. He fell face-first onto the steps, dead.

The captain, half in shock, drew his sword and made to swing it at the traitorous commander, but found that the man was standing with his face inches away from his own, far too close for any swing to be harmful. He felt a sharp pain in his stomach and looked down. A knife was buried deep in his flesh. He looked up, into the commander's apologetic face.

"Sorry 'bout this, cap'n," Sid said, withdrawing his blade from the man's gut before swiftly slashing him across the throat. The captain choked, holding his bleeding neck as he fell to his knees, still staring up at him. "Nothin' personal, but ye did bring it on yerself by torchin' those villages. Don't worry, though. I'll be takin' _real_ good care of yer ship."

The spark of life disappeared from the captain's eyes, and he fell over, dead. Sid cleaned his knife with a rag and leaned down, rooting through the man's pockets, retrieving a letter from his inner pocket. He quickly read it, looked down at the dead captain and shook his head sadly.

"Should've handed this in earlier, mate," he said, ripping it up and tossing it to the wind. He focused his attention on the crew down below, seeing that most of the airmen were already dead, the rest being rounded up and tied up.

It had been almost too easy, this operation. Taking over the station had been the hardest part by far, but impersonating the commander and running the station for a few days had been laughably simple. Either Lady Luck was finally smiling upon the rebels and making life easier for them...or life was building up to something big to crush them all. Either way, _The Chimera_ was finished. He looked up at the ship, still amazed at how big it was. And the ships at Ironhill had apparently been _even bigger_!

He nodded to himself.

"Th' Cap's definitely gonna love this t' death," he said. He paused, glancing down at the previous captain. "No offense, mate," he told the corpse. He hobbled towards the stairs, cursing his painful knee and began to descend, already thinking of the message he intended to send to Rial. It had to be grand, that he knew, given the magnitude of what he had just accomplished. And theatrical, because everyone loves that, no matter how much they deny it. Perhaps there was a wax seal somewhere he could use...

* * *

**Soul Remnants**

**Chapter 66**

* * *

The city of Caldhaven was surprisingly bustling given the fact that its leader, Ise, had more or less been declared an outlaw. Instead of fleeing the city and trying to find somewhere else to live where they would not be at risk of being hunted by Rehm's troops, they stayed behind and helped to fortify the positions and walls. Caldhaven had not been designed as a military fortress, but Ise had thought ahead and ordered in weapons, armour and artillery to mount a solid defence. She would not go down without a fight, that was for damn sure.

The news of _The Chimera's_ grounding had been met with unanimous celebration from the rebel troops. Finally they were able to establish a more permanent position, and Ise had wasted no time in offering room for Rial's men. And that was how Link and Sheik found themselves walking through the gate of Caldhaven among a throng of soldiers who were intent on invading the closest tavern and getting roaring drunk, their first opportunity to truly rest indoors in months.

Sheik had been sceptical towards the idea, thinking that now was truly the time to forge ahead, to get the Royal Army on the run, but apparently that was not a good idea according to Rial. The troops were tired and needed some way of recuperating from the many months of constant travelling. Morale was high, but that alone was not enough to keep them going. And Sheik could not disagree with Rial after seeing the weary faces of the men and women around them as they had packed down the camp for the last time and left for Caldhaven.

It had probably been a beautiful city before the ugly business of the war. There was a lot of marble and white stone used in the construction of its buildings, but steel plating and other defensive measures were covering up a lot of it. Cannons were being mounted on the walls, and battlements were hastily improvised. It was ugly business, but the people seemed no less happy about it. Perhaps they had been waiting for a break in the standstill that had developed, or maybe Ise throwing herself into the war effort simply had them excited. They certainly seemed loyal to her and her alone, rather than the King.

And the rebel troops' reception was, if not jubilant than at least warm. There were no rose petals raining down on them or people gathered in the streets to watch them marching triumphantly into the city, but there were friendly welcomes and stalls lining the curbs that offered them free hot food and drink. They were told that the inns were open for them no matter what they could pay, if at all, and the guard barracks had been cleaned up and expanded just for them. For the soldiers of Riveth's once-considered traitorous battalion, this was the friendliest way they had been treated in years.

Riveth herself was currently quartered in Ise's estate, in the biggest guest room and surrounded by the best doctors she could afford. That is, the best doctors she could afford were allowed to watch as Agneta treated the ex-general, with Angen assisting.

Rial, on the other hand, was on his way to the refuelling station where Sid had managed to capture the airship without destroying it, most likely intent on finding ways to exploit their situation. Jedistern Tadian was going with him as a technical advisor, though it was no secret that he wanted the thing destroyed. It would come as a surprise to no one if word was sent that the ship had been scuttled and melted down to slag.

Sheik shook his head and focused on where they were going. He and Link had no real plan for the visit to the city. They were only there in order to wait for Zelda to begin with. A deal had been made where she and the army would march to Caldhaven and wait until Rial came back from the refuelling station, so that a proper plan could be drawn up. News of General Mirn's death had not gone over well with anyone, but at least reinforcements were still incoming, and spirits rose when it became known that Princess Zelda of Hyrule herself was coming to help.

Sheik didn't know whether Zelda was going to stay and see the war through, however. The messages sent between them were short and concise, and the princess avoided answering that particular question directly, which meant she was either unsure of what to do, or that there was something important that needed to be discussed before she could make that decision. Sheik was leaning towards the latter, knowing that Zelda would not have hesitated to throw herself into the war given all the things that had happened.

"I suppose we should find the councillor's estate first," Sheik said as they reached a busy square. Civilians were mingling with the rebels, surely asking them a million questions and lavishing them with praise for standing up to the tyrannical rule of Rehm. Several musicians had set up next to the fountain and were serenading the gathered with beautiful, if rustic, tunes. The buildings were still impressively tall here despite the city's modest size, and many of them were obscuring the view. Surely the city leader's personal residence would be in the very middle, or at the highest point, of the city? Personal invitations to stay there had been extended to the officers and "foreign dignitaries" in the army, which meant Sheik, Link, Kafei and Elenwe. Strangely enough, the invitation included Jeryd's name, meaning that Ise had not been told of her former assistant's death. Sheik hoped to the Goddesses that he would not be the one who had to tell her.

"Do we have to?" Link asked, looking around excitedly. That was a surprise, in Sheik's opinion. Link had been raised as a Kokiri, a child of the forest, and had never been particularly comfortable in major cities, not even Castle Town, but now he was positively eager to explore Caldhaven.

"What's gotten into you?" Sheik asked. "You hate cities, remember?"

"No I don't," Link protested, looking at him. "I just dislike them. But this place...I don't know, I just feel...I want to explore it."

"Well, we do have some time before the dinner..." Sheik said hesitantly. He wanted to explore the city as well, if only to scout out how well it would do during an eventual siege and whether or not it was truly defensible, but based on what had happened lately he was sure that something bad would happen. It was only par for the course when it came to them, after all. When Link fixed him with a pleading look that melted his heart, however, he relented and nodded. "Fine, but only a few hours, okay? I'd like to have some time to make myself presentable before we join the councillor for dinner." He paused after saying this, wondering when he had become the kind of person who cared about being proper and such at formal occasions. Oh, he had always been a slave to perfection, of course, but for Zelda's sake, and only because he was to remain in the shadows, watching while she hobnobbed with the nobs. Now he was doing it because…well, he was a nob himself.

"Look at you, being all earl-y," Link said, bumping him with his shoulder. "It's too cute."

"Link, please, not here," Sheik said, hoping no one had heard the Hero as a small blush presented itself on his cheeks. _Thank the Goddesses for the mask,_ he thought.

"Awww, so cute," Link said a little louder.

"Fine, let's just go!" Sheik exclaimed, grabbing Link by the arm and forcibly dragging him along one of the streets leading from the square. The Hero chuckled, very pleased with himself to Sheik's chagrin. "Where do you want to go first?"

"Dunno, let's just walk," Link replied.

And so they explored Caldhaven for a few hours, ambling down every street and alley they could find. Every now and then they were stopped by soldiers who recognised them and wanted to have a chat, or just to extend their congratulations for the Ironhill excursion. Link seemed to be having the time of his life, which again made Sheik wonder what was going on. By the time Link suggested that they should take a look at the very busy marketplace, Sheik stopped him and pulled him into a quiet alley close by.

"Okay, what is going on with you?" he asked. "You've said it yourself on many occasions: you dislike cities. Why are you suddenly so interested in this one?"

"What, I can't change my mind about something?" Link asked.

"Not when you were raised as a Kokiri and suddenly decide that you like the very antithesis of the forest," Sheik said, leaning against a wall. "You didn't get like this before we got the dinner invitation—what is going on?"

Link grinned. "Nothing is going on, what are you—"

"Link, I can tell when you're lying. Please stop lying to me." The words were said in the deadpan way that Sheik reserved for the times when he needed Link to take him completely seriously. It had the intended effect, because the Hero suddenly looked very guilty, scraping the paving stone beneath his feet with a boot. "I think we have passed the point where I have to tell you that you can talk to me about anything," he added with some emotion in his tone, honestly worried now. Was there more to the ugly business in the camp that he had not been told about?

"It's really stupid," Link said, not meeting his eyes.

"I will be the judge of that," Sheik said. "Now tell me."

"I wanted us to miss the dinner," Link admitted, kicking a stray rock. The sound echoed slightly in the alley, which was much quieter than the rest of the city. Not even the din from the nearby marketplace reached into the little nook.

Sheik blinked. "What?"

"I wanted to miss the dinner," Link repeated a little louder.

"Why?"

"Why do you think?" Link asked, sounding angry.

Sheik thought about it. True, Link had never been big on the fancy parties and dinners. The only one Sheik could remember the Hero attending with any pleasure was the celebration party after the war with Ganondorf had ended...and he strongly suspected that was only because of his plan to reveal his and Sheik's relationship in front of the whole military command. But he also knew that Link was very good at gritting his teeth and just getting through things he found unpleasant, and he couldn't imagine why dinner with Ise would be such an unpleasant affair. After all, the people who would attend were people he knew mostly, or rebel officers who knew who he was and respected him for it. Oh, and the mercenaries'...leader...

He wanted to slap himself for not even considering the possibility that Sir Iteos would attend the dinner, and felt like an even bigger fool when he came to the conclusion that, yes, Iteos would most likely take the opportunity to talk big about himself and—heaven forbid—seduce the hostess. Or leer at his latest conquest...

"Iteos will be there," Sheik said out loud, feeling awful when he saw the silent nod from the Hero.

Of all the things Link had gone through in his still relatively short life, all the terrible events he had to bear witness to and the horrible decisions he had been forced to make...none of that had seemed to affect him in the slightest. He'd shrug it off and be back to his carefree self, even when forced to remember it all.

But one mention of Iteos' name, and the normally energetic and just _happy_ Hero of Time became sullen, almost skittish and...what was that he saw on Link's face? Humiliation?

It only made him regret his decision not to slit Iteos' throat when he had the chance even more. Sheik didn't care what happened to himself—the world could burn him, freeze him, maim him...hell, it had even killed him at one point, but there was one thing it did _not do_! Link, along with Zelda, was sacred ground. Hurt them, and he would not rest until the perpetrator had been punished severely...

He stepped forward, and was disappointed when Link took a step back, looking ashamed. It only strengthened his resolve, and he closed the distance, drawing the Hero into a tight hug. "You can't let this beat you," he whispered. "That's what he wants. He _wants_ to see you ashamed, _wants_ to see that even being in the same room as him can affect you in a negative way. Don't let him win, Link, don't let him win..."

"I can't..." Link tried to say, his voice breaking slightly.

"Yes, you can, because I will be right there, and if he as much as _looks_ at you in the wrong way, I will take...measures."

"You can't," Link said, drawing back and looking him in the eyes. "You can't," he repeated. "He's too important for the army."

"Hopefully not for long," Sheik said. "With Zelda coming, he will probably be asked to leave."

"But you have to leave him alone," Link said seriously. "Don't do anything to him."

"Why not?" Sheik felt the beginnings of anger flaring up in his chest. Why was he not allowed to hurt those who hurt his?

"Because you're better than that," Link hissed, putting his forehead against Sheik's. "You're much better than that. That reaction? That's Old Sheik, the assassin whose only purpose in life was to protect and kill for Zelda. The one who didn't hesitate to kill anyone. Please...you're so much more than that..."

Sheik sighed in frustration. "Fine," he mumbled. "I won't touch him. But we're going to that dinner, and we're going to show that bastard that it's going to take a lot more than what he did to break us. Right?"

"Yeah," Link said, giving him a small smile. "Let's show him."

"I reserve the right to glare at him, though," Sheik added, giving Link a mock one.

"I'm counting on it," Link said, smile widening. "But first the market!"

Sheik sighed again, but this time with more amusement than anything else, and nodded. "Fine, let's go."

As Link led the way through the stalls and pointed at this and that, back to his more realistic energetic level rather than the clearly forced one he'd been putting on earlier that day, Sheik was already putting a plan together.

 _I'm sorry, Link,_ he thought, his jaw clenched. _But I'm not much more than that._

Iteos was a dead man, and if things went as Sheik was currently planning...well, then no one would find out.

"Look, horses!"

He smiled with amusement. Of course Link would gravitate towards the horse traders. Ever since Epona and Maladict had gone missing, there had been a certain something...well, missing. They had gotten so used to the routine of tending to their mounts in the mornings and evenings and...things just weren't the same without them. Of course, Link did not intend to buy a horse, he was still holding out hope that playing Epona's song on his ocarina would one day work again, probably as soon as they left Lumina and whatever it was that suppressing magic there.

Sheik, however, had his doubts. For one, the way Shun had appeared at Angen's inn so many months ago, all torn up by an apparent troll attack. Not once during their travels had Sheik ever seen Epona or Maladict leave their filly alone, much less abandon her. He didn't know if her finding him was sheer luck or some sort of sign of a spiritual connection or whatever, but he had a feeling that, if her parents were okay, at least one of them would have accompanied her. The thought of either Epona or Maladict being killed by trolls was horrifying enough...but what if both parents had been taken by surprise...and Shun had been left alone? It was one of those thoughts that tormented him at night when he could not sleep. But he was prepared to accept that as the truth if it did indeed turn out that way...though he feared how Link would react...

Still, it was nice to see Link petting and, while receiving strange looks from the traders, introducing himself to the animals. That was the side of Link Sheik liked the most—the innocent side, the side that loved all animals and abhorred fighting and war.

"And who are you then? So big and strong and...and..."

Sheik heard him trail off and took his eyes off the rather amusing transaction that was taking place between two heavily haggling traders to see what had him so shocked.

"Sheik!"

"What?" he asked, walking over and seeing what had Link so surprised...and stopped in his tracks. "Can't be..." he whispered.

The midnight black coat of hair, the tall stature, the proud gaze...

"Maladict..." Sheik said, slowly stepping forward, unable to believe that it was his horse that was standing in the stall, staring back at him with recognition clear in his eyes. He snorted, lowering his head. Sheik was just a few feet away when a burly man suddenly stepped in front of him, blocking his way.

"Hey, be careful, kid!" he barked. "That one'll take your fingers off faster than you can scream!"

Sheik frowned. "Where did you find this horse?" he asked, knowing that the answer to his question would decide whether or not the conversation would conclude in a civil manner.

"Find 'im? Had 'im for years," the burly trader said, grinning in the way that men who knew they had just lied usually do. "Been a proud breeder, in fact. Had an accident a few months that left him useless, though, and cranky like hell. Won't let anyone approach 'im, not even me! Killed a stableboy a few weeks back, even. Had to get him here by force. I'll sell him to you cheap, 'cause he's just a waste of time and money at this point.""

"Accident? What kind of accident?" Sheik asked, ignoring the part about buying back his own horse for the sake of his sanity.

"Left 'im full of scars and almost lame," the trader clarified.

"Is that so...?" Sheik asked, already seeing red. He had just noticed that Maladict was keeping one one leg off the ground. His hindquarters were full of scars and patches of missing hair, and he was clearly not very well off. He was looking rather thin, too, which could only mean that he was not being fed properly. He felt a hand on his shoulder, and saw that Link was shaking his head, as if to warn him not to lose his temper.

_Too late..._

"Well, sir, I would rather we skip the formalities and get right down to business," Sheik said, fixing the man with his glare, making sure that he saw that they were red. "That horse belongs to me. I would very much like him back."

The man was unnerved by the glare, but he shook his head. "Hah, nice one, kid! You want …'im, you buy 'im!"

The hand on Sheik's shoulder tightened its grip, just like he felt his fists clench.

"The horse. Belongs. To me," he said slowly. "You have stolen him, and I want him back." He stepped close to the man, resisting Link's attempt at tugging him backwards. "This can end two ways," he warned. "You can either give him to and walk away from this unharmed..."

"Or?" the man said with a grin, clearly amused by what he thought was a kid trying to be tough.

"I can hurt you in ways you cannot even imagine," Sheik said quietly, filling his words with as much malevolence as he possibly could.

The man looked unnerved for a second, but then scowled. "Kid, you're a good actor. But you'd better piss off before I give you the smack you clearly need."

"Please sir, we don't mean to—"Link tried.

"I wasn't talking to you, boy," the trader interrupted, not even looking at Link.

"You leave me no choice," Sheik said, impressed that the man had been able to resist a threat like the one he had just made. Usually it reduced people to tears. His fingers found the hilt of his dagger. He'd be damned if he was going to let this worm steal his horse and then try and sell it back to him. He would _pay_!

 _ **Yes...slit his throat, gouge out his eyes!**_ Speil's voice cackled in the back of his head, clearly enjoying the thoughts running through Sheik's mind, the anger that burned in the pit of his stomach. This was the catalyst needed to truly ignite the fire that had been brewing in him since the conversation with Link about Iteos _**Make him pay for stealing from us!**_ _**Show him what it means to fuck with a Sheikah!**_

Yes...that was exactly what Sheik was going to do...

"What's going on here?!" a gruff voice demanded as a trio of city guards came towards them with their hands on their swords. "Stand back!"

The crowd that had been gathering around the seemingly inevitable fight between the big trader and the skinny boy with the mask immediately dispersed as more guards came closer. And with good reason, as it turned out that Ise herself was among them. She was wearing practical, civilian clothes rather than her usual statesman finery. She would not have been particularly noticeable among the normal people had it not been for her hair, which stood out like a sore thumb. In the right light, it could almost look like her head was on fire.

"What's this?" she asked. "Fighting, on a day of joy like this, when we are finally able to welcome our brave army into our city?" She looked at the would-be fighters, clicking her tongue. "The Earl of Hyrule, picking fights with horse traders? Whatever would drive you to do such a thing?"

"That horse belongs to us," Link said, surprising Sheik. "We were separated from our mounts when we were on the run from Rehm's forces, and that man just tried to sell him back to us!"

"Is this true?" Ise asked, fixing the trader with a penetrating gaze that said in no uncertain terms what would happen if he were discovered to be lying.

"I found it, fair and square!" the trader exclaimed. "They can't prove it's theirs!"

"Yes I can," Sheik said, his anger dissipating rapidly, leaving him to wonder how close he had been to killing the man. "You said it won't allow anyone close, didn't you?" he asked the trader, who nodded. "Well, he'll let me." With that he took a few steps towards the stall.

"It'll kill you, mark my words," the trader said in what he clearly hoped to be a nonchalant tone. "Blood's on your own hands, kid."

Sheik ignored him and stepped closer, making sure that Maladict's eyes were on him and that he recognised him. "It's me, boy," he said quietly, reaching out a hand...and pulled it back when Maladict's teeth snapped at his fingers. Ignoring the trader laughing behind him, he stepped even closer, glaring at Maladict. "What did I tell you about doing that? Stop it, or I will make good on my threat," he warned. He was not sure if Maladict truly understood what he was saying, but his ears did seem to perk up at the sound of his voice again. Closing the distance between himself and Maladict's head, Sheik reached out again and met no resistance this time as he softly stroked his muzzle. "You remember me, don't you?" he asked quietly. "Yes you do...your daughter is safe. She found me." When Maladict lowered his head further, he took the opportunity to hug the powerful neck, as if to prove to everyone that he was his rightful owner. Or the only person Maladict allowed to own him, anyway. He looked closer at Maladict's body and saw that among the scars were the same teeth marks that had marred Shun, confirming that they had both been in the troll ambush.

"Well," Ise's voice said behind them, "I'd say that's undeniable proof that the horse belongs to the Earl if it, as you say Mr. Trader, will not allow anyone close enough to touch it without taking some fingers." The warning undertone was still there, Sheik noted.

"I...that...eugh, fine, take 'im," the trader said in defeat. "No skin off my sack. One less mouth to feed, anyway."

"Judging by the look of him, you haven't actually been feeding him at all," Ise said drily. "I'd like you to leave my city, Mr. Trader."

"What?! But I—"

"You have just proven yourself to be a liar, not to mention that you mistreat your animals. I cannot have such beasts in my city, the beast being you, of course."

"Just this one!" the trader said with outrage. "My other horses are just fine!"

Sheik resisted the urge to lunge at the man after hearing that.

"Hm, I do think the rest of them look a bit scruffy and mistreated as well," Ise said slowly. "Don't you, captain?"

"Yes, Milady," one of the guards with her said. "Sorry-looking bunch."

"I believe I will...confiscate your animals, Mr. Trader, so that you cannot hurt them any longer. Captain, please escort him to the gates and ensure that he has enough money to get himself home."

"Yes, Milady," the captain said, grabbing the trader by his arm, but the man tore away from the captain.

"This is ridiculous!" he shouted. The market had fallen completely silent by now, everyone watching the spectacle. "I mistreat _one_ useless, piece of shit animal and now you're evicting me _and_ stealing my stock?! How dare you?!"

"It's not so much 'daring' as it is exercising my right as Patrician of Caldhaven," Ise said drily, motioning for the guards to continue removing the man's stall.

"Patrician?" Link asked.

"Yes, Patrician," Ise replied, smiling at him. "With the act of harbouring the rebels I have pretty much declared Caldhaven an enemy of Lumina. Given our rather unfortunate geographical position, I find it best to, at least temporarily, turn it into a city-state until the war concludes. Of course, that does give me some more...executive power than I have had before, but I am sure I will be able to use them for good. Anyway, I believe that is all the explanation Mr. Trader here needs. Please, Mr. Trader, comply with my commands or I shall be forced to imprison you."

More guards were arriving to help deal with the rather large number of horses the trader had been trying to sell, and the man could only watch helplessly as one after one was led away to the official stables.

"F...fine," the trader said, picking up his personal effects and pulling on his ridiculously stupid hat that was far too small for his head. "I will comply. But mark my words, Ise, this won't be the last you see of me. The King will hear of this!"

"The King is currently in no position to do anything about it, unfortunately," Ise replied. "But I will make a note to mention this incident to him once I see him again. I'm sure he will drop everything else in favour of it."

The trader made another angry exclamation before being led quite firmly away by the guard captain, who was accompanied by another pair of guards in case trouble was going to take place. The other traders and merchants began to applaud hesitantly, slightly unnerved by Ise's sudden show of power, but it soon escalated into a real round of applause when they finally properly saw the state Maladict was in as Sheik carefully led him out of the stall.

"The poor animal," Ise said sadly. "I hope it is not presumptuous of me, Milord, that I insist that your steed be taken care of my at my stables. I have good grooms who will see to it that it receives the best of care. I will call for the best horse doctor in the city to see if anything can be done for its leg."

Sheik contemplated turning her down, not really wanting to put himself into debt with the newly, self-appointed Patrician of Caldhaven, but as he looked at Maladict trying to follow him without putting too much weight on his bad leg, he knew immediately that it was not an option, and nodded. "That would be most generous of you, Milady," he replied.

"Follow me," she said.

He made to do so, but noticed Link looking around the market, clearly hoping to spot Epona in a similar situation. He let one of the guards take Maladict's reins after giving the steed a stern look to make sure he didn't bite off a few fingers, and headed over to Link.

"I don't think she's here, Link," he said quietly, noticing that many pairs of eyes were still upon them, probably hoping for more drama.

"Then where could she be?" the Hero asked, eyes darting around. "If she's not with Maladict, and didn't follow Shun, where could she be?"

Sheik could _see_ Link's mind trying to alert its owner of the very real possibility that something very bad had happened to her, but the Hero would not have it.

"Link, she might be—"

"No, no she's not," the Hero said, shaking his head. "She's not, you hear me?"

"Link—"

"No!" he exclaimed, pulling away from Sheik and glaring at the people watching them. "What are you looking at?!" he demanded. They began to disperse with sheepish looks of embarrassment typical from those who had been caught staring. "Sheik, you go on ahead to the estate, I'll stay here and look around some more," he said.

Sheik knew there was no point in arguing, that Link was going to search high and low for Epona in the market and no amount of force would be able to stop him. So he nodded, hoping that he would not exhaust himself too much. "Very well," he said, "just make sure you're back in time for dinner, okay? I need to see to Maladict—"

"Sure thing," Link said and disappeared in the crowds, leaving Sheik to wonder if the Hero even knew the way to Ise's estate.

 _He will find someone to ask, I'm sure,_ he told himself as he ran to catch up with Ise and her guards.

"May I ask what the Hero of Time is searching for?" Ise asked as he came up to her. "Perhaps my guards can be of assistance?"

"I do no think so, Lady Ise," Sheik said. "He is simply looking for hope...and I fear he will not find it here."

"Perhaps he will," Ise said, looking thoughtful. "What were the chances of you finding your own horse here, after all?"

Sheik nodded, realising he had no right to criticise Link for hoping to find Epona. "Even so..."

"May I ask what became of Jeryd?" she suddenly said, looking at him. "I meant to ask the general when I visited him in your camp, but I never had the opportunity. I know he was with you when you escaped from Lumina City, but that is where his trail ends for my lookouts. I did some digging on his background after that incident and found that he is actually a guild assassin...that was quite worrying..."

"I am afraid that he fell in battle at Ironhill, Milady," Sheik said, figuring it was just as well to be honest. "He gave his life so that the rest of us could escape. His last act was to rig the assassins' guild hall to blow, burning it to the ground."

"Ah..." Ise said, looking saddened at the news. "He had such potential to enter politics..."

"I doubt he would want to, honestly," Sheik said. "But he always thought highly of you, despite his...background."

"That is a relief, I suppose, but it does not alleviate the thoughts that make me wonder if he had been sent to kill me." She paused. "No offense to his memory, of course, but one will always wonder..."

"I think he was only there to gather information on the city," Sheik said. "He was more of a spy than an assassin while serving as your assistant."

"Hmph, not really a good thing, but certainly better than thinking that I was a hair away from having my throat slit at all times."

"I do not think he would have gone through with it even if he had been given the order, Milady," Sheik said, hoping to restore Jeryd's tarnished reputation with the Patrician. "He hated the assassins with every fibre of his being by the end. The only reason he took the position in the capital in the first place was so that he could get away from them. A friend of his, Lor, can attest to this fact."

"I should very much like to meet this Lor person," Ise said. "The general mentioned him during our meeting. Apparently he is a mage?"

"Correct," Sheik said warily, wondering if the Patrician was as anti-magic as many of her countrymen.

"Well, we can use all the firepower we can get, so you need not worry that I will be prejudiced against him...or the other mage, I cannot remember his name..."

"Ard."

"Yes, that one," she said. "I may feel uncomfortable around the subject and use of magic, Milord, but I will not look a gift horse in the mouth, as Mr. Trader would say or, indeed, advise his customers to. And I have no doubt that they are both upstanding chaps, if a little young, from what General Vortan told me."

"They certainly are," Sheik confirmed. "Though I would refrain from mentioning Jeryd around Lor when you meet him," he advised. "They were...close."

"I will behave myself, have no worries," Ise said, smiling.

They finally reached the wrought iron gates in front of her estate, which looked more like a palace than anything else. Ise looked slightly embarrassed at the opulence she lived in. "Grandfather insisted on building it," she explained as the gates were opened. "I myself would have preferred something a bit more modest, but the cost of tearing it down and building something new is surprisingly high, not to mention the fact that the city preservation council would have my head if I did." They entered the open space that could only be described as a small square in front of the building, and she pointed to a smaller but no less spectacular building on the right. "The stables are through there, Milord," she said. "I sent someone ahead to inform the grooms that there would be a new arrival and that a doctor was needed. I am sure you would like to spend some time with your steed and ensure that he is well taken care of." She looked apologetic. "Myself, I must prepare for the dinner later tonight. I will have it postponed another few hours so that you and the Hero of Time can get some rest. Just let the maids know who you are and they will take you to your room."

"Thank you, Milady," Sheik said, bowing. "You are most kind."

"Oh, and I was saddened to hear that your cousin and his friend will not be joining us tonight. Do give them my best. I hear the young lady has been through a most dreadful experience."

Sheik nodded, and he was finally left along with Maladict. A man emerged from the stables and made a beeline for them.

"Milord, I am the head groom," the man said, offering no name. "I would just like to assure you that your horse will receive the best of care."

"So I have been told," Sheik said with what he hoped was a noble nod. "But I would very much like to accompany you inside. We have been separated for far too long, my friend and I," he said, stroking Maladict's neck. "And I strongly suspect my presence will be needed so he does not kill anyone," he added.

The head groom chuckled, thinking it was a joke. Sheik did not correct him. It was better to live in blissful ignorance.

* * *

It had certainly not been a happy mission for the messenger who delivered the morning reports to Rehm that day. The Councillor had been eating his breakfast happily when he had received the pile of reports, the two most important of which lay at the top. The messenger had not even made it out the door before the first inarticulate scream of anger and bafflement came from the old man.

How could this have happened?

That was the question Rehm asked himself over and over as he paced back and forth in front of the table, breakfast all forgotten and cold. Days ago he had been winning. The rebels were being strung out, it only being a matter of time before they were found and destroyed by _The Chimera_ , and he could finally focus his attention on the excavation taking place at Prison's Peak.

Now he had received news that not only had the cowardly rebels taken the airship, but also the Princess of Hyrule had invaded Lumina through the southern gate, which had been taken almost a week ago! Any runners who carried news of it had been stopped along the way until now, when someone had finally slipped through the iron curtain set up by the rebels. He had lost a week to sheer incompetence.

He should have seen it coming, though, and that was why he was angry. It was his own incompetence that had caused it. Hyrule was bound to get involved in the war at some point, if not for the sake of the close friendship between the two kingdoms, then at least because of the risks involved. There was a reason for why the entrance to the Prison's Peak mines was covered in the Triforce symbol, after all.

This was not good. He was running out of time and, as it turned out, space. Surely it was only a matter of time before the rebels went on the offensive, if they weren't already. From what he could tell from the reports, the armies of General Vortan and Princess Zelda had not yet linked up as the princess was still on the march from the south. She would pass through Urne before reaching Caldhaven, which was where the rebels were currently holing up, apparently. He only had one option.

He summoned the current leader of the Royal Army, a General Pultz, or something; he didn't particularly care about such details, and informed him of the situation. There was no questions to be asked, the general was to divide his men in three armies, put someone competent in charge of one and immediately send it towards the approaching army of the princess while Pultz himself would march on Caldhaven the second. Time was of the essence, and the rebels had to be defeated immediately! Or at the very least be slowed down. The third army was to remain in Lumina City and fortify it. It would not do much in the long run, but the news of the invasion was bound to spread throughout the city and the government needed to be seen doing _something_ to appear to be in control.

He sent a message to Marlotta as well, telling her to hurry up with the excavation. Time was, now more than ever, running out.

He then tried to distract himself with reading the other reports, trying to calm himself enough so that he could think straight. His plan was in its critical final stages, and to panic now would be catastrophic. Years of planning would go straight down the drain if he failed now...and he had been waiting for far too long to let it.

By chance his eyes scanned over the word "Ironhill" on one of the reports, and he wondered what else could be going wrong in that shithole of a city. He unrolled the paper and read it more closely, head still filled with worries about the war...which were then stilled quite a bit by what he read. Slowly, a smile spread on his face. This was good news. Very good news indeed. Perhaps he was still in the game after all.

* * *

**Soul Remnants**

**Chapter 67**

* * *

The sight of _The Chimera_ , even when docked and unmanned like it was now, was impressive and awe-inspiring. The sheer size of it, coupled with the intimidating rows of guns poking out from their ports along its sides, made Rial feel very insignificant as he, Sid and Jedistern walked along the docking platform. How such a thing could keep itself in the air with nothing but a bit of gas and move at high speeds with nothing but steam running its engines was beyond him, even as Jedistern tried to dumb down the physics of it all to a level he could understand. It was all about weight and mass times velocity and other technical terms that began to run in circles around him as he tried to catch them. If anything, it only confirmed that he was not suited for cerebral work other than that of planning battle tactics. He was a born soldier, not a scientist...and given what he had seen Jedistern create, he was glad for it. Even if he tried hard for the rest of his life, his destructive capabilities could never match those of a scientist armed with theoretical physics.

"So," he asked once Jedistern had evidently given up on enlightening him on the glorious ways of aeronautics and simply told him about its design and how difficult it had been to conceive the idea in the first place. "What do we do with it?"

Jedistern blinked. "Well, given the misery it has caused this far, I say we destroy it."

"How?"

"Same way the Earl of Hyrule and his friends eliminated _The Reaper_ and _The Annihilator_ ," he replied. "Either overload or blow up its engines. I vote for the option to blow it up. In fact, since we now control the ship, we simply have to point one of the cannons at the engine and fire. The rest will sort itself out. Then we simply take it apart."

"A fair plan," Sid said, looking thoughtful. "But I offer a diff'rent option, Cap'n," he added.

"Which is?" Rial asked.

"We use it," the spy said, already holding up a hand to stop Jedistern from protesting. "Only tempor'ly, of course. Y'see, Cap'n, what we have 'ere is an unprecedented chance t' turn th' tide o' this war in record time." He patted the metal hull, the sounds echoing deep within its belly. "This thing'll give us a chance t' wreak havoc on th' enemy lines before th' armies even clash, and ye saw how quickly it routed us in th' first battle against Agon." He spat on the ground after saying Agon's name. Had to show his disrespect somehow, after all. "And after th' first time we use it 'gainst th' Royals, they'll surrender right away rather than take th' chance o' facin' us."

"Intriguing idea," Rial said, agreeing with what Sid was saying, to his surprise. He had come here with the intention of giving the order to melt the damn thing down, but now that they were in control of it...it was a good tactical choice to employ it if it meant the war would end quicker. And Sid was right about the Royals surrendering too. After all, who would be stupid enough to stand up in the face of such a mighty weapon? We did, a sheepish voice in the back of his head said, which he ignored. We had no choice, the Royals do, he reminded the voice. "There is, however, a slight problem," he continued, looking at the spy. "We've no idea how to fly it, much less use it for war."

"Well, there's th' part where ye're wrong, Cap'n," Sid said with a grin. He looked at Jedistern, who seemed to be contemplating the idea of jumping off the platform. It was apparently a more desirable option than continuing the conversation. "Th' engineer can explain, methinks."

Rial turned to Jedistern, raising an eyebrow. "Well?" he asked.

The engineer looked ready to bolt. He frowned, but then he took a deep breath and said, "The risk of the airship lifting off before Sid and his men could seize it was always there, even though he insisted that it would not be a problem."

"Which it wasn't," Sid said with obvious pride.

"But it _could have_ been," Jedistern said, glaring at the spy. "So we developed a backup plan in case something went wrong and they would have to actually complete the refuelling operation before they were able to launch an attack. He would hide several men on supply crates which would then be loaded into the ship's cargo hold, where they would wait for an opportune moment, emerge from their hiding place and take the ship by force. After that they would fly it to a pre-appointed place for extraction and the eventual scuttling of the craft."

"Is that so?" Rial asked, looking at Sid. "And how would they know how to fly it?"

"Because I taught them to, general," Jedistern admitted. "I picked the most intelligent-seeming of the men you gathered, General, and gave them a crash-course in how to operate the craft to a reasonable degree. It would not be flown with much finesse, of course, but they would certainly be able to fly it to safety."

"Ah, ye're being modest now, Tadian," Sid said, clapping the man heavily on the shoulder. "Ye said to me tha' they could take on th' whole kingdom o' Lumina by themselves!"

"I said no such thing!" Jedistern exclaimed. "Merely that, if they wanted to, they could wage war and very probably emerge victorious!"

"So the crew knows how to fly the ship and operate its weapons?" Rial asked. At Jedistern's nod, a strange feeling filled his chest. So there it was. His biggest chance to end the war as soon as possible and see Victor restored to his rightful place on the throne. The Royal Army was in their way, and there was no way to avoid having to meet them on the field of battle. Casualties would be in the thousands by the time the rebels reached the gates of Lumina City...and even they would have to besiege the city, and the gods knew how long it would take to defeat them that way. And he had just been handed their biggest hope of going through the process in record time, not to mention to keep the death toll to a minimum. All he would have to do was to give the order...

"General, I know it is not my place, but I urge you: do not use the ship. Destroy it and rid us of its evil forever," Jedistern pleaded.

"Imagine it, Cap'n," Sid said, determined to add his piece. "War ended in weeks instead o' months. Death toll in th' hundreds instead o' thousands. Th' King in safety...withou' th' risk o' Rehm tryin' to negotiate with 'im as a hostage."

"You propose to use it on your countrymen," Jedistern said, glaring at Sid. "How does that not leave a bitter taste in your mouth, sir?"

"It does," Sid said with a shrug. "But in my line o' work, one tends to think on th' behalf o' th' greater good and not get hung up on morals. Terrible, I know, but it's ruthlessness that wins th' war, not compassion. Cap'n," he said and looked at Rial, "it's up to ye what to do with th' ship, but remember th' benefits...not to mention th' satisfaction of givin' Rehm a taste of his own medicine."

It was hard to decide. Rial was not sure if he would able to take the idea of knowing what he would be unleashing upon the troops of the Royal Army, having experienced them himself...but how could not using the ship to hasten the approaching end of the war be justified, especially if it could save lives?

In the end, though, it all came down to one decision, no matter how much he could argue with himself: How soon did he want to see Victor again?

Sooner than he would without the airship.

"We will use it," Rial said, looking at Jedistern. "Mr. Tadian, I know you are very much against the idea, and I will not hold it against you if you decide to leave as a result of this decision, but...I would like you to train more of my men to operate the ship. I have a feeling we will need as many competent airmen as we can get."

Jedistern looked furious, but nodded. "Very well, general, I will train them. But I would like to have it on record that I thought you were a better man than this, that you would have some decency."

"I do," Rial said. "Because I intend to destroy the vessel as soon as I have Rehm's unconditional surrender on my desk."

Jedistern stepped closer, leaning in so that he could whisper into Rial's ear. The sound of it felt ear piercing. "You had better make good on that, general...or I swear that I will take care of it myself."

"Is that a threat?"

"A warning."

"I swear on my life that _The Chimera_ will be reduced to scrap once we have won," Rial said.

The engineer looked doubtful, but nodded anyway. "I will hold you to that, general," he said. "Now, if you will excuse me, I will need to enter the ship and ensure that it is in working condition."

"It is," Sid said. "Saw it comin' in myself."

"Even so, regular maintenance is necessary to keep it running, and who better to perform that than myself, its inventor?" Jedistern replied, already halfway up the gangplank. They watched him disappear over the side of the ship, listening as the heavy iron door to its interior was opened and close. Sid then turned to Rial and opened his mouth. Rial already knew what he was going to say.

"Do it," he told the spy, who grinned at the fact that his telegraphed move was registered. "Make sure he doesn't sabotage anything."

"And if he tries?" Sid asked.

Rial hesitated. There was no way to say it and sound delicate, not to mention not to make oneself out to be a cold-hearted arsehole. So he changed it, saying instead, "Detain him. Gently. This is our trump card, and I've no intention of letting idealism, appropriate as it is, get in our way."

"As ye say, Cap'n," Sid said, nodding for two of his men to enter the craft as well, following the engineer. They descended the platform and strolled around the refuelling station for some time, organising the defences. "Gonna have t' move out soon," Sid said. "Rehm's probably already sent troops t' take it back."

"Yes," Rial said with a nod. "As soon as Tadian has performed the maintenance, you give the order to lift off. Take the ship to Caldhaven. I'm sure I can convince Ise to allow you to dock there."

"No platform, though," Sid pointed out.

"Tadian will build one, I'm sure," Rial said as they reached the gate to the station, where his entourage was waiting. "Anyway, I should get going," he said and swung himself into the saddle of his horse. "I'm due to meet the princess of Hyrule in Caldhaven in a few days, provided her passage there is uninterrupted." He shook his head, still not quite believing how well things were going at the moment, even if the idea of using the airship left a bad taste in his mouth. "And don't you dare take that thing out for a joyride, you hear me?" he told the spy. "I can't be having with you scaring the crap out of the civilian population."

"I'll try, Cap'n, though th' temptation'll always be there."

"I'll know who to blame if it happens."

* * *

"How are you feeling?" Kafei asked as Elenwe's eye fluttered open after her nap and slowly focused on him. It was not until she seemed to recognise him that a smile came to her face, but it seemingly lit up the entire room. Or maybe it was just how it felt, given that his chest began fluttering whenever she did.

"Terrible," she replied. "But better now that you're here."

How could he not love such a reply?

They were staying in the poshest room they had been living in for their entire trek in Lumina, with the exception of Elenwe's very brief nature as Countess Marlotta's extremely shy maid in Urne. Lady Ise had been very generous in giving them one of her guest bedrooms so that, in her words, "The brave heroes of the rebellion could rest and heal in comfort." They had around-the-clock access to the kitchens and servants who would cater to their every whim, and skilled doctors checked in Elenwe at regular intervals to change her bandages and such. Agneta also came in every now and then, insisting that everyone else would get it wrong.

He had to admit that, despite the fact that they had been living as nomads for quite a few years now, this was...comfortable. He had expected to be unable to relax properly in a place like this again, since this room reminded him quite a bit of the rooms in his family's mansion in Termina... He stopped himself from letting his thoughts stray along that trail any further. He was determined to let that chapter of his life stay buried. Out of respect.

The point was that he was surprisingly well adjusted and comfortable with even sleeping in the room, despite having only stayed there for a few days. The more he thought about it, though, he had a strong suspicion that it was because of the Gerudo currently smiling at him. How could he have been so stupid, letting things get to this point before actually acknowledging that he had been feeling exactly the same for her? He'd been so determined not to let Anju go that he refused to see Elenwe for what she really was... The worst part was that it had taken a conversation with Sheik to finally let go. Not that he wasn't thankful to Sheik, not at all, but it was really a realisation he should have come to on his own, without outside help.

"What're you thinkin' about?" Elenwe asked, adjusting her position in the bed. This was done with a considerable amount of difficulty. She was still in great pain from her injuries, and that, coupled with the fact that she still had not gotten used to her left arm no longer being there, meant that a tremendous effort of will was required to finish. He did not move to help her. She had threatened to cut his throat in his sleep the last time he'd tried, and he dared not test how genuine that threat was.

He smiled once she had gotten comfortable again, an impressive feat given her general condition. "Just wondering how I could have been so stupid," he replied.

"Stupid about what?" she asked.

"Not realising how stupid I was not to reciprocate," he said, sitting down in the chair next to the bed and holding her right hand, careful not to upset the bandaged fingers, the tips of which were missing. That had been particularly sadistic, he thought. The torturer had known what he was doing. "I'm sorry for taking so long."

"Don't be," she said, shaking her head slightly. "You were still grieving her—"

"I wasn't, though," he protested. "Not really. I was just so desperate not to let my memory of her disappear, like it would keep her alive, somehow...it was stupid."

"Well, you did let go eventually," she said.

"Yeah," he said, smiling. "And now I can be happy again."

"Happy with a cripple," she said, unable to keep the undertone of bitterness from her voice.

"Elenwe—"

"I'm sorry," she said, interrupting him. "It's just...I don't know why you didn't just up and leave once you saw the state of me. I mean...on eye gone along with an arm and four fingertips...I can't fight like this, and I certainly can't shoot. I'm worthless—"

"You're not," he interrupted her. He had lost count of how many times they had had this conversation, and he knew that it would not be the last. He didn't care. He would have it as many times as it'd take until she accepted the truth. "Your value isn't measured in well you can fight, especially not when injured like this. Besides, I've known you for years now, and if there is one thing of which I am certain, it's that you won't let something like this turn you into a defeatist. And besides," he leaned in and kissed her, "maybe I'll actually be able to keep up with you now." He said the last part with a grin and a wink. She was unable to keep herself from grinning back.

"Maybe if I lose another arm, yeah, sure," she quipped.

"You'll need that one, though," he said. "Or your hand, at any rate."

"Cheeky bastard."

"You love it."

"Not as much as you love yourself."

"Low blow."

"I'll show you a low blow as soon as I can get out of this bed."

They both began to snicker before laughing in earnest. It felt good to be able to just joke around like this again, like they had before the ugly business of the war seemed to creep into every aspect of their lives. It gave Kafei hope that things could return to somewhat normal after the war...if they even bothered to stick around until it ended. He doubted it would last for much longer, though. With the airship in their possession there was no way in hell Rehm would dare to prolong the war, not with the state his army was in. And when the princess arrived...

That made his stomach lurch. The idea of Zelda butting into this business made him really uncomfortable. They had never been fond of each other in the first place, and he highly doubted that her opinion of him had gotten any better with the years, especially not after he had almost accidentally killed Sheik. Not that _his_ opinion of _her_ had gotten any better either, but that was beside the point. He could only hope that their personal differences would not ruin anything for the rebels. Her support was critical on the ground, after all.

The worst part of it all was that he could not really remember why he disliked her so much. His memories of those times were fuzzy, and specifics tended to blend into each other. The only thing he did know was that it involved Impa in some way. Most likely one of her insane rules had been a root cause, and he had not taken to it very well...or maybe _she_ hadn't. Who knew?

"What're you thinking about _now_?" Elenwe asked with exasperation. "You're very focused this afternoon, are you?"

"Sorry," he said, looking sheepish. "Lot on my mind."

"Worried about Princess Zelda, huh?" she asked. "I don't think you need to fret—Sheik forgave you, I don't see why _she_ wouldn't."

"Sheik has only temporarily forgiven me," he reminded her. "He won't do it fully until he's spoken to Impa and confirmed the story I told him."

"And will she?" she asked, staring at him. "You did tell him the truth, didn't you?"

"Most of it," he said. "There were...other details that were not relevant."

"Such as?"

"How my parents died, for example," he said with a shrug. "My _real_ parents."

"Could've played the sympathy card, y'know?"

"I don't want his forgiveness that way. I want it to based on the truth, nothing more and nothing less."

"Eugh, you claim to have separated yourself from your Sheikah background, but you're still obnoxiously dedicated to _truth_ ," she with a roll of her eye. He could not see her other one underneath the bandages, but he assumed that too followed its brother. "You should be more like me, fond of it but not necessarily married to it."

"Somehow I can't see you being married to anything but yourself," he said and grinned.

"Nah, that's you, remember?"

"Maybe we can have a joint ceremony?"

"And then cheat on ourselves with each other?"

"Sounds like a plan."

There was another burst of laughter, but this one died out sooner than they would have liked. Elenwe looked at him, smiling.

"Don't worry," she repeated. "I'm sure Sheik will help you should she react badly to your presence, and if not...well, I'll simply have to bust you out, just like I did in—"

"Yes, I don't need a reminder of that particular situation. It's bad enough to have had to live through it once."

"You looked plenty comfortable," she said with a shrug. "I mean, there are worse places to be stuck like that in than a bathhouse."

"It was a bathhouse for _men_ ," he hissed.

"And? Your dear cousin seems to have no problem appreciating the male form."

"Yes, well, it turns out that my cousin and I are very different in that area."

"Shame, would've loved to see you handle the Hero together—"

"Keep it in your pants, please."

"Not wearing any," she said, wriggling her eyebrows.

This time the laughter lasted for a long time, and the conversation that followed was much lighter, not really focusing on the big issues. The hours passed by, and it was only by chance that Kafei happened to look at the clock on the mantelpiece, his face blanching.

"What?" Elenwe said.

"Eugh, I was invited to dinner by Ise this evening," he said. "Sheik and Link will be there, along with Riveth and a few of her officers. Iteos too, maybe, and some of the _rich_ and _influential_ citizens of Caldhaven, which has become a city-state this afternoon, by the way."

"I like Ise," Elenwe said. "She's not afraid of not playing by the rules. And who says Lumina isn't ready to have an independent nation or two inside of it? As for the dinner...are you going?"

"I don't really want to," he admitted. "I hate having to deal with this kind of thing, but it wouldn't feel right to turn the invitation down, either. I mean, she's the entire reason we're in this room, after all," he said, motioning around them. "We've got a marble fireplace, for Goddesses' sake."

"You're probably right," she said. "Guess you'll just have to clench your teeth and bear through it."

"Can't you come with me?" he pleaded.

"Do I look like I'm in any state to attend a fancy dinner?" she asked. "Besides, I've nothing to wear. Quite literally, my clothes are in the wash."

He hung his head in misery. "I suppose I will have to wash up, then...dinner's in an hour or so."

"You do that," she said, patting his thigh carefully. "Do feel free to bring me a piece of cake, though."

"You don't deserve cake. Besides, there might not be any."

"What, it's a lie?"

He paused, looking at her. "What the hell are you talking about?"

She shrugged innocently. "Dunno. Felt right to say it."

"I am getting second, third and fourth thoughts about our relationship the more you talk," he said as he retreated into the washroom.

"Too late, you're stuck with me now," she warned.

"Actually, I can run away," he replied. "Good luck catching me with that leg!"

"Very funny," she said sourly. "Oh, and when you're letting Iteos plunder your secret cave tonight, do try not to think about me. It is such poor form to think about someone else during the act!"

"Oh, I'm sure he's _much_ better in bed than you!"

"That's it, you're not getting any tonight!"

"I wasn't getting any in the first place!"

"Asshole!"

"Bitch!"

And just like that, it felt like everything was back to normal.

* * *

**Soul Remnants**

**Chapter 68**

* * *

"Well? Will he be all right?" Link asked as he buttoned up the shirt he had been kindly lent by someone—presumably Ise. The clothes had been lying on their bed when they had entered the room, the ex-councillor having taken their relationship into account when it came to sleeping arrangements. They were unsure if they were comfortable with it.

Sheik was doing his best to make his hair look presentable in front of the mirror. Months of living in the woods had taken its toll on his personal grooming habits, and he wondered what Zelda would have to say about his currently very dishevelled appearance. There were more black hairs than he cared to find, but at least he was able to comb it and braid it into something that would be appropriate when dining with nobility. He had a feeling that the Patrician would not particularly care about the way he looked at dinner, but he was in a sense a representative of Hyrule at the moment, and he refused to embarrass Zelda by looking like a bum. He looked at Link, shaking his head after registering the question.

"The doctor was not sure," he said. "The scars and such from the troll attack will heal and fade with time, but the limp...it stems from a fracture Maladict suffered very recently, most likely while in the possession of the horse trader." He gritted his teeth at the thought of the man mistreating Maladict. He got better than he deserved from Ise, he thought.

"Should've fractured _his_ leg," Link muttered, concentrating on the buttons.

Sheik found himself agreeing to the statement, but did not voice it. He studied Link closely after finishing with his hair, watching as the frustration on the Hero's face grew more severe as he realised he had buttoned the wrong holes. He was disappointed and angry at not finding Epona at the market. He wasn't going to admit it, but it was clear from the way he was failing at the simplest of tasks at the moment. After not getting it right for the fifth time, Sheik sighed and marched over to the Hero, slapping his hands away and doing it for him.

"You need to calm down," he told Link quietly. "I know you miss Epona, but getting angry about it is no good. She is out there, Link, I'm sure of it. She's probably looking for us right now."

"Then why hasn't she found us?" Link asked, his voice low. "Why?"

"Perhaps she cannot hear her song?" Sheik suggested, finishing his work and inspecting Link closely. "None of the other ocarina songs work either, right?"

"No," Link admitted. "Not even the temple teleporting songs."

Sheik blinked. "You tried to teleport? You didn't tell me."

"What does that matter?" Link asked. "They didn't work. If they had, I _would_ have told you, and then we could've gotten out of here."

"I certainly wish they did," Sheik said. "But...given everything that has happened so far...I doubt I would have been able to leave until I saw the end of this war."

"You want to stay?" Link asked. Now it was his turn to blink. "I thought you didn't like it here."

"I don't," Sheik said with a shrug. "But I cannot help but feel slightly responsible for this, with Kafei having kick-started the whole war, even if it were unwittingly..." He laughed bitterly, scoffing at the idea of it all. "I guess I just feel like I have to clean up after him, you know?"

"What will Zelda say?"

Sheik shrugged again. "Knowing her, she will insist on helping the rebels, having been in a similar position herself. Lumina and Hyrule are allies, after all." He looked at Link again. "You thought she was coming here just to fetch us?"

"Maybe," Link admitted.

"Well, maybe she is, but that is not the horse I would bet on," Sheik said, realising too late that it was entirely the wrong metaphor to use, cursing himself a thousand times when he saw Link's face fall. "But what she is going to do is not something we will know until she gets here," he said hurriedly, trying to focus the Hero's attention on the princess' imminent arrival. "And knowing her, we will get chewed out. A lot."

"S'not our fault we're in this mess," Link said, his longing for Epona still apparent on his face, but at least he was still keeping up with the conversation.

"We could have left when we had the chance," Sheik reminded him, referring to their short-lived escape towards the border with Ard, Kafei and Elenwe in tow.

Link nodded. "But it wouldn't have been right," he said. "We were in too deep by then."

"Yes, but there was still the chance of us escaping," Sheik said. "And she _will_ remind us of that again and again while she locks us in the dungeons for our own protection." He said the last part with a grin, relishing in a bit of joking hyperbole. "But not before she single-handedly wins this war for Rial and the others, of course."

"She's definitely stubborn enough for it," Link agreed, taking a quick look in the mirror and not bothering with grooming his hair. "This good?" he asked.

Sheik wanted to say no, but knew it was a battle long lost before it even began, and nodded.

"All right," the Hero said, "time to eat."

He did not sound enthusiastic, and Sheik knew why. He grabbed Link's outstretched hand before it reached the doorknob, making the Hero look him in the face

"Ignore him," he told Link. "Giving him attention will only make things worse."

Link scoffed. "Easy to say—"

"—but hard to do, I know," Sheik said. "But don't worry...he won't a big problem for long."

"Only until dinner's over," Link said, nodding. "Let's go." He steeled his face and opened the door, striding down the corridor towards the dining room. Sheik caught up with him and gave the Hero a smile, which was returned.

 _If only you knew how little time Sir Iteos has left, Link,_ he thought.

The dinner was an unpleasant affair. The rebel officers and city officials dined and conversed with each other quite easily, but Ise had made a gigantic blunder when assigning seats, as it had placed Iteos on one side of the table with Link and Sheik facing him on the other side, and the knight saw fit to give them both a disgusting grin whenever he happened to catch their eyes. And given the fact that Ise, quite unaware of the tension existing between them, insisted on engaging _everyone_ in whatever topic she was interested in, it inevitably happened every time someone wanted to add something to the conversation.

Kafei had disappeared soon after the first course, excusing himself by saying he did not want to leave Elenwe alone for too long. Riveth had also left the table soon after the dinner had started, a series of coughs putting her out of commission.

"So, I understand that you are a mercenary, Sir Iteos?" Ise said, changing the topic for the umpteenth time that night. "Tell me, do the rumours surrounding you hold any truth?"

"That depends on which rumours you are talking about, Milady," Iteos said, his eyes sliding over to her. "Though I highly suspect you are referring to my...sensual conquests?"

"Indeed," Ise said, leaning forward with her elbows on the table, grinning shamelessly. "I'm rather curious, you see."

"Well," the knight said as he leaned back in his chair, quite comfortable with having all eyes in the room on him—well, all eyes except for those of the two people right across from him, "the tasteful ones: all true. The dirty ones: all true as well." He grinned. "Rich or poor, noble or commoner, I'm not picky, though I have to say that highborn are...more interesting."

Sheik was glad to see that almost everyone around the table had disgusted expressions on their faces. Only Iteos and the two members of his retinue were smiling, while Ise had a perfectly neutral mask on, her eyes studying the knight closely. The man was such a...a _sleaze_!

"So, what kind of nobles have you had then, Sir Iteos?" Ise asked.

"Everything from the lowliest of thanes to the highest of kings," Iteos said, relishing in the attention, ignoring the disapproving looks he was getting from everyone. "They can be as haughty as they like; after a night with me they certainly change their tune." He looked at Sheik and Link. "Special mention goes to certain others, though...I quite like teaching those who are...inexperienced."

Sheik directed the most intense glare he could muster at the knight, who merely smiled innocently back at him.

"Perhaps, but they might not like being taught by you," the Sheikah said, regretting it immediately. He'd sworn not to say a word to the son of a bitch all night! _Oh well,_ he thought. _In for a rupee, in for a sovereign._ "After all, your methods are not what one would call...fair."

"And what methods would that be, Milord?" Iteos asked, letting his eyes slide over to Link in an exaggerated way.

"Coerced bets, for example," Sheik said. "Made on false premises."

"I take exception to being called a cheat, Lord Sheikah," Iteos said. "The only bets I make are fair. It is not my fault that some people...misjudge their chances of winning."

"There is a clear difference between misjudging one's chances and being played for a fool, and frankly—"

Sheik was interrupted by a hand on his knee that suddenly squeezed tightly. He didn't need to turn his head to feel the intensity of Link's gaze, which only said one thing: Stop.

"Right, I believe that is enough discussion of that particular topic," Ise said, finally realising what was happening. "Lieutenant, I believe you have some interesting stories of the war in which General Riveth was falsely implicated..."

As the lieutenant, a grizzled old veteran, began to speak, Link let go of Sheik's knee and stood up, uttering a hurried apology to Ise before leaving the dining room. Sheik waited until a pause in the lieutenant's story before he excused himself as well. As he left the room, he caught Iteos giving him another disgusting grin that had the Sheikah wishing they were alone so he could gouge out those twinkling eyes—an action he would take great pleasure in.

It was no big surprise that he would find Link in the stable, petting Maladict. The horse doctor was several rows down, attending to one of the other horses. Otherwise they were completely alone.

"Hey," Sheik said quietly as he walked up to Link, reaching out to pet Maladict as well. It pained Sheik to see the teeth marks and other scars that marred the beautiful animal. Maladict turned his head to look at his owner, snorted and bumped his muzzle against Sheik's cheek, a surprisingly tender action from the usually intimidating beast. "Missed you too," he told Maladict.

"He's...calmer than he used to be," Link said.

"He's always been calm," Sheik replied. "He's just a bit...subdued. I guess not even he is immune to such traumatic events." He looked at the Hero. "I'm sorry about what happened in there," he said. "I lost my temper—"

"It's okay," Link said, shaking his head. "I just wish you hadn't made it clear to everyone around the table what my bet with Iteos was about." He sighed. "Everyone in the camp knew that I lost a bet with him, but not what the stakes were...soldiers are the worst gossipers in the world, and now everyone will know."

 _...I didn't think about that,_ Sheik thought. _But then, I wasn't doing much thinking at the time at all, was I?_

"Link, I—"

"I said it's okay," the Hero interrupted. "The damage is done..."

"Not necessarily," Sheik said, already making plans for ensuring that not a single person around the table that night would repeat anything they had heard about the bet.

Link had already guessed what Sheik was implying and gave him a disapproving look. "No violence," he said firmly.

"Would not dream of it," Sheik said, turning on his heels.

_Except in a certain someone's case..._

He knew that it would not be a good time to exact any sort of vengeance on Iteos right now—Link would find out and Sheik had no interest in the kind of situation that would arise from that. He would simply have to find a perfect occasion for the mercenary to die...and hopefully find a way to do it and not have it look suspicious.

* * *

A few days after Rial had left for Caldhaven, Sid was sitting in the captain's chair on the bridge of _The Chimera_. He was leaning forward, his hand on his chin and pulling on his beard. Beads of sweat slowly made their way down the side of his face and shaved head, betraying his nervousness to the bridge crew. Not that they were any better off than him, of course, but it was slightly disconcerting to see the commanding officer being just as apprehensive about this as them. His foot tapped repeatedly on the wooden floor, a habit he thought he had long since killed. It was unseemly for a spymaster like him to be seen like this, but it was not every day he was in charge of something like this. He glanced at the array of dials and other instruments on the panel in front of his chair, very few of which he knew what actually did. But the ones he did know showed normal readings, which was a good thing, he supposed.

Then a tinny voice sounded from one of the brass tubes jutting from the floor next to his chair, which said, _"Preparations are complete."_ The Royal Engineer sounded nothing like himself, Sid decided.

"We're ready?" Sid asked, almost forgetting to speak directly into the tube, which carried his voice all the way down to the engineering deck. Specifically, it carried it to the engine room, where Jedistern Tadian was hounding the crew around.

 _"Yes,"_ Jedistern replied. _"Instruments show nothing but good numbers as far as I can see. Everything is well within normal limits. We're ready whenever you are."_

The crew all looked at Sid, who took an agonisingly long time to reply. He adjusted his position in the chair, tapped his fingers on his cane for a little while before closing his eyes, taking a deep breath and speaking into the tube, "Fire it up."

 _"Understood,"_ Jedistern said.

It began as a quiet hum and a minor vibration that ran through the entire ship. Then the sound grew louder, and the vibration intensified. The bridge crew began to study their stations, calling out what their instruments were telling them. Everything seemed okay so far was the general consensus. Sid licked his lips and said, "Propulsion?"

"Stable," replied one of the bridge crewmembers.

"All right, then," the ex-spy said. "Let's see if this'll work. Take us up."

The lift-off was slow and probably very clumsy-looking as _The Chimera_ lifted a few feet from the docking cradle, hovering just above the platform, its engines working hard to keep the giant hunk of wood and metal from crashing to the ground in a spectacular display of man's arrogance and its consequences. Or something like that, Sid thought. He had never been one for poetic expression.

He wasn't prepared for the sheer power of the vibrations, however, and he suddenly understood why all pieces of furniture and similar objects were bolted to the floor as the bridge began to shake as if struck by an earthquake. It took the rest of the bridge crew by surprise as well, and several of them lost their balance and fell to the floor in undignified heaps. Sid held on to his chair for dear life, yelling into the tube, "Is it supposed t' shake like _this_?!"

 _"As long as we're climbing, yes,"_ Jedistern's voice replied, his words nearly garbled. _"Don't worry, they will abate."_

"They'd better!"

Their ascent seemed like it would never end, and Sid had a feeling that his arse would be like minced meat by the time they finished. If this was air travel, then the engineer could bloody keep it! Who wanted a type of transport that would mutilate its passengers like this? His thoughts continued along this line until he looked out the window, and gasped. They were already rising through the clouds, but stray beams of sunlight, having broken through the dense layers somehow, shone into the bridge and in his face. It stung his eyes, but he kept looking, surprised at how beautiful it looked.

And then _The Chimera_ broke through the clouds completely, and the crew was treated to the sight of the heavens. At the same time, they reached the apparent altitude Jedistern had been aiming for, and the engines shut down, causing the vibrations and sounds of machinery to die down completely, leaving them with nothing but silence and the majesty of the view outside.

Blue skies, the likes of which he had never seen before. Pure white, fluffy clouds floating lazily about, far above the grey lid that covered Lumina. The peaks of the mountains surrounding the kingdom, tall and high, broke through the lid as well, looking like small islands in the vast, heavenly ocean.

Sid found himself smiling brilliantly at the sight of it all, and saw that the rest of the crew were having similar reactions. Out on the deck work had ceased as the men and women gathered along the sides, gawking at the majesty around them. They gasped, and pointed and chattered excitedly amongst themselves. Jedistern's training had never prepared them for something like this.

Okay, maybe air travel wasn't so bad after all, Sid concluded, tearing his gaze away from the sky and speaking into the tube, "Any problems?"

 _"No,"_ Jedistern replied. _"Everything seems normal so far. Readouts are good, pressure is good, boiler is holding. There's a minor fault in the hydraulic systems to the engineering bay doors, but that's about it and nothing to worry about."_

"So th' ship's good 't go?"

_"Absolutely, though I would suggest taking the crew through some drills before we leave for Caldhaven. It will give me some time to make the final adjustments to the landing struts as well."_

"All right," Sid said. "We'll do some firin' exercises."

 _"Do try not to kill anyone,"_ Jedistern said. _"At least not without making sure they're not on our side."_

 _"_ Wouldn't dream of it." He turned to the first mate. "Take us down, beneath the clouds. Let's find us a target."

"Sir!"

As the engines whirred back to life and the vibrations started again, though not as bad as when they had climbed, Sid gave the beautiful sight one last look. I could leave, he thought. I could take this ship and leave the war behind and never come back. No one would blame me. No one _could_ blame me. And if they tried to come for me...I would blow them to smithereens. He shook his head. No, that was not him. Many things could be said about the former spy, but his loyalty could not be questioned. He settled back in his chair and poured himself a drink of heavily diluted wine from the steel decanter on his panel. No, his loyalty could _not_ be questioned.

A few minutes later, _The Chimera_ was once again diving through the grey clouds to the land below, searching for a proper target to test its guns on. Sid eventually settled on firing at the side of a hill on which nothing living could be spotted. This was a sparsely populated part of Lumina anyway, and the fewer people saw this the better. News spreading of the rebels having gotten their hands on the single most powerful war machine in the kingdom would only spread panic among the civilians, and panic meant that a lot more lives would be lost unnecessarily. Enough innocent blood had been spilled already by the airship, and he refused to contribute to the pool.

It was windier than he expected out on deck. A gust nearly took him off his feet and over the side, but a last-minute grab at a random cable he probably should have known the name of saved him from taking the fast trip down to the ground. He decided to stay there for a minute, watching as the crew made preparations for firing the ship's many cannons. He enjoyed the sight. Jedistern had trained these men well. Some of them had served on ships before (albeit the sea-faring kind) and had been sharing the knowledge that applied to both airships and regular ships with the rest. Everyone knew what to do, even though the routines were still a few steps away from being perfect.

Several loud slams, audible even over the howling of the wind, emanated from the deck below, the sound carried by one of the vents close to Sid's position. The gun crew on the decks below were working hard to load their weapons.

The first mate hurried up to Sid and wordlessly handed him his official captain's binoculars. Sid immediately put them to his eyes and looked at the mountain they had chosen for their victim that day. Apart from the wind sweeping the snow across the crags, there was no movement anywhere, not even animals. That was good. A victimless test.

"They're ready to fire, sir!" the first mate announced.

Sid took one last look at the unmarred mountainside, took a deep breath and shouted, "Fire!"

The order was repeated along the chain of command until it reached the gun crews. The ship shook like a tree caught in a tempest, and the world went silent, a sharp ringing sound replacing everything else. But Sid didn't care about that; he was more concerned with the fact that the entire mountainside had been wiped out. Black smoke rose from well over twenty craters (he had forgotten how many guns on each side the ship had), the surrounding snow melted from the sheer heat of the projectiles. Much of the mountain itself had been torn apart by the explosions, and more pieces broke off and disappeared into the newly formed ravine.

It became all too clear how Riveth's army had been practically annihilated that night during the first battle with Agon's forces. The power of _The Chimera's_ weapons was absolutely terrifying.

Once the ringing had died down and he was back in his seat on the bridge, massaging his aching knee, he gave the order to set course for Caldhaven. With any luck, they would not even need a docking cradle.

"We're gonna win this," he said to himself. With such power on their side, how could Rehm even _hope_ to stand against them?

In the weeks that followed, he would revisit that thought and kick it in the arse.

* * *

**Soul Remnants**

**Chapter 69**

* * *

Zelda swept her gaze across the battlefield. It was strewn with the dead. Warm smoke floated from the rapidly cooling bodies in the snow, their faces frozen in expressions of pain and surprise. Contrary to the snowy weather that had followed them ever since they had made their incursion into Lumina, it was now raining. Combined with the cold, it could be deadly. It was a surreal experience. The men of General Mirn's army had gone in front of those from Hyrule, and had therefore been the first to enter the fray. The enemy army was small enough for them to be totally defeated by the time the Hyrulian soldiers reached the field. The dead were all wearing Luminan uniforms and colours, making it virtually impossible to distinguish who was on whose side. Only the individual company tags made it possible to identify friend or foe. Not that it would matter. These would all be food for carrion-eaters and scavengers.

The stench of blood permeated the air, which tasted metallic in her mouth. It was probably even worse down on the field itself, where a line of soldiers were making their way through to the other side, where the walls of the city of Urne could be seen in the distance. That was their next target. According to Sheik's letter, that had been where this Countess Marlotta had been keeping Link for some time after they had been separated. Zelda wanted very much a word or two with the woman.

"Your Majesty," Tira said, riding up alongside her. Her helmet was off, revealing soldier's face. Zelda liked it more and more for every time she saw it. There was something comforting about the soldier. She seemed to project an aura of such...security in her own abilities and power that merely being in her presence would make anyone feel safe. "Are you all right? Are you in pain?"

Zelda's leg gave a twinge at the mention of the word, and she grimaced while shaking her head. "Not at all," she said, though her bodyguard's facial expression told her that the lie was as dead as it could get.

"I will fetch the medicine," Tira said, turning her horse around.

"I don't want it," Zelda said, feeling like a petulant child. "It tastes absolutely horrid!"

"You _will_ take it," Tira said, "It will promote healing and ease the pain!" She set off towards the doctor's cart, which was being prepared to follow the back of column of soldiers, taking the wounded survivors with them.

"Who gave you the permission to order me around like that?!" Zelda called after her, grinning a little.

"You, when you appointed me as your bodyguard!" the soldier called back.

"Oh, what I have gotten myself into?" Zelda asked the empty air in front of her as her wounded thigh gave another twinge of pain. "Something ridiculously stupid," she answered a few seconds later, lifting the hem of her coat and noting with distaste that the bandages were red with blood again. It was one thing to be permanently scarred and crippled, but when the damn wound even refused to close properly? That was just annoying. At least Tira knew enough about medicine and such to be able to help her redress the wound. It wasn't that she didn't trust the doctors and surgeons she had brought with her, she just didn't like doctors that much, which was a paradox since she had been training to be one, but she chose not to dwell on that as she felt like enough of a walking contradiction already.

A loud boom sounded from the distance. The army had reached the gates of Urne already, then. She made a scoffing sound. She had specifically ordered the officers not to attack until she reached the line, but the sight of the traitor's city had apparently been too much for them.

"Remind me to reprimand the officers of the Luminan Loyalists severely for going against my orders, Tira," she said as her bodyguard once again pulled up alongside her. "They're going to get us all killed at this rate."

"Noted, Princess," Tira said, holding out a small, brown bottle without label. "Your medicine."

Zelda grimaced, but took the bottle anyway, knowing that it would be in her best interest to take it. It did not make the foul liquid go down any easier, but at least she did it on her own volition rather than having Kaura forcing it down her throat. For a moment, she wondered how her old mentor was doing in Termina and made a mental note to send a message to her clinic. Knowing her, Kaura would not even answer the question, but simply reply that she should mind her own business and get back to being a monarch. That final thought nearly made her spill the medicine as she snorted with laughter, but she managed to get it all down. Tira took the empty bottle from her and put it in her saddlebag.

"May I ask what is so funny?" Tira asked, looking ready to bolt at a second's notice in case she had offended the princess. Now there was a strange girl. She was so concerned with keeping to her station while simultaneously fighting her own natural curiosity. She was like Sheik, in that regard, Zelda noted. Although Sheik had had far better self-control, most likely because Impa had always been there to keep him line.

"Oh, nothing," Zelda replied, feeling her mood darkening slightly at the thought of Impa. "Just something I imagine a friend of mine would say."

"I see."

"Anyway, I think it is time we joined the army, what do you say?"

"As you wish, Princess."

As they rode down the hill to join the column of soldiers moving towards the next battlefield, Zelda doing her best to ignore the bodies in the snow, the princess felt her mood darkening more and more. From what she could discern from Sheik's letters and Impa's behaviour during the conversation with the Sages, she had a sneaking suspicion that there was something happening to the Sheikah...or something involving them, at the very least. Only one possibility was apparent to her, but that one was absolutely ridiculous. After all, why would he risk execution by reappearing like that?

He could not be _that_ stupid, could he?

* * *

"You know, I thought the sight of that thing would be a lot more comforting than it is," Link said, shielding his eyes from the glare of the sun with his hand.

"My last encounter with it was hardly a positive one," Sheik replied, doing the same.

Out on the field just west of Caldhaven, _The Chimera_ was preparing to land. Their vantage point from the roof of Ise's estate was perfect for observing it. Some additions had been made to the ship, judging by the spindly, insectile-looking metal struts that were unfolding from its hull. They made the airship look like a giant, wingless bug that was coming in for landing. Actually, it looked more like a flying cigar, the more Sheik looked at it.

"Really, everything we've encountered in this land has brought us trouble in some fashion," Sheik added, hissing as the sunlight reflected off something very shiny on the ship's hull and right into his eye. "Makes me sceptical towards science in general."

"You're more comfortable with magic?" Link asked.

"Of course," Sheik said, looking at him. "With magic, you know where you stand: you cannot ever hope to understand it, and everyone is happy with that. Science, on the other hand, seems to draw in all those who wants to see what else it can do, pushing it further and further until the result is...well, weapons like that thing," he finished pointing at the airship, which was approaching the ground rather slowly. The new crew was clearly not yet experts at handling the thing. "You saw what Jedistern Tadian created back in the camp—that…electric coil-thing," he said. "'Unlimited power', he said it would create. What could that sort of power be used for, do you think?"

Link shrugged. "Same thing as magic?"

"And what happens when sorcerers, witches and warlocks gain enough power?"

Link blinked. "Is that a trick question? Vorpheus said there wasn't such a thing as 'enough' power..."

"Exactly," Sheik said. "And I imagine the same thing will happen the more advanced science becomes, just like magic. Except science can be explained and broken down into small enough pieces for anyone to understand if they study it closely enough. Imagine what would happen if suddenly thousands upon thousands of people from all walks of life suddenly gained power on the level of Vorpheus', without having learned the consequences of wielding it first?"

"Chaos," Link said without hesitation. "It'd be like Vorpheus going up against Ganondorf, only times...a thousand!"

Sheik nodded, crossing his arms and frowning. "Maybe I am just old-fashioned and unable to see how the benefits outweigh the disadvantages, but I cannot for the life of me imagine this...technological race ending well."

"There's always one comfort, though," Link said, putting his arm around Sheik's shoulders and drawing him close.

"And that is?" Sheik said, resting his head on the Hero's shoulder.

"If things go belly-up, you and me will be there to stop it."

Sheik smirked. "You might be, but I find myself rapidly running out of body parts to give for good causes."

Link was about to retort, but he was interrupted by an impressed whistle coming from behind them.

"Well, isn't that sweet?" Riveth said, her voice hoarse and breaths short. "A beautiful moment between two lovers."

"Which you just saw fit to spoil," Link said sourly, but smiling at the former general to show that he was joking.

"You're young, you'll have plenty more," she replied, walking up to them, her eyes fixed on _The Chimera_. "That thing sure doesn't look prettier in the daylight."

 _She is a mere shadow of her former self,_ Sheik said, studying Riveth. She had lost an alarming amount of weight because of her disease, and her skin was pale, looking like a ghost. Her clothes hung off her, and her hair seemed to be thinning considerably, evidence of her body desperately trying to keep itself alive despite the fact that her lungs were basically falling apart and taking the rest of her organs with them. _She is not long for this world..._

"What're you looking at me like that for?" she asked between breaths. "I ain't dead yet."

"Forgive me," Sheik said, bowing slightly. "I did not mean to stare."

"Nah, it's okay," she said, grinning. It was not a pleasant sight. Her constant coughing of blood had stained her teeth rusty red. "I know what I look like—a walking dead, heh."

 _You look nothing like a ReDead…yet,_ Sheik thought.

"Where are Agneta and Angen?" Link asked, trying to change the subject. "Gave 'em the slip, did ya?"

"Pretty much," the former general admitted. "Told them I wanted some time alone and climbed out the window. I bet they're still outside the door, waiting for me to call them back in. Don't take me wrong, I appreciate having two such skilled and caring people looking after me, but the fact is that I'm dying and I'd rather make the most out of the time I have left." She leaned on the guardrail and looked closely at the descending ship. "By the gods if that thing isn't ugly."

They watched as the struts extended fully, getting ready to hold up the ship's weight on the ground. Suddenly, the ship jerked and seemed to fall several hundred feet in an uncontrolled descent before regaining control just before the struts hit the ground. They buried themselves into the ground, and the ship rocked back and forth a few times as the momentum died down. Then the engines shut off, steam bellowing from the many vents and boiler exhausts.

Riveth guffawed. "Graceful!"

Link and Sheik laughed as well.

"This _was_ their maiden voyage, though, from what I hear," Sheik said in defence to the crew. "They've never flown anything like that before."

"Still not a good first impression," Riveth pointed out.

"True."

"They'll probably get better," Link said, scratching his chin. "I wonder what it feels like, to fly in something like that." His eyes narrowed with thought. "I wonder if they'll take passengers..."

"I am not getting on that thing." Both Riveth and Link looked at Sheik, surprised by the sudden statement and the no-nonsense tone it was spoken with. The Sheikah noticed their looks and grunted. "It's not natural, flying around in a tin can."

Link blinked for a few seconds before a knowing grin spread on his face. "Ooooh, I know what this is about..."

"Link—"

"What're you talking about?" Riveth asked.

"You're afraid it's going to be like the river crossing, aren't you?"

Sheik shot Link a warning look. "We were never going to speak of that again," he warned the Hero.

"With each other, sure," Link said, giving Riveth an amused look. "We were crossing a pretty big river on a ferry a few months before we came to Lumina, you see."

"Link..."

"And it turned out that Sheik gets seasick very easily."

Riveth paused. "He got seasick? On a river?"

Sheik sighed. "Yes, I got seasick on a bloody river. There, it's said. Can we move past it, please?" That had been a particularly embarrassing moment in his life and the last thing he needed was to be reminded of the crew of the ferry, the other passengers and the bloody Hero laughing their arses off at him as he hung over the side and revisited the food he'd had that day.

"It wasn't even a rough river," Link added, barely able to keep a straight face.

Riveth laughed again and slapped Sheik none-too-gently on the shoulder. "Oh, you poor little thing," she said. "I don't think you'll have to worry, though...don't think it's possible to get seasick while in the air."

"Airsick, then," Sheik said sourly. It really didn't help knowing that while he had been helplessly sick, Link had taken to the water like he was born for it. Granted, it had not been a real, sea-faring vessel, but he had immediately figured out the different parts of the ship and what each rope's purpose was. Hell, he'd even been given the wheel for a few minutes by the captain, who had been very amused by the extremely curious Hylian. Sheik could only imagine that Link would be even more at home on a real ship out on the sea, maybe in the middle of a huge storm, which would be strange for someone who had been raised in the middle of a forest. But then Link was always surprising him with innate skills and knowledge, and perhaps he should just stop assuming that the Kokiri-raised Hylian had any limits. And then Sheik remembered the time Link had told him that he'd given himself food poisoning so many times during his first quest, and the world was right again.

* * *

**Soul Remnants**

**Chapter 70**

* * *

The warmth from the blazing fire in Ise's study was a much welcome change from the freezing temperature outside. Rial shivered and rubbed his hands together in an attempt to get the feeling back in them as he was ushered into the chair in front of the Patrician's desk, after which the woman herself took a seat behind it.

"I am glad you made it back safely, general," Ise said, nodding silently to the servant who brought in two steaming cups of tea, disappearing immediately after. "Things are getting worse out there, according to my scouts."

Rial nodded, still trying to warm up his hands. "Rehm is getting desperate. At this point it seems like he is just trying to slow us down, throwing the army after us in small groups that have no real hope of fighting us, only stalling us at key locations. Barricades are being put up in crucial passes and valleys. We burn them down but they keep springing up as soon as we leave again."

"But why does he not simply gather the entirety of the Royal Army and crush you? Surely he has the manpower?"

"He would do exactly that, were his goal to defeat us and take the throne for himself." Rial took a sip of his tea, groaning with delight. He'd been sure his ears were going to fall off at some point during the trip back to Caldhaven, regretting his decision not to take the airship when he'd had the chance.

"And that is _not_ his goal?" Ise asked, raising her eyebrows.

"Indeed not," Rial confirmed. "From what we have been able to gather, his attention seems mostly focused on Prison's Peak and the mines beneath it. We do not know why, though there are theories that he is trying to release—"

"The Enlightened One," she interrupted. "What a ridiculous notion."

"You don't believe that he existed?" Rial asked.

"I don't," she said, shaking her head. "I just highly doubt that a man can survive with no food or drink in a stone coffin for a millennium, no matter how powerful a sorcerer he is. And if he were indeed as powerful as the stories claim, then surely he would have been able to escape at some point. If he could take on those accursed Goddesses in a straight fight, then a few shackles cannot be much of an obstacle." She drank some tea, looking thoughtful. "Hm, I just blasphemed and I was not struck down by lightning. I suppose the Goddesses aren't as vengeful as they once were."

Rial chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief. The woman was...interesting, that was for certain. "I don't know," he said. "The things I've seen these past few months...I thought I had a solid grip on the world and how it worked the day before King Robar was assassinated, and then everything was thrown into disarray. I thought I had regained said grip after I joined up with my aunt, but then it all went to shit again with _The Chimera_."

"What if Rehm is simply being overcome by age and superstition?" Ise suggested. "What if taking the throne was his initial goal and now...well, my grandfather was fine one moment and the next he was stark raving mad. Perhaps the dear councillor has suffered a similar episode and is reverting to his boyhood beliefs?"

"That would certainly be a huge relief," Rial admitted. "But I do not think that is the case. Our friends from Hyrule seem pretty damned set on the threat of the Enlightened One being real, so much that their princess has pledged her support and troops to our cause."

"And if she is simply here to take her friends back home?"

"Bringing a few thousand troops just for that is a bit of a stretch, wouldn't you say?"

"Well, perhaps she does not take security very lightly. After the terrible war she fought for seven years, I would certainly not blame her if she wanted to be absolutely sure she would be able to fight off anything."

"Even so, the Earl has also been speaking of stopping Rehm before he is able to reopen the mines. Frankly, until we can be absolutely sure that the Enlightened One is truly buried there and still alive or not, I am going to keep taking the threats seriously. If they are not, then we will have an easy time explaining to the people just what happened here. If not...well, then I think we will have a lot bigger problems than that."

"Hm, I suppose so," Ise said with a nod. She looked into the fireplace, sloshing some tea around in her mouth before swallowing and looking at him. "Speaking of our red-eyed friend, I hear that his...hm, cousin, was it? I hear that his cousin was the person responsible for the poisoning of King Robar. I wonder why no action has been taken to punish him for this?"

Rial shrugged. "Frankly, I have no idea where to even begin if I were to choose to arrest him for it. Besides, there are extenuating circumstances. He has done a great deal to help us in the war, such as taking out one of the armoured airships under construction in Ironhill. Also, there's a load of diplomatic problems to solve and...well, I'd rather not wake up in the night with the Earl's blade at my throat for having arrested his apparently only living relative. Besides, from what I have heard, his cousin is not particularly popular with Princess Zelda either, and she will probably take steps to ensure that justice is done when she arrives."

Ise gave him a sympathetic smile. "I do not envy you your position, general," she said, rising from her chair and walking around the desk, standing beside him. "It must be such a strain, all this responsibility."

"Well, I was not given much choice in the matter," Rial said. "The responsibility was more or less dumped on me."

"You are handling it well, if I may say so," the Patrician said, putting her hand on his shoulder. "You must have a skilled stress-reliever."

"Pardon?" Rial asked, looking up at her.

"Well, I hear it is not unusual for soldiers in the field to...how do I put it delicately...help one another out when the burden of responsibility becomes too much to bear. I hear there are a great number of female soldiers in your army. I can only assume that—"

"Oh, no, nothing like that!" Rial said, practically jumping out his chair with a bright blush adorning his cheeks, practically glowing. "I...I do not engage in such abuse of power!"

"Surely it is not abuse if both parts get some much-needed stress-relief out of it?" Ise asked, stepping closer.

"Maybe not, but...it wouldn't be right," he replied, trying to fight down the blush, which only grew brighter the more he tried.

"And why is that?" the Patrician asked, even closer.

"I...there's someone else," he said, realising that Ise was the last person he should reveal his attraction to Victor to. What a scandal it would be, and when the war was over she would undoubtedly let the fact slip to the other nobles and everything would just turn to...well, shit.

"And who is that?" she asked.

"Someone...not with the army," he explained.

"And where is she, then, if not with you and the army?"

"I'm not sure," he said. "The war..."

"I see," Ise said, nodding with a kind look on her face. "Well, I certainly hope she is well, and that you are both reunited when all this is over."

"As do I," he agreed, relieved that he had been able to snake his way out of the topic.

The relief only lasted for a few seconds as the Patrician closed the little distance that was left between them, stood on her tiptoes and kissed him.

* * *

"Do you think I overdid it?" Zelda asked.

"It is not my place to comment on such things, Princess," Tira replied, standing beside her. She kept a hand on the hilt of her sword, prepared to draw it in an instant at the first sign of trouble. When the princess turned her head and gave Tira a fierce look, she swallowed heavily and said, "...perhaps the decision to burn the countess' estate was a bit rushed, Princess."

"Oh, I don't know," Zelda said, looking back across the field. Columns of smoke rose high from behind the walls of the city of Urne. "I find that it sends a clear message to those who try to hurt my friends. Countess Marlotta will not repeat her mistake, nor will any of the other conspirators, once she sees this." She blinked. "If she survives Sheik, that is."

"Well, at least the citizens of this kingdom will appreciate the fact that you spared the rest of the city...and its inhabitants," Tira said.

"I find no reason to harass civilians and the innocent," the princess said. "Besides, another kingdom involving itself in the business of another is never popular. Hopefully this will build some goodwill towards future diplomatic relations."

"If things go according to plan, they'll be worshipping you, I think," Tira said.

"Oh, that is not what I am after," the princess replied. "A little grovelling would be nice, though." Her bodyguard gave her am incredulous look. "I'm not allowed to joke?"

"You need to make it clear you are actually joking, though."

"I thought my eyebrows made that clear. Aren't they?"

Tira studied the miniscule, barely noticeable twitch in the princess' eyebrows that supposedly signalled that she had just made a joke, wondering whether or not honesty was the right way to go in the current situation.

"I'll interpret that frown as a no," Zelda said, huffing.

"...Perhaps a wry smile would be more fitting?"

The princess. "I realise that this may not be a proper discussion to be having while a castle burns behind us."

Tira looked at the column of smoke, nodding sagely. "Perhaps not."

"Your Majesty, there is an urgent message for you!" one of the Luminan officers called out as he rode towards them, accompanied by a lightly armoured rider wearing neither Luminan nor Hyrulian colours. As they came closer, Zelda saw that the other rider was a human, but did not seem to have the same skin tone as the rest of Lumina. They stopped a few paces away, aware of Tira's hand, which was resting on the hilt of her sword. "This is...er, what was your name again?" the officer asked the stranger.

"My name isn't important," the man said, brushing his hair out of his eyes. His face was red and soaked with sweat, as if he had been the one running instead of his horse. "What's important is that I have found you, Your Highness," he said, bowing as deeply as he could in his saddle. "I have been looking for you and your party for the past three days."

"Why?" Zelda asked, sceptical towards this newcomer. She did not like the fact that news of her presence had reached so far inland already. It meant that it was only a matter of time before this Councillor Rehm directed the full strength of the Royal Army against them.

"I have a message from my commander," the rider explained. "He invites you and your officers to have an urgent meeting concerning a possible, temporary partnership."

"Partnership?"

"In the war, Your Highness," the man elaborated. "He has realised that there is no way that we can avoid being dragged into the war, willingly or not. He has also realised that things may very quickly go south should we be involved, and has decided that allying himself, and by extension us, with the military force with the most chance of winning the war, will improve our chances of survival greatly."

"Very pragmatic of him," Zelda said. "And what does this commander of yours have to offer us?"

"A company of eight-hundred experienced veterans, Your Highness, ready and able to do any job you find necessary." He straightened up in his saddle, attempting to look somewhat tough and dangerous, but the sweaty face and red cheeks only made him look like a little boy...which, now that Zelda looked at him closer, he probably was. No older than twenty, perhaps not even eighteen. Barely old enough to join the army, perhaps.

"That is indeed a tempting offer," Zelda said, nodding slowly. "However, I am not interested in dealing with those who will not even give me their name. So please, sir, introduce yourself."

The young man looked reluctant, but nodded. "I am Sergeant Jarno Nar, Your Highness."

"Pleased to meet you, Sergeant Nar," Zelda said, giving him a regal nod while at the same time getting the feeling that she had heard that name before, or at least one very similar to it. That always set off warning bells in her head, because the few times it had happened so far nothing good came of it. "And your company?"

"Your Highness?" Nar asked.

"Your company," Zelda repeated. "I assume that you are not a part of the Luminan army based on your clothing, lack of recognisable colours and the fact that the good lieutenant here has not given a single indication that he knows who you are or where you are from. Therefore, I can only guess that you are a mercenary, and mercenaries rarely work alone, preferring to retain their strength in numbers. Ergo, you are part of a company, though you bear no insignia or flag, so you must either be very interested in keeping your identity secret or you are a fairly amateurish bunch. Given that your commander has offered me eight hundred _experienced_ soldiers, I will assume that it is not the latter. Which leads me to wonder why you are interested in keeping your identity secret." She paused. "That question got away from me, didn't it?"

The sergeant looked confused for a few moments, most likely weighing the pros and cons of just running away from the conversation. There were more cons than pros, apparently, because he sighed and nodded. "We are not amateurs, Your Highness. We are known as the Repentant Regiment."

"I have heard of you," the lieutenant said. "You arrived in Lumina a few months before General Mirn left for Hyrule. There was a big hubbub about your illegal crossing of the border."

"Yes, that was us. We were desperate, our supplies were running low. We had no intention of actually crossing the border, but desperation forced our hand." Sergeant Nar admitted. "However, the issue was resolved when we paid the toll and a rather substantial fine for our crossing. We were then given permission by the King to stay temporarily until we were able to reorganise. Unfortunately, before we were able to, the war broke out and...well, we have been trying to stay neutral ever since." He looked apologetically at them. "Until now." Then he focused his attention on Zelda. "Now you know who we are, Your Highness. Please, consider our offer."

"I have already considered it," Zelda said, ignoring the incredulous look she got from Tira. "However, it is an offer I am hesitant to take, given the nature of deception that could very well be hiding a nefarious scheme. There is one thing, and one thing only, that will remove that shadow, sergeant. I would like a meeting with your commander. I would like to judge the man for myself before I sign an agreement with mercenaries, who, if you will excuse my rudeness, I have not had very happy dealings with in the past."

The sergeant looked disappointed, as if he knew that the deal was no-go before negotiations had even started. However, he nodded, somewhat miserably. "I am sure the commander would like that as well," he said with little enthusiasm. "Please, follow me to our camp, and I am sure—"

"I am not going anywhere, sergeant," Zelda said, shaking her head. "If your commander wants a deal, he will have to come to me. We will be making camp in the fields of Urne tonight. I will let the sentries know who you are and to let you in. You may go, sergeant."

Surprised at the sudden dismissal, the sergeant looked ready to protest, but the warning looks he received from both Tira and the lieutenant quickly made him reconsider. He nodded and bowed respectfully and turned his steed around, quickly disappearing into the landscape. After he was out of earshot, Tira looked at her princess.

"Are you sure that is wise, Princess?" she asked. "We have no idea who they are, truly."

"Which makes a meeting with their commander a good opportunity to learn more about them and whether or not it is a good idea to ally ourselves with them." Her eyes widened. "Oh, shit—I mean, damn—I mean, tarnation, I forgot to ask for the commander's name." She blushed, realising her language had been anything but regal. "Oh well, I suppose I shall learn it tonight, if the man is interested."

"With all due respect, Your Highness—"

"Princess."

"...Princess, perhaps it is not such a good idea to take help from mercenaries who are...well, illegal immigrants? I know very little about this Repentant Regiment..."

"Perhaps they too will earn a little goodwill from the citizens of Lumina," Zelda said, giving the lieutenant a kind smile. "I will, of course, confer with the commanding officers of the Luminan forces about this. I would not dream of making such a major decision in a country that is not even my own."

"The officers will appreciate that, I believe, Princess," the lieutenant said. "I shall inform them immediately."

"You do that, lieutenant. In the meantime, my bodyguard and I will withdraw to my tent."

"Princess, I do not believe the city would object to you staying there for the night," the lieutenant said, looking at the city of Urne. The flames seemed to be dying down now, the smoke column growing thinner.

"It is bad enough that I entered the city with my soldiers and burned down the estate of its ruler," Zelda said. "I don't think it will be appreciated if I take up residence there as well. Besides, I am no stranger to living in war camps, but thank you for your concern, lieutenant."

The lieutenant nodded, bowed and rode off.

As soon as he had turned his eyes away, Zelda let the mask she had been holding in place for the past fifteen minutes fall and grimaced. Tenderly putting her hand on her thigh, she groaned. The pain was getting worse again. The medicine was wearing off. Tira was at her side in an instant, a nearly empty bottle of the wretched stuff in her hand. Zelda took it wordlessly and gulped down the remaining liquid in the bottle, nearly retching at the taste.

"Princess?" Tira asked.

"It's getting worse," Zelda said with gritted teeth. "I need to lie down."

"Your tent is probably already set up," Tira said, pointing towards the rapidly growing war camp in the field ahead of them. "Come." She did not even ask for permission as she grabbed the reins of Zelda's horse and began trotting ahead, guiding it.

"You enjoy ordering me about, Tira?" Zelda asked, remembering that, as her bodyguard, Tira did have the power of veto in the matters concerning her health.

Tira took a few seconds to answer, but the sly grin on her face when she turned around to answer spoke volumes of how she felt about it. "Yes."

It made Zelda feel even surer that her decision to make Tira her bodyguard was the right one.

"I _will_ send someone to fetch the physician as well. Just to make sure you will be all right," Tira added.

"Whatever you say, Mistress."

It was worth it just to see the blush on Tira's face.

* * *

Later that evening, just after supper, the commander of the Repentant Regiment arrived in the camp. Zelda and the officers of both armies were still gathered in her tent after the meal, so they simply remained seated at the table after the cutlery and such was cleared away (one had to travel in style, after all).

A pair of the Regiment's soldiers was the first to enter in a blatant display of discipline and semblance of a legitimate military force, though unrecognised by any state, kingdom or country. Sergeant Nar was one of them, though he was now wearing what seemed to be something resembling a dress uniform as opposed to the rough travelling clothes he'd donned when first meeting Zelda. Their camp was not far away, apparently. The Regiment's colours were predominantly a very pale shade of yellow with white trimmings to accentuate the physique of the uniform's wearer. The only insignia that could be seen was one of a skull, worn on the arm. Usually that would indicate anything but a peaceful group of people, but Zelda remembered from her education on symbolism that a skull could very well portray an individual's desire for repentance. Of course, she could easily be wrong, but she was willing to give the Regiment the benefit of the doubt.

Said benefit disappeared out the window, however, as the commander himself stepped inside the tent. He too was wearing a dress uniform, just as devoid of symbols and decorations as those of his men. It was quite a bit bigger, however, on account of the impressive bulk of his stomach. The man was quite...rotund. And far older than Zelda had expected. He looked quite grandfatherly really, reminding her more than a little of...of...

...

"You!" Zelda growled, rising from her seat, pointing an accusing finger at him while ignoring the painful twinge from her thigh.

"Oh damn, she remembers me," Commander Riner, formerly of The Legion, muttered, the cheerful look on his face disappearing, much like his hair seemed to be doing. "Your Highness," he said, bowing. "What a delight it is to see your...gently scowling face again. It feels like it has been forever since I gazed upon your lovely visage."

"Clearly it has not been long enough, Riner," Zelda said, still not quite believing what she was seeing. This man was one of those responsible for the rape of Hyrule over the course of seven years. It was only out of desire not to become like them that she had let the remnants of the legions leave Hyrule unharmed, not to mention paid them a handsome sum not to come back. She had a hoped that the sight of Sheik approaching them with the head of the second-command of the legion's head in a bag would be enough to scare them all off the soldier profession forever, but that was all in vain, apparently. "I should have known you and your so-called men wouldn't be far away in all this. Tell me, how many innocents have you murdered this time?"

She heard the sound of Tira's armour as her bodyguard tensed behind her upon realising who their visitors were, but she thankfully remained quiet. The Hyrulian officers at the table were already glaring at Riner, not bothering with hiding their disgust, while the Luminan ones were quietly exchanging looks, wondering what was going on.

"Your Majesty, I can assure you that my men and I are innocent in all of this," Riner said, his usually dramatic gestures toned down, most likely recognising the immense disadvantage he was at. "We were merely caught up in the events."

"You expect me to believe that?" Zelda asked. "You only arrived here because you were running out of supplies. Hah, as I recall I paid you more than enough money to keep your Legions fed for years. But you simply could not resist it, could you, the desire to spill innocent blood? Gentlemen," she said to the Luminan officers, "let me introduce you to Commander Reiner. He was third-in-command of the mercenary company The Legion. They were responsible for burning and murdering their way across Hyrule while Ganondorf took my father's throne. Your kingdom has been housing band of murderers and rapists."

"This is an outrage!" one of the colonels barked. "How dare you show your face around here?!"

"Guards, arrest that man!"

"Execute him on the spot!"

The din grew so loud that Zelda could not even hear herself think. The begging, pleading look Riner sent her, however, surprised her when she suddenly felt a twinge of sympathy for the man. He looked anxious to say something. She tried to tell the officers to calm down, but their voices drowned hers out like the roar of a waterfall. She looked to Tira for help, and while she seemed none-too-interested in helping Riner, she knew when to keep her opinion to herself. She took a breath.

"SHUT THE HELL UP, ALL OF YOU!"

It was an impressive piece of bellowing, managing to shock every man in the room into silence. Even Riner watched her with wide eyes.

"Thank you," Zelda said, nodding to Tira while trying to ignore the slight whistling sound that was permeating her ear. She made a mental note to ask her physician about that later while also wondering if she should ask Tira to teach her to shout like that. "Commander Riner, it seems there is something you wish to say. Keep in mind that I intend to have you thrown out of the camp immediately after, so it had better be good."

"I was trying to explain why I am here," Riner said, sounding uncertain. "At least until your friends began to call for my head to roll, which I admit it does deserve to, and then your...rather impressive guard there spoke up. Impressive voice, by the way my dear," he added, nodding to Tira, who simply stared back at him with a steely gaze. "Right... Uh, it is true, as you say, that we were given a substantial amount of money to leave Hyrule and never come back, and that is indeed what we used the money for initially."

"Initially?" Zelda asked, venom dripping from her voice.

"Yes, er, you see, I was...usurped after about a month after we left. Some of the younger men did not appreciate my style of, ah, leadership and my newfound love of peace. So they...left. Two thousand men just up and left during the night, regretfully taking the coffers with them, leaving the rest of us with nothing but the lint in our pockets. I tried to keep the rest together for a while, trying to stay out of trouble at the same time, but hunger is a strong sapper of strength, will and loyalty, and so several others left."

The officers were exchanging dubious glances, but Zelda stilled them with a look. Perhaps she had misjudged the man after all...

Riner continued, encouraged by the lack of vocal condemnation from the gentlemen and royalty in the room. "Things were getting desperate. After we were denied entrance to several kingdoms because of our reputation and history, I renamed us. I chose the name Repentant Regiment because...well, those of us who remain are truly regretful of our actions during the war in Hyrule, and we would seek forgiveness though I strongly doubt it will ever be given. However, there were still kingdoms sceptical towards us because...well, who trusts mercenaries completely, right? Ha-ha." The laugh was as limp as a wet noodle. Seeing no one else joining in, he continued, "We were even denied purchasing supplies with the little money we were able to scrounge up from across the company, and so we saw no other option but to enter Lumina covertly and hope to the gods that we were not discovered until we recuperated."

"But you were," one of the Luminan officers said. "And you were nearly arrested for entering the country without permission."

"Indeed...lieutenant," Riner said. "And we apologised profusely for the incident, and it was resolved after we gave all the money we had left to pay the fine. It was only thanks to the generosity of the council that we were able to survive after that."

"The council?" Zelda asked. "They helped you?"

"Well, a representative of the council did," Riner admitted. "Rehm, his name was."

"Of course," she said with a sigh. "Not a damn, er, darn thing happens in this kingdom without him being involved, it seems."

"And this is where my tale grows...unpleasant," Riner said hesitantly. "We were...unable to pay the taxes necessary to be allowed to stay in Lumina, but we were offered a deal. We were to cooperate with select elements of the Royal Army to make it seem like there was a rebellion afoot."

"Are _you_ the ones responsible for the burning villages and murdered civilians?!" the lieutenant who had greeted Sergeant Nar asked, baring his teeth Riner.

"The burning villages, yes," Riner admitted. "The murdered civilians, no. I made it quite clear to Councillor Rehm that I would not murder for him. We only engaged in activities where no innocents were hurt."

"Then explain why hundreds of villagers lie dead at your feet, _Commander_!"

"Rehm's men are responsible for those, lieutenant."

"What a ridiculous story," the colonel from before declared. "What could Rehm possibly have to gain from such a ludicrous arrangement?!"

The lieutenant seemed thoughtful, however. "Rehm _did_ push for increased militarisation to combat the supposed rebels, colonel," he said. "What if this was the first stage of his plan to take over Lumina? This was around the same time the King began to act...erratically."

"Do you seriously believe this man, lieutenant?" the colonel demanded before looking at Zelda. "Your Majesty, surely you find this as dubious as I?"

Zelda had steepled her fingers on the table in front of her, regarding Commander Riner with cold, calculating eyes. "I do not know what to believe, colonel," she said. "I did not ever think I would be able to lay my eyes on Commander Riner again without lopping off his head myself. However, I find his story...believable. Perhaps it is because I do not believe anyone would be able to make up such a pathetic story, no matter how desperate they were. From what I have heard of Rehm, he seems like the type of man who would do just this kind of thing."

The colonel looked outraged, but seemed to agree with her statement about the ridiculousness of the story. "I suppose you could not make such things up."

"Thank you, Your Majesty—"

"I was not finished, commander," Zelda interrupted him. "I have a desire to run you out of the camp for the bastard you are, but it occurs to me that my army is vastly outnumbered against Rehm's forces. You _seem_ to be a man of honour, dubious as it may be given your profession. Can I count on you to truly fight with us, against your benefactor Rehm?"

"Yes, Your Majesty," Riner said, kneeling along with his Sergeant Nar and the other soldier. "I realise now, far too late as it is, that Councillor Rehm is an enemy that must be stopped at all cost."

"I am willing to grant you temporary amnesty so that you may fight with us, commander," Zelda said, ignoring the incredulous looks she received from the officers. "However, there are several conditions which you must accept."

"Name them, Your Majesty."

"First, your troops will be integrated into the regular army and put under the command of _my_ officers, with you in the role as advisor. That way you will have no opportunity to organise any sort of betrayal or perform actions that will hinder our war effort. Second, upon the successful completion of this military campaign, your company will disband permanently, something I will personally oversee. Third, you will make a public statement about your actions and involvement with Councillor Rehm, so that there can be no doubt about his guilt in all this, ensuring that he remains behind bars until his death for treason. Fourth, you will agree to any prison sentence the King sees fit to condemn you to in the light of the crimes you have committed here."

"And if I am condemned to death?" Riner asked, clearly hesitant to agree to the terms.

"Then I will make a passionate plea for your life, commander," Zelda said. "Well, perhaps not passionate, but I will make sure that you are given a fair sentence. One that does not include a premature death, as it were. Bottom line is, I will ensure your survival, commander. Break any of these terms, however, and I will kill you myself. I have run out of compassion for war criminals, as you can probably guess."

"Those are...tough terms, Your Majesty," Riner said, looking up at her from his kneeling position. "But fair, and I agree to them."

"Commander—" Sergeant Nar began, but he was silenced by a stern look from the much older man.

"Then we have an agreement," Zelda said. "Unless any of the gentlemen gathered her have any objections. You have all heard my terms, and I believe they are fair both to Lumina and to the...Repentant Regiment. As this is not my kingdom, it is not my right to name sentences—that belongs to King Victor."

The colonel, whose name Zelda could never remember, rose from his chair and, after another silent exchange of looks with the rest of the gathered officers, nodded. "I agree with Princess Zelda's terms, and so do my men. We will accept Commander Riner's assistance and fight along with his men, provided that he does indeed subject himself to the judgement of the rightful King upon the war's conclusion."

"Then it is settled," Zelda said, also rising from her seat. "Commander Riner, you will return to your camp and remain there until my men arrive in the morning to take command. Please leave directions with one of the scouts as you leave. Thank you, that will be all."

Riner looked surprised, but he reined himself in quickly and got to his feet, snapping off a salute. "Yes, Your Majesty. Gentlemen," he nodded to the officers and was gone from the tent in seconds.

"Post a reinforced lookout during the night, ensure that they do not come charging out of the forest like wild animals," Zelda told everyone present. "Just because I am willing to trust the man a little does not mean I am stupid. Any signs of betrayal on Riner's sider, and I will come down upon him like the rage of the Goddesses."

That seemed to satisfy the men, and they all bid her good night as they withdrew to their own tents, leaving Zelda and Tira alone. The princess knew what was coming and braced herself as she watched Tira close the flap and tie it down.

It was like a storm unleashed.

"What the hell are you thinking, making a deal like that with him?!" Tira demanded, turning a fearsome gaze upon her princess. "After everything they did during the war!"

"As much as I would like to take my anger from that time out on him, I have the bigger picture to think about," she replied as calmly as possible, trying not to anger Tira even more. Zelda knew that she had practically betrayed her in Tira's eyes. "We find ourselves outnumbered in the middle of enemy territory. The more fighting men we are able to field, the better our chances of winning will be. Field enough men, and Rehm might even surrender without a damn fight, and then Riner will answer for his crimes."

"The bigger picture can go fuck itself!" Tira roared, stomping up to her, glaring from the other side of the table. Zelda stood up and hobbled to stand on the same side as Tira. "Do you have any idea how many people suffered because of them?! Because of him?!"

"I am quite aware, Tira, I—"

"Do you?! Do you really?! I never saw you out there, getting your hands dirty, seeing your father hanged just for the fun of it, your mother and sisters crying over his grave! Seeing them cower in the corner as the legionnaires came for them over and over again until you finally stick a blade in their pricks just when they tried to stick them in you!"

Her words were rude, and loud, and while the anger on Tira's face was terrifying, Zelda knew that Tira would never lay a finger on her. It was all bark and no bite, an expression of rage and frustration built up from the years of oppression and abuse suffered during the war. It was honest, heartfelt...and heart-breaking.

"You never saw your best friend publicly humiliated before she was taken to Goddesses know where and used again and again before having her throat slit and dumped right outside your front door!"

Tears were gathering in the corners of Zelda's eyes, mirroring those that were already flowing down Tira's cheeks. Goddesses knew how long the girl had carried these emotions, kept them buried under the layers of discipline and self-control that were required to be a soldier. An outburst like this had been long coming, Zelda knew. The deal with Riner had simply been the proverbial last drop.

And Tira was right. That was the best and worst part of it. Zelda had fought for seven years, yes, but always surrounded by an army completely devoted to her. So many civilians who had not been able to evacuate, those who had been caught before being able to escape...unspeakable atrocities had been inflicted upon them, the likes of which she could not even imagine.

"What was her name?"

"What?" the question surprised Tira so much that she even forgot to yell. She just stared at her princess, who was now crying just as much as she was.

"Your friend. What was her name?" Zelda said.

"Amily," Tira replied, still stunned by the crying princess in front of her. "Her name was Amily and...she...wasn't just my friend..."

Zelda came closer, putting her arms around Tira and hugging her tight. The warrior's shoulders were shaking, but she did not resist the embrace, letting her comfort her. Running her hands along her back, letting her know that her pain was not unnoticed, not overlooked.

And through it all, Zelda felt pathetic. She was the princess and rightful ruler of Hyrule, and all she had been doing during the war was to order people to do things, including Sheik, the person she claimed to consider a brother. And she had actually claimed to feel pain throughout it all...but what was the burden of command compared to actually witnessing and feeling all those cruel things?

"Princess..."

She looked up, intending to ask Tira what it was, but was surprised when the taller woman's lips were suddenly on hers, her arms drawing the princess closer. It was...not unpleasant.

After Aveil and she had come to an agreement that their relationship, given their respective positions, should stop, she had begun to miss that most of all. It was a decision based on mutual agreement, given the scandal that would erupt if the rest of the world found out about it. And there was always the issue of having to produce an heir... But even so, Zelda missed having someone to kiss, and to be kissed back. The warmth of another body against hers...

As much as she had missed it, though, the kiss still surprised her so much that her entire being seized up. Tira must have misinterpreted it, and quickly broke contact, letting go of the princess and taking several steps backwards, looking shocked. She must have surprised even herself with such an action.

"I'm so sorry, Your Majesty!" she exclaimed, backing away, beginning to fumble with ties to the tent flap, her hands shaking. "I did not mean to offend—I, I, didn't...I...!" She was not even able to form coherent sentences.

Zelda composed herself, adjusted her clothing and strode over to her bodyguard, placing a calming hand on her shoulder. "Tira..." she said, gently putting a hand on her cheek and forcing her to look at her. "I didn't mind that at all," she whispered, leaning in slowly, making sure to give Tira every chance to stop it, should she so desire. She didn't. Their lips met again, and this time, neither of them pulled away.


	8. Chapter 8

* * *

**Soul Remnants**

**Chapter 71**

* * *

Zelda's arrival at Caldhaven was met with a mix of suspicion and joy. Many were under the impression that the princess of Hyrule was there to ensure that Lumina fell under her control once the civil war was over, while others were simply happy to see that a foreign ally was coming to their rescue. There were no rose petals raining down on the new arrivals or exuberant music being played from the towers, but the people of the city crowded the streets, all trying to catch a glimpse of Zelda as she rode towards the Patrician's estate. Rumours about a possible injury were buzzing, and the stiff position she was sitting in only seemed to strengthen them.

"They sure are happy to see you," Tira said over the braying of the masses. "One would think the war was already over."

Zelda looked at her with a smile, trying to hide the grimace of pain the act of turning in the saddle caused her.

"It renews their confidence, seeing us," she said. "I have a feeling these people have been on the losing side for quite some time. Or felt like it, at the very least."

"Even so, they should not be losing sight of their target," the bodyguard said, looking threateningly at a man who was getting just a bit too close to the princess for her liking. "The time to celebrate has yet to come."

"So pessimistic," Zelda chided her. "Sometimes one simply needs to laugh and be happy, if only for a short time. It sort of...rejuvenates you, makes you ready for more fighting and struggle. Goddesses know we needed it during the war with Ganondorf."

"Resting is one thing, but frivolity—"Tira began, but Zelda cut her off with a shake of her head.

"Frivolity? I see no frivolity here." The princess looked around them. "I just see curious onlookers."

"And I see security risks everywhere," Tira muttered. "We should have brought more men, and this Patrician of the city should have arranged for armed escort through the streets."

"You don't think fifteen of the best fighters from both armies are enough?" Zelda asked, looking backwards at the column of soldiers following them at a steady pace.

"Not if all the civilians currently watching us suddenly decide to rush forward," Tira replied, still scanning for enemies, imaginary or not.

"That is a bit paranoid, is it not?" Zelda said, smiling at her bodyguard. She had no doubts about the dark-skinned woman's capabilities in a fight. After all, she had seen them for herself. However, her enthusiasm could be a bit...tiring at times. Although, she'd rather have Tira protecting her if against all expectations her suspicions came true.

Tira glanced at her princess, looking thoughtful. "Perhaps, but I have no problem with being considered paranoid. It's my job to be, as it is my job to ensure your well being at all times, day and night. And it is a job I enjoy very much."

"Awww, you're so sweet," Zelda said, giving Tira a knowing smile that, after a moment's confusion, coloured the proud warrior's cheeks a dark red. Tira had not realised the implications in her sentence, which only made the princess smile wider. "Have I told you how cute you are when you are blushing?"

"Princess, please, this is hardly an appropriate place or time for this conversation," Tira said hurriedly, looking around. "What if anyone heard?"

"I doubt anyone can hear anything with all these buzzing conversations going on around us," Zelda said, still smiling. Besides, she was quite confident that any of their words that were not swallowed up by the talking amongst the townspeople would disappear among the clopping of their mounts' horseshoes against the cobblestones. "But if you feel that badly about that night, I will drop it—"

"I didn't feel bad!" Tira said a tad louder than she appeared to have intended, looking flustered. "It is just not something I'm comfortable with in public, and neither should you."

Zelda didn't reply, only nodded at her bodyguard and let the subject drop. She hadn't meant to anger or embarrass Tira _that_ much. She couldn't help it. After the night of their first kiss, when Tira had so confidently taken control of the situation and positively dominated her princess, Zelda had been feeling giddy and surprisingly happy given everything that was happening around them. Not even the daily meetings where Commander Riner, most likely the person she hated the most in the world at the moment, participated could dampen the fluttering feeling she got whenever Tira looked at her with something that wasn't just the concern of a bodyguard.

She knew even then that she was falling in love again, just like she had with Aveil. But with Aveil it had been slightly different. There had been the excitement of knowing that what she was doing was highly taboo, that a lot of trouble would ensue if either of them were caught. At first neither of them had cared, had simply let their passion decide for them, allowed themselves to become enraptured with each other and paying no heed to the consequences. But then the war had ended, and both of them had been forced to accept the reality for what it was—they were the monarchs of their respective peoples, and as such had certain duties, the most pressing of which being the production of an heir.

Zelda felt unnatural in that she felt no desire to do so. Perhaps it was because most of her childhood had been taken away from her Ganondorf and the war, but she felt like she had so many other things she wanted to do before having to settle down, find a husband and just...be the queen, she supposed. In short, she felt like her life had been put on hold for seven years, and she was going to be enjoying those now that she had a chance, and if that meant she could fall for her bodyguard, especially when said bodyguard felt the same, then so be it. If the cost of feeling natural meant having to throw away any enjoyment of life, then she was happy to postpone it indefinitely. Sheik wouldn't agree, of course, but then he had Link to knock some sense into him.

Another smile crossed her face at the thought of her adopted brothers. She'd been informed that the two were staying at the Patrician's estate and could hardly believe that she would be seeing their faces again in a matter of minutes. They had a lot of explaining to do...

"Princess," Tira said, catching her attention. "We are getting close."

Zelda shook herself out of her thoughts and started to pay attention to the streets around them. The Patrician had upped the security around her own estates, apparently, judging by the city guards lining the street leading up to the gates, keeping the civilians back. These were dressed in finer clothes than the ones in the streets behind them, and looked far more enthusiastic about having royalty visiting their city, clamouring for a chance to impress and improve their relations with a royal house, even if it was a foreign one. Nobles and the wealthy were the same wherever one went, Zelda decided with a slight roll of her eyes. Trying not to feel too much annoyance at the self-proclaimed "betters" of the city, she glanced up at the stone manor that the Patrician resided in.

It looked surprisingly subtle considering how much power this Ise had wielded during her days as a member of the council. There were few decorations apart from the token gargoyles and delicate carvings beneath the windows. A banner bearing what she assumed to be the family crest flew over the iron gates, which were held open by several more guards who stepped aside as Zelda and the others entered the courtyard.

A young man in official-looking clothes were standing in the middle of the spacious courtyard, nervously clasping his hands in front of him, bowing deeply as Zelda stopped her horse in front of him.

"Your Majesty, welcome to Caldhaven," the young man said, looking too nervous to meet her eyes.

For a moment, Zelda wondered if she was truly projecting such an air of menace or arrogance that it discouraged people from even looking at her, but then she realised that it wasn'tsomething _she_ did at all. No, it was the steady glare he was receiving from Tira that was frightening the young man so, and Zelda immediately felt a pang of sympathy for him. Being on the receiving end of _that_ stare would unnerve anyone. She'd bet even _Sheik_ would feel slightly uneasy under it. She made a note to introduce the two later—she had a feeling it would be quite entertaining.

"Thank you," she told the young man. "Might I ask your name?"

"Er..." he looked embarrassed, having obviously forgotten to introduce himself. "Cody, Your Majesty. I am Lady Ise's assistant."

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Cody," Zelda said, giving him a kind smile, hoping to offset the blatant fear that was rolling off Cody in waves now. She tried giving Tira a look urging her to tone it down, but it only seemed to intensify the terrifying stare. Sighing inwardly, she turned her attention back to the young man.

"Lady Ise is expecting you in the main hall, please follow me," Cody said, bowing again.

"Of course," Zelda said, letting go of her reigns and dangling her legs free of the stirrups.

She waited until Tira had dismounted from her own horse and walked over to her, holding out a hand, which she took and allowed the bodyguard to gently help her down without jarring her injured leg too much. Once Zelda was on the ground, Tira reached up to the princess' saddle and withdrew the cane that one of the army smiths had so kindly made for her after the battle and handed it to her.

"I apologise for my lack of mobility," she said, giving Cody a practiced smile to cover up the grimace she truly wanted to make as she tried to put a little weight on her leg. She wouldn't be able to walk around like this for more than hour or so before the pain grew too severe, but she was damned if she was going to allow an admittedly minor injury (at least compared to some of the far more horrific she had seen on the other gate attackers) ruin the first meeting with the leaders of the loyalists. She was damn well going to walk by herself! She could not afford to appear weak, not now. "But I fear that I may have been a bit overconfident in my own abilities upon attacking the southern gate. Perhaps we can take it a bit slow?"

"Naturally, Your Majesty," Cody said. His nervousness was showing no signs of disappearing, his face already drenched in cold sweat. Tira was giving him a different look now, one that challenged him to be anything but accommodating towards the princess' wishes. Zelda felt bad about almost laughing once Cody's eyes flicked towards the hilt of Tira's sword, upon which the bodyguard's hand rested firmly. As if she was going to allow Tira to go on a rampage with it. Without a good reason, at least. "If you and your party will please come this way," he said, beginning to head for the double doors that led into the estate, subtly making sure that the princess could keep up.

None of them said anything as Cody led them through the first couple of rooms of the estate. Zelda's assessment of Ise's character based on her belongings continued. The interior of the mansion so far matched the outside. There were few distracting pieces of art or tapestries or paintings, not to mention a very obvious of the usually garish items of opulence that people of her status usually displayed in order to awaken the fires of jealousy within their guests. Oh, there could be no doubt that the woman was wealthy. The furniture, general build quality and the items that were on display, while quite simple, were definitely the kind that would put a commoner into lifelong debt.

So Ise was indeed extremely rich, but not the type of person who flaunted it. That was good, Zelda decided. That meant that she could actually stand to be around her for more than a few minutes at a time.

"The main hall," Cody said as they stopped just in front of another set of double doors. "Lady Ise and the other rebel leaders will be inside."

"Is there anything I should know before speaking to them?" Zelda asked him. "Any subjects that should be avoided?"

"None that I know of, Your Majesty," Cody replied, casting careful glances at Tira, making sure he was not speaking out of turn. He was likely thanking his lucky stars that he hadn't been disembowelled yet. "Shall I announce you?"

"Yes, please do so," Zelda said, smiling encouragingly at Cody as he opened the doors, stepped through and announced her presence with a surprisingly loud and bellowing voice.

* * *

Sheik found himself feeling restless as he and Link stood waiting in the grand hall. They were dressed in the finest clothes Ise had been able to conjure up, as were Rial, Riveth and Ise herself, though Riveth was currently sitting on a chair. Around them stood most of the rebel leadership along with the closest thing to an honour guard that could be mustered. This was an auspicious occasion, after all. The rebels would be united with some much needed reinforcements along with a strong ally in the form of Hyrule's princess and her men.

A quick glance around the room told Sheik that _he_ was the only one feeling anything but excitement and joy at Zelda's arrival. He had heard some troubling rumours about her a few days before, that she had been severely injured during the battle at the southern gate, and the idea that she had been hurt while he'd been _cavorting_ around in Caldhaven went against everything he'd been taught by Impa, and the only thing that had stopped him from beating himself up over it was Link's optimistic insistence that it was just a rumour and that the princess absolutely fine. It had calmed down the worst of his nerves, but the doubt lingered.

But rumours of her injury were not the only thing unsettling him about Zelda's arrival. Sooner or later, he would be forced to reveal the presence of Kafei, and if he knew Zelda right, she would not take kindly to him suddenly appearing like this. She had never been privy to the circumstances around his supposed betrayal—then again, neither had Sheik up until recently, and quite frankly he still wasn't entirely sure if his cousin had spoken the truth. Only Impa could confirm or deny it, and as long as whatever shield was blocking the Sages from contacting them, they would remain in the dark.

There were so many unknown factors in it all, but the one thing he did know was that there would be trouble once the princess and the Sheikah met. He only hoped that he would be around when it happened so that he could calm the potential altercation down. That was why he had practically ordered Kafei to remain in his room with Elenwe until further notice, and pleaded with the rebels not to mention him for now. They had all agreed, and Sheik could only hope that they would remember that if Zelda brought it up—not that she had a reason to, but Sheik always tried to take every possible permutation of an action into account, especially the ones that led to bad outcomes.

He felt a hand touching his lower arm lightly and looked at Link, who gave him a stern look and then a comforting smile, silently telling him to calm down, to which he nodded and tried to make his heart beat slower. He hadn't even noticed how upset he'd been making himself with all the thinking. He flashed the Hero a grateful look and returned to staring at the doors to the main hall.

 _I wonder how she will react to Speil..._ an errant, treacherous thought suddenly said in his head, but he quickly squashed it, deciding that he would try to enjoy the reunion as much as possible before triggering the rage of the princess by informing her of...well, how stupid he'd been, really. That was the only way to explain it all—pure and utter stupidity with a smidgen of stubbornness.

That particular train of thought disappeared, however, when the doors suddenly opened slightly, and Ise's assistant, a young man named Cody (appointed the day before, apparently) came inside, looking like he'd seen a ghost. That was not a good sign, he decided and felt himself tense up.

"Princess Zelda of Hyrule," Cody announced loudly, his voice surprisingly loud and powerful, not matching his physical appearance at all. He then turned around and opened the doors fully, allowing the entire party to come inside. Zelda entered first.

The elation he felt in his chest upon seeing the golden head of his princess, clad in her finest armour, enter the main hall was immediately crushed by the stone that plummeted into his stomach the second he saw that Zelda had indeed been injured—and severely as well, judging by the pronounced limp that forced her to use a cane to balance herself. Even so, she refused to let it slow her down, and it was a speedy and majestic hobble that quickly took her across the room, towards the grand fireplace in front of which they waited.

Right behind her, hanging slightly back, was what Sheik suspected was the reason for Cody's nervousness. A tall, strong-looking female soldier bearing the livery of a Hyrulian elite guard with the most severe gaze Sheik had ever seen on a person kept herself exactly two steps behind the princess, her hand resting on the hilt of her large sword as she surveyed the room closely, clearly scanning it for possible threats. Clearly this was one of Zelda's bodyguards, Sheik decided. He had never seen her before, but judging from her stance, build and the way she carried herself, she would be a mighty warrior indeed. She was clearly Hylian, her pointed ears giving her away, but there was clearly some Gerudo blood flowing in her veins as well, the colour of her skin quite a bit darker than Zelda's. Her eyes landed on Sheik for a brief second before she continued studying everyone in the room, and he nearly shuddered from the intensity that burned in them. This was a formidable woman indeed.

However, his attention was drawn back to Zelda as she stopped moving a respectable distance away from the rebel leadership, resting her hands on the cane and looking at each person in turn. Even in her current state, she was as regal as ever, her expression serious but at the same time conveying an aura of calm and serene peace. She was royalty, but not the kind that inspired fear and trepidation in others, but respect and joy. She was a perfect figurehead, shaped by war and strife, yet overcoming the alluring desires to abuse the power she possessed. He could have sworn that the corners of her mouth moved slightly upwards as she looked at him and Link, but Sheik knew that she would save _that_ particular happiness for when they were alone.

Ise followed her cue, knowing exactly how to act around royalty, having worked on the council under King Robar for years. She bowed, as did Rial and the gathered officers and soldiers. Even Riveth, who would definitely have been excused from such a strenuous action, stood up and inclined her head as deeply as she could, after which she once again sat down.

"Your Majesty, it is an honour to welcome you to Caldhaven and my family's estate," Ise said, giving the princess a dazzling smile. "There are no words that can describe how grateful we are for your assistance and, indeed, timely intervention."

"Lady Ise, I am grateful for the grand welcome," Zelda said, inclining her head and returning the smile. "I simply could not stand by and watch as Lumina came under the control of the tyrant Rehm and his cohorts. Our kingdoms have always been close allies, and I am only happy to come to the aid of those who serve the true King!"

The statement was met with a roar of approval from the soldiers gathered. Sheik found himself suppressing a grin. It was a token statement, but it was one that never failed in these situations. The soldiers probably felt invincible at that moment, knowing their numbers had just been greatly increased, not to mention the rousing idea of knowing that if Rehm fought back any harder than he already did, he would eventually bring the entire military might of Hyrule down upon himself—and not even he would be able to beat back such a tidal wave.

"Please, let me introduce you to the two people responsible for our survival thus far," Ise said, gesturing towards Rial and Riveth. "General Drena Riveth and General Rial Vortan, our brave leaders who have guided us through thick and thin."

 _You only joined the rebellion a few days ago,_ Sheik thought sourly, slightly annoyed by Ise for implying that she had been fighting in the war since day one. _But that's nobles for you..._ He then felt a sting guilt, remembering that he himself was technically a noble now as well. _Lord Sheikah indeed..._

"Generals," Zelda said, stepping forward to shake their hands, surprising everyone, especially Ise. She even prevented Riveth from standing up, placing a firm hand on her shoulder, recognising how sick she was. "A pleasure to meet you both. I wish to extend my personal thanks for taking care of my friends, Earl Sheik and the Hero of Time, Link, who were unfortunate enough to be swallowed up in this ugly business. I can only hope that they have not been too much trouble for you."

The last part was said with a pointed glance in Link and Sheik's direction, and they both felt their faces heat up slightly in embarrassment. Of course the princess could not resist a small tongue-lashing in public. Sheik noticed that her bodyguard could not prevent a small smirk from surfacing, and he instantly felt a certain dislike towards her, and that only made him decide he was going to put her to the test later. It was technically not his place anymore, but he was damn well going to ensure that he thought any new bodyguards of Zelda's was up to the task.

"Your Majesty, it has only been a pleasure to host them," Rial said with sincerity, to which Riveth nodded in agreement. "I will even say that, without their help, this rebellion would have failed quickly. Had it not been for their talents, we would have faced defeat within weeks."

"That gladdens me," Zelda replied, once again glancing at her two friends. "I would hate for it to be otherwise."

"Thank you," Rial said suddenly, bowing again. "Words cannot describe...I..."

Whatever he'd been planning to say never came, and Riveth rolled her eyes and elbowed him in the side. "Think before you...speak to royalty, nephew," she said. "My apologies, Your Majesty."

"Not at all, general," Zelda said with a reassuring pat on Rial's shoulder. "I am happy to be here. The officers of General Mirn's army are entering the city as we speak, and I suppose there is much to discuss regarding the war effort."

"Indeed there is," Ise said, nodding. "However, I have arranged for supper to be served very soon, and I strongly suspect that it has been some time since you have eaten, Your Majesty."

"That would be most welcome, Lady Ise," Zelda said, nodding as well. "Strategy is always best discussed with full stomachs. I hope my men will catered for as well...?"

"Certainly," Ise replied. "The barracks are more than ready to receive them."

"Excellent," Zelda said.

"I have also prepared a room for you, Your Majesty, the most spacious one in the mansion. Perhaps you would like to rest before supper is served? It has been a long and tiring journey."

"It would be quite welcome," Zelda agreed. "However, at the moment I am more concerned with speaking to my two...emissaries before doing so. I hope I am not terrible rude by insisting upon some privacy...?"

Ise shook her head. "Of course not. If you wish, you can use my study."

"Thank you," Zelda said, looking at Link and Sheik. "We have much to...discuss."

For some reason, Sheik suddenly felt very afraid.

His heart hammered wildly in his ribcage as Ise led him, Link, Zelda and Zelda's bodyguard to the study. She unlocked the door and, after a few seconds of exchanging more pleasantries, opened it and left them in the hallway, promising to send someone to inform them of when supper was served. It was the silence that was the worst, Sheik decided as they filed into the study, leaving the bodyguard outside and waited as the door was closed.

"So..." Zelda said, letting her cane lean against Ise's desk. She left the statement hanging, her face completely neutral and stone-like as she stared at both. When neither of the boys replied, she scowled and with surprising speed crossed the room, her arms reaching out for them. They too spread their arms, prepared to embrace her. It was a ruse. Instead of a relieved and comforting hug, the Sheikah and the Hero found one of their ears being twisted by the strong fingers of the princess, wrenching them both to their knees.

"What I have told you two about staying out of trouble?" she demanded, ignoring their pained cries and pleas for mercy. "Did I not specifically tell you to be careful when you left Hyrule? And what's the first thing you do? Get yourselves involved in a ridiculous civil war! It's like you _deliberately_ went against my order!"

"Gah!" Link gasped in pain. "We didn't do—ow—it on purpose!"

"Wrong place at the—grah—at the wrong time, hah!" Sheik added, gritting his teeth at the pain he hadn't felt in years since his training with Impa.

"Hmph," Zelda grunted, letting go of their poor, abused ears and hobbling back to the desk, leaning against it with a huff and crossing her arms. "Why am I not surprised? You've both a tendency to stumble into the most unfortunate of situations...but for Goddesses' sake, this one looked deliberate! And why didn't you leave when things first turned sour? Or when you had an opportunity to?"

"We tried," Link said, rubbing his ear. Zelda had almost been pulling at the ring. "But...it didn't feel right."

"Didn't feel right? Explain," Zelda demanded.

"There was a sense of...moral obligation," Sheik explained. "We had gone so far already...it would have been wrong to leave the rebels alone in their struggle."

Zelda sighed. "Of course. Moral obligation." She uncrossed her arms and rubbed her thigh slightly, grimacing. So that was where she was injured, Sheik realised. "And I suppose I was responsible for your presence here to begin with. I did tell you to represent Hyrule at Robar's court, after all...though had I known what would have happened, I would never have asked you to do it." She shook her head, giving them an apologetic look. "I'm sorry."

"It was no one's fault but Rehm's," Sheik said, stepping forward to comfort her, reaching out a hand. His left hand.

Before he had a chance to pull away, Zelda seized it and pulled him close.

"Oh, Sheiky," she said, her voice trembling slightly as she ran her fingers over the stumps where two of his should have been. "Who did this to you?"

"A man named Angen," Sheik replied, unsure of what to do as the princess examined his hand closely. "But it was necessary—otherwise the infection and blood poisoning would have killed me."

"Does it hurt?"

"Not anymore."

She raised the hand to her mouth and kissed the stumps, and Sheik was shocked to suddenly feel wetness upon his skin. The princess was crying, and her eyes shone with tears as she looked at the both of them, lower lip trembling. "I'm so sorry for getting you involved," she said. "Can you ever forgive me?"

The Hero and the Sheikah acted as one then, both moving forward to pull the princess into a tight hug, resting heads on her shoulders and holding her as close as they possibly could.

"There's nothing to forgive," Link told her gently.

"But—"she tried.

"No," Sheik agreed. "Nothing."

"I was so worried..." she told them, her voice muffled by their clothing. "I thought I was going to lose you both to a conflict I sent you into."

"You didn't know what was happening," Sheik said. "And we were the ones who chose to stay. If anything, we are sorry for involving _you_."

"I had to come," Zelda said, pulling slightly out of the embrace so that she could look at them properly, smiling as Link gently wiped away a tear on her cheek. "Even if you hadn't been here, Hyrule would have been dragged into the war."

"Perhaps, but you would not have to come here personally," Sheik said.

"Maybe not, but still—"

"No but stills," Link told her. "The only thing that matters right now is that you're here, we're here, and we're all okay. So please stop crying—it's not worthy of a princess." He said the last part with a haughty accent common among the Hyrulian nobles, which made both Sheik and Zelda chuckle. "That was you, by the way," he told Sheik, who immediately scowled.

"I do not speak like that," Sheik protested.

"No, you speak like this," Zelda said, doing her best impression of Sheik. "'I do not approve of mirth or joviality, everything should be dark and dreary, much like my wardrobe'."

That one sent the Hero and the princess into hysterical laughter, leaving Sheik glaring at them both with crossed arms, wondering why in the world he considered these two his closest and dearest.

"'And smiling hurts my face, therefore I only do it on special occasions'," Link continued, starting another bout of laughter.

"Are we really doing this?" Sheik asked. "Because I do have some rather cracking observations about you two that will definitely kill the hilarity of mocking me stone dead."

The princess and the Hero glanced at each other, and while they did not burst into laughter this time, they both shared a knowing grin.

"And my wardrobe isn't dark or dreary," Sheik continued, not realising that he was only digging a deeper and deeper hole for himself. "It is traditional Sheikah garb, perfect for the jobs we have been doing for centuries..." he trailed off, registering that his words were falling on deaf ears.

"Oh, Sheik, sometimes you are a living parody of yourself," Zelda told him, affectionately stroking his cheek with the back of her hand. "You haven't changed at all, little brother."

 _Should I have?_ Sheik wondered, suddenly unsure of whether or not he had stagnated completely.

"Don't start thinking about that sentence, please," Link said, gently bopping him in the back of the head to knock him out of the contemplative trance he sometimes fell into. "She meant it in a good way."

"Right, right..."

"So," Zelda said as she sank into a comfortable armchair by the fireplace. "How about you tell me everything?"

"Everything?" Link said.

"Sheik and Kaiza have kept me up to date about current events all the way through the war," Zelda said. "But details have been scarce considering the limited size of the messages he's been able to send. I would like to know everything with all the details you can remember."

"That will be a long story," Sheik said.

"And quite riveting, especially since I will be wanting an explanation as to why you're so thin," the princess sniped, glaring at him. "Haven't you been eating?"

"He has," Link said. "But it's not helping."

"Good grief," Zelda said, rolling her eyes. "I shall have to remedy that as soon as we can get a proper supply chain going. Anyway, sit down and tell me."

"I have a question for you first, though," Sheik said.

"By all means, ask."

"What happened to your leg?" he said, looking at her thigh. He could see that she was clearly wearing bandages under the cloth and plate.

"This?" she asked, looking at it. "Minor mishap during the taking of the southern gate." She paused. "Well, perhaps not _that_ minor. We miscalculated the firing vector of the cannons and...well, it turned out that they were able to hit us at that range after all. I was lucky, to escape with only this. General Mirn, however, was not."

"And the cane?" Link asked.

"I will most likely be using it for the rest of my life," Zelda said, looking at the metallic walking stick. It had been a gift from one of the smiths in the Luminan portion of the army. "Which, unfortunately, makes me rather unfit for battle. I would most likely have died that day, you know? Had it not been for Tira—"

"Tira?" the Hero asked.

"My new bodyguard," Zelda explained. "You have already met her. She is standing outside. Let me introduce you. Tira, please come in!"

The tall, strong woman was inside the study immediately, looking ready to spring into action. Upon seeing that no danger was at hand, however, she relaxed and bowed. "Your Majesty?" she asked.

"I would like you to meet my two dearest friends in the world," Zelda told her. "This is—"

"I already know who they are," Tira said, surprising Sheik with her boldness by interrupting the princess. Zelda paid it no mind, however, so he bit back the scolding he'd prepared. Tira looked first at Link. "The Hero of Time," she said, eyes wide with admiration. "You are responsible for defeating Ganondorf—Hyrule will forever be in your debt." She bowed to him. "A true honour it is to meet you."

Link blushed slightly. "It wasn't all me, I had a lot of help."

She then turned to Sheik, studying him. "And Lord Sheik," she said, "last of your kind. I never thought I would have the chance to see you face-to-face."

"Not to mention the lower half of his face," Zelda muttered, much to Link's delight.

"A pleasure," Sheik said, managing not to shoot hateful glances at his lover. "I am glad that the princess' life lies in such capable hands."

"How do you know I am capable?" Tira asked.

"I can tell just by looking at the way you stand, move and carry yourself. You move with the grace of a skilled warrior, the confidence of a master swordsman and the awareness of an eagle. I have seen the way you study every room, scan every face for signs of trouble. You look for the closest way out in case you need to get the princess to safety. Had you not done these things, I would not trust you to protect her—but I do."

"You have no idea what it means to hear that from a Sheikah," Tira said, surprising Sheik with her sincerity. It was not often he met someone from Hyrule with such an attitude towards his people. "I can only hope I will prove myself worthy of your trust."

"She saved my life at the southern gate," Zelda piped up.

Sheik nodded. "Then you already have, Tira...?" he trailed off, not knowing her last name.

"Siress, my lord," Tira supplied.

"Siress," Sheik said, nodding again. "Thank you. And please don't call me a lord...just Sheik will be fine."

She looked hesitant, but nodded.

As the conversation ended, Sheik noticed that Zelda was looking at her bodyguard with affection, but not the kind usually reserved for friends or protectors. It seemed to run deeper than that, but he could only guess its significance, and he refused to engage in speculation about Zelda's personal business. But still...

 _Interesting,_ he thought.

"Anyway, you two were about to tell me the story of this war," Zelda said, reclining in her chair. "Better get to it if you want to finish before supper."

Sheik exchanged glances with Link, and a silent agreement was made that Sheik would do most of the talking. Thinking back so many months ago, to the point where things had gone so utterly wrong, he began to speak, trying to provide as many facts as he could, while leaving out his and Link's relationship, just in case Tira didn't know about it. It would take him hours to finish the story completely, but Zelda remained alert all the while and listened closely. While he'd been worried about their reunion at first, Sheik quickly found himself at ease and happy to be in the presence of his adopted sister again. It was comforting, and it felt...right. Catching Link smiling at him in the corner of his eye, he finally knew that things might just have a happy ending after all. And so he continued to regale the princess with their story...

* * *

**Soul Remnants**

**Chapter 72**

* * *

Rial chewed his food carefully as he surveyed the faces around the table. There were quite a few newcomers, the most prominent of which being the princess of Hyrule, currently sitting at one end of the table. He'd been uncertain of what to expect from the monarch who spent most of her childhood fighting, but he had not expected the veritable sun that was beaming at everyone from her seat, especially at Sheik and Link, which was to be expected. It was absolutely clear that those three were very close. Perhaps he'd been expecting a princess whose life had revolved around war for so long to be a bit more...severe? Sullen? Serious? Another word that began with an S? But no, Princess Zelda was anything but. Not even what looked to be a painful limp seemed to dampen her spirits.

"Interesting person, isn't she?" Riveth asked, sitting on his right.

"Yeah," he agreed, looking at his aunt. He had to admit, the arrival of Hyrule's princess seemed to have had a bit of a revitalising effect on her. There was more energy in her movements, the spark in her eyes seemed just a tiny bit brighter and her terrible cough seemed to have subsided a little. "Didn't expect her to so...cheerful."

"Cheerful? Downright bubbly, if you ask me," Riveth said, smiling as the princess giggled at something Link had said. It was definitely something about Sheik, judging by the annoyed look the Hero was receiving from the red-eyed youth. "But still commanding, and capable of inspiring loyalty. Just study the way her men look at her. Even Mirn's officers are impressed with her."

"Yes, she's quite something," Rial agreed. "She reminds me of someone..."

"The King?" Riveth asked. "Perhaps...though he is not quite as...hard as her, I imagine."

"Hard?"

Riveth shrugged. "Many positive and good things can be said about Victor, but given everything that has happened and what you have told me about him, I cannot imagine him having half the presence that she does."

"He never had a chance to develop it," Rial protested, keeping his voice down. "He was betrayed right from the start. Had he been given time, I'm sure he could even surpass his father."

"Or perhaps he simply does not have the capability for it," Riveth said, holding up a hand to ward off the angry look her nephew shot her at that moment. "I am not trying to insult him, Rial, I am just saying...well, he sounds like he has a gentle soul, a kind heart. Too kind for the kind of job he is expected to do. I can imagine him being a far better king than his father, but then he would need someone who could advise him, tell him when he needs to put his foot down. Alone, I do not think he would know the right times." She smiled. "If he'd had you at his side, I imagine he could be the best king Lumina would ever have."

"Me?" Rial asked, shaking his head. "No, no, I'm just a soldier."

"Exactly, a soldier who knows when to put the pressure on, knows when a firm hand is needed. You would be the greatest advisor he could get."

"Hmph."

"Don't grunt, I am being serious. If not you, I cannot imagine anyone else. Well, there is one, but..."

"Who?"

"It would not be an advisor role, though." Riveth took a sip of her wine, grimacing as the liquid poured down her sore throat. "They'd make a good match, I imagine."

"Who?" Rial asked again, voice firm.

"Well...the princess," Riveth said, glancing down at the golden-haired Zelda. "Think about it, they are both very similar people, but she could teach him the things he needs to know, such as when and how to take proper command of any given situation. If he had half her charisma, I'm quite sure this rebellion would never have taken place."

"Maybe," Rial said, staring sourly down at his food. It was some sort of steak, but Ise had been deliberately vague about which animal it came from. Supplies were running low even here, apparently. He was annoyed by his aunt's words, but he couldn't help but feel that she was right. Zelda would indeed be good for Victor, and he for her. And it would be right, and proper...and would actually serve a purpose. He couldn't imagine what a united Hyrule and Lumina would be capable of. Certainly more than what Rial wanted...

"Hey, I wasn't saying it's definitely going to happen," Riveth said, bumping his shoulder with hers. "For all we know, she is already engaged to someone else...or at least has someone else in mind." She chuckled. "Hm, didn't expect that."

"What?" he asked, looking up.

"Her bodyguard...she seems to go a bit above and beyond the call of duty," she elaborated, nodding towards the female warrior who had just materialised beside the princess, leaning down and listening to something Zelda was saying. She nodded and replied, their words inaudible from where they were sitting.

"What do you mean?"

"Look at the way they're looking at each other," Riveth said, leaning forward. "There's more to that relationship than princess and bodyguard...heh, reminds me of someone else I know," she said with a pointed look at Rial, who flushed.

"I thought Hyrule frowned on same-sex relationships," he muttered.

"I don't know, I have never studied their culture extensively. If they do, Link and Sheik clearly don't care all that much. Or perhaps their statuses give them some leeway."

"More power to them, then," Rial said. "And the princess." He certainly hoped that there was something that what his aunt was saying. The idea of the princess whisking away Victor before he even had a chance to tell him how he truly felt...it was unbearable.

"You're so cute when you're jealous," Riveth said, grinning.

"I'm not," Rial protested, realising he cut the sentence off at the wrong point. "Jealous, that is. I'm not. Besides, it's too early to think about that particular business. We aren't even close to taking back Lumina yet, so all speculation about it is irrelevant."

"Whatever you say, nephew," Riveth replied, turning her attention back to her meal. "I'm just saying that if you intend to...er...plunder the King's treasure chamber, I suggest you do it immediately after rescuing him, or you might lose your chance."

He was certain his blush could be seen from the moon.

"I have been informed that you are currently in possession of an airship, General Vortan," the princess suddenly said, and he looked up to find her staring directly at him. "Is this true?"

"Er, yes, Your Majesty," he replied, trying to will the burning in his cheeks away. "It is currently on patrol but should return tomorrow morning."

"I would very much like to see it," Zelda said, looking excited. "I could never imagine such a thing existing, at least not without the aid of magic. Would it be too much trouble to request some sort of tour...?"

"Of course not, Your Majesty," Rial said. "I will make the arrangements as soon as they return."

"Thank you, general," she said. "As I understand it, it will turn the tide of the war."

"It will certainly be a big help," he replied. "Hopefully, we will never even need to use it, only threaten the enemy into surrendering with it."

"A most commendable tactic. The less bloodshed, the better."

"Our thoughts exactly."

"Also, if it is not too much to ask at the table, I was wondering what your further plans for the war are."

"Pardon?"

She smiled and put her utensils down. "Well, at the moment it seems that the rebels have all the advantages. You have the airship, you control the southern gate and you have just received a great deal of reinforcements. I was simply wondering what your intend to do now."

"Is that my decision?" Rial asked, surprised. He'd been sure that the princess was running the show now. But it seemed she had different plans, and now every eye in the room was on him.

"Of course it is," Zelda said, looking confused. "You are the general, aren't you? High commander of the rebellion?"

"Y-yes, but I expected that someone else would take command once the reinforcements arrived. Mirn was going to, but..."

"He fell at the southern gate," Zelda finished. "Did you expect _me_ to take control? I would not dream of it, general. I am certain that my assistance and resources are welcome here, but I highly doubt that the people of Lumina would appreciate a foreigner marching in and basically taking over everything." She laughed. "No, I am merely here to offer my help. I'll gladly offer any counsel if you wish it, or I will simply commit my men. This is your war, general, and you have the last word."

"I...er...thank you, Your Majesty," he said, bowing his head in gratitude, not sure how else to react. He'd been expecting a lot less responsibility once the princess arrived, but now it seemed like he was going to get even more of it. The rational part of his mind told him that this was a terrible thing, too much at once. But another, traitorous part of his mind told him that this was a good thing, this was what he wanted. He wanted to be in command once they retook Lumina City, when they rescued Victor from Rehm's clutches... He banished those thoughts immediately. Hubris was not a good thing. "I will gladly have your counsel-your experience with warfare vastly outweighs mine."

"And you shall have it," Zelda replied. "And your plans?"

He thought for a few seconds. "Well, my plans are not fully formed just yet, but I imagine that with our newfound strength, supply chain and weapon we will finally be able to march on the capital. With any luck, the remnants of the Royal Army will surrender once they see the strength of our forces, and Rehm will come quietly." He realised how ridiculous it sounded. "But that is the idealised scenario, of course. There will probably be several more skirmishes before we reach the gates, and most likely a prolonged siege."

"But they will break sooner or later," Riveth added. "Rehm cannot hope to stand against us now."

"With any luck, the war will be over in a couple of weeks," Rial finished. "At worst, a few months."

Zelda was satisfied with that answer and nodded, returning to converse with her friends. Rial sighed in relief. He hadn't realised how stressful it was to be put on the spot like that by royalty. Riveth grinned at him but didn't say anything.

He'd learned something from the conversation, though: he had absolutely no idea what he was doing. He'd been so hung up on Zelda's arrival that he had so far neglected to lay any plans for the immediate future. Could they just march towards the capital? Did they actually have the numbers? He was still waiting for a count, but based on early projections...perhaps? With _The Chimera_ at their back, any open battle would be decided in a matter of minutes, or so he could imagine. But taking the capital? They would need a lot of equipment they didn't currently have, such as siege towers and ladders. On the other hand, the airship could simply ferry men into the city...but that would leave them vulnerable immediately, there could only be a limited number of soldiers in the cargo hold.

He didn't notice that he was letting his eyes wander the room as he thought until they landed on Ise, which put a stop to any sort of coherency and consistency to them. The memory of the night she had kissed slammed back into his mind, crushing everything else.

He hadn't expected her to do that at all. Granted, he was not particularly good at picking up subtle queues and hints from people, especially regarding romance and such, but Ise was apparently even worse at _giving_ them. He also learned that night that he did not deal with surprises of that nature very well, because instead of calmly and carefully pushing her away and explaining that he was in no way interested in her and that kissing her would be a betrayal to the person he _was_ interested in, he had hurriedly disengaged from the Patrician, babbled some incoherent words at her which not even he himself understood and run away from her study like a coward. He had then avoided her for the next couple of days, feeling like an idiot and being absolutely sure she thought him one as well.

And all the while he had been wracked with guilt, and not just towards Victor but _her_ as well. From what he could tell about Ise, she was not very used to putting herself out there like that, and she too had seemed quite embarrassed by the whole ordeal. So no matter what he did, he was the bad guy here, and he couldn't figure out any way to actually fix things because he strongly suspected he would lose his ability to speak the second he was left alone with her.

Ise suddenly noticed that he was looking at her, and she gave him the tiniest of smiles, looking just as embarrassed as he felt. He returned it, not knowing what else to do.

Riveth looked between them, raising an eyebrow. "What'd I miss?" she asked.

"Nothing," Rial replied, focusing on his food.

He did not look up again for the rest of that meal.

* * *

Later that evening, Sheik and Zelda were walking the halls of Ise's estate, just talking. Link had, as per usual, had a bit too much during dinner and had promptly fallen asleep upon returning to their room, leaving Sheik and the princess alone. Tira had been given the night off and was currently somewhere in the city, attending to some business she had refused to elaborate on. The halls were almost completely deserted save for the occasional passing servant and patrolling guard. Their footsteps echoed in some of the larger rooms, which were just as sparsely decorated as the rest of the estate. Only the bedchambers seemed to have been spared the Spartan lifestyle Ise seemed to prefer. They were currently walking through what appeared to be an atrium of sorts. A gigantic glass window was letting the pale moonlight into the room, dousing a sitting group in the beautiful luminescence.

"...And that was it, really," Sheik finished. "He told us to go, and we did. He saved our lives at the cost of his own."

"I'm sorry, Sheik," Zelda said, touching his arm. "He sounds like a good man."

"He was," Sheik agreed. "And I like to think that he finally got some closure to everything...I only feel bad for Lor-he truly loved Jeryd."

"At least he has friends here that don't take advantage of him," Zelda said. "And this Ard boy...I imagine he is happy to have someone to bond with after the loss of his brother."

"Yeah," Sheik paused, noticing that a small grimace crossed her face for every step she took. "Are you all right?" he asked.

"Oh, yes, I'm fine, I'm fine," she said, batting his concerned hand away. "Just a little ache, that is all. I might as well get used to it, I will be feeling it for the rest of my life, apparently."

"No reason to over-exert yourself," Sheik said firmly and carefully led her over to the chairs bathed in the moonlight, making her sit down. "Would you like me to fetch you something? Painkillers, medicine?"

"No, I'm fine, Sheik," she said, once again slapping his hands away and practically pushing him into the chair opposite hers, knowing that he would remain standing unless she did so. She'd noticed it right away when they had finally been reunited. He was falling back into the old patterns of Sheikah servitude that she'd been working so hard to make him abandon. He was acting a bit different, yes, but the subservient attitude was returning with full force the more time he was spending with her, and that was the last thing she wanted. "There's no need to be concerned about me. Besides, it was my own damned fault I got hurt in the first place."

"But-"

"No buts," she said, shaking her head. "I am fine, and do not require anything but the comforting presence of my little brother whom I love dearly."

He blushed at that, but nodded. She smiled and leaned back in her seat, gazing through the window. "The moon looks so beautiful here," she said. "History has forgotten why Lumina got its name, but I reckon it is because of this light. I have never seen anything like it."

"It's quite breath-taking," Sheik said, nodding.

They enjoyed the view of the moon in silence for several moments, taking comfort in each other's presence. She had missed this, just being with Sheik like this. They'd had so many of those moments together before and during the war, and she'd never realised how important they were to her until Sheik and Link had left Hyrule with her blessing. It wasn't even a blessing; really, she had practically forced them to leave. It had been for their own good, though, she knew. They needed time together alone. She just wished they had picked somewhere else to go, and she definitely wished she hadn't forced them to go to the festival where King Robar had been murdered. Speaking of which...

"What aren't you telling me, Sheik?" she asked, causing the younger to look at her with confusion, blinking his eyes in that adorably confused way she remembered. Only one of those eyes was actually functional, but she was glad that he hadn't lost it entirely. They truly were beautiful...

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"I am not stupid, Sheik," she told him. "I noticed that there was a lot of information you left out of the story you told me in the study. You never elaborated on the woman who helped Link escape from Urne, though you did see fit to remember her name. And the assassination of King Robar...you said that you did not know who was responsible, but that the poison used was an ancient Sheikah one and that was the reason you were imprisoned. As far as I know, the Sheikah _refused_ to sell their weapons and secret recipes, so there is no way an outsider could have procured it, and I'm quite certain I did not order you to kill him, so..."

She could already feel her annoyance mounting as Sheik went through the motions and body language that told her that he had been lying to her. But it wasn't the actual lying that upset her. No, it was that he was lying to protect the only person who could have been involved, and she couldn't for the life of her understand why.

"You're...right," he finally admitted. "There is something I haven't told you. I do indeed know who the assassin is."

"Who?"

"You have to understand, though, that even after everything that happened, there are extenuating circumstances-"

"Who is it, Sheik?" she asked firmly, making it clear that she was not interested in explanations.

It took several seconds before he answered, needing to muster up the courage to do so, which surprised her greatly. Surely Sheik did not think _that_ highly of him?

"The person responsible for King Robar's assassination was...Kafei."

She nodded, satisfied at finally having her suspicion confirmed. It was the only option, of course, but she had wanted to hear it from Sheik himself. It disappointed her. Not only had the traitor sparked the war that was engulfing Lumina, but he'd also managed to get Sheik—someone he'd nearly killed—to cover for him. She could only imagine the disgusting lies he had been telling him all along! And yet, she couldn't blame Sheik either. Kafei was his only remaining family, and she supposed that blood was thicker than...well, it was clearly thicker than whatever had been spilled from Sheik that night.

"Why?" she asked.

"I...I don't know," Sheik said, bowing his head in apology. "He told me everything that has happened...ever since that night...and I was so determined to hate him, but his story...it's so sad, and I cannot help but feel that I—and you—have got the circumstances of his leaving incorrect."

"In what way?"

He told her about everything Kafei had said, from the night he left Hyrule up until now. To her credit, Zelda remained silent even during the parts she found dubious at best, though she was not surprised that Sheik believed him. And if everything about him saving Link and Sheik multiple times was true, then her image of the traitorous Sheikah became somewhat better. The past of the story that would redeem him, however, remained a mystery.

"Unfortunately, there is no way to know until I have spoken with Impa," Sheik admitted. "And for some reason, Link and I find ourselves unable to contact the Sages. It has been that way ever since we came to Lumina."

"I have the same problem," Zelda confirmed. "There appears to be a veil very similar to the one Ganondorf cast over Hyrule seven years ago covering Lumina, though it is much weaker and only seems to block the use of far-reaching magic. I myself have not spoken with the Sages ever since we crossed the border." She decided not to tell Sheik about the disturbing conversation she'd had with Rauru about the silence of the Goddesses. They were dealing with enough trouble already. "Impa sends her greetings, as do the other Sages." She stood up suddenly, reaching for her cane. "Where is Kafei? Is he here?"

Sheik nodded.

"Take me to him."

"I do not think that is a good—"

"Sheik, I am not asking you as a friend right now," she told him, hating to use his attitude against him, but this could not wait. "I am ordering you as your princess. Take me to Kafei immediately."

"Yes, Princess," he said, standing up and heading in the direction of the stairs, making sure that she was able to keep up. He did not speak the entire time he led her towards the guest bedchambers that Kafei apparently occupied, looking cowed. It filled her with more guilt, but some things needed to be done before she could apologise. He stopped outside a door, pointing. "He is in here." He made to knock, but Zelda stopped him, electing to simply open the door without announcing herself.

But Kafei was a Sheikah, and he had clearly heard their approach. He was standing just beyond the door, dagger at the ready just in case the newcomers were hostile. He clearly hadn't expected the person barging into his chambers to be Zelda, however, judging by his wide-eyed expression. She gave him no chance to react before slamming the door shut behind her, not even letting Sheik inside. There could be no mediator.

"Princess—"Kafei began, but she pushed past him and walked into the main room of the chambers, noticing the abundant amount of weaponry lying around. In hindsight, barging into the chambers of a person who was a notorious traitor without anything with which to defend herself but a metal cane was perhaps not the cleverest thing she had ever done, but she was so angry right now that she didn't care.

"You just couldn't stay away, could you?" she asked as he came closer. "You couldn't wait, you had to finish the job."

"What?" he asked, his eyes wide. At the same time, he was making hushing motions with his hands, but she would have none of it.

"It's bad enough nearly killing Sheik when you leave, but then you frame him for assassinating King Robar? That is low, even for you. He's your damn cousin!" Seeing him looking panicked, with all those scars on his face nearly gave her a bit of pleasure. It would certainly be poetic justice. Sheik had nearly died, but he'd given Kafei some permanent marks.

"I didn't do that on purpose," Kafei hissed, still trying to get Zelda to quiet down. "If you'll let me explain—"

"Oh, Sheik has already told me the whole story, but here's the thing," she said, purposefully raising her voice while jabbing him in the chest, not noticing that he was making no attempts to stop her from doing it. That should have told her that something was going on. "I don't know how you managed to fool him with it, but I won't believe a word of it until I've actually heard Impa confirm it." She stepped closer. "Now listen here, you—"

A feminine groan from the bed at the other end of the room interrupted her. Both their heads snapped to look at the raised platform on which it stood. The sheets were moving, and a face was poking out from the small tower of pillows. Their features were barely visible in the weak light from the oil lamps in the first part section of the chambers, but Zelda could immediately tell it was a woman.

"Kafei?" she asked, her voice still heavy with sleep. "What's going on?" She stretched, and Zelda saw that she was missing an arm, and her hand on the other was covered in bandages. The pieces of the puzzle were slowly assembled in her head, and it finally snapped into place.

"No one, go back to sleep," Kafei told the woman, who Zelda could only assume was Elenwe from Sheik's story. The same Elenwe who'd gotten so horrifically injured during their mission.

Thinking quickly, she grabbed the front of Kafei's shirt and dragged him towards the door, hoping that the small alcove would shield them from view. From what Sheik had told her about Elenwe, she didn't mind her at all, especially not since she had saved Link from Marlotta. Her choice in company, however...

"Now you listen here," she whispered harshly at Kafei. "Until I've spoken with Impa, you will stay away from Sheik. Is that understood?"

"What, why—"

" _You will stay the hell away from him_ , is that clear?!" she hissed. "If I catch you anywhere near him, I will not stop until your head is on a pike!"

The Sheikah looked ready to argue, but a plaintive call for him from Elenwe seemed to change his mind, and he nodded quietly, reaching for the door handle and opening it for her.

"Get out," he said, glaring at her.

"With pleasure," she replied and left.

Sheik was leaning against the wall opposite of the door, looking worried. He straightened up when she came into the hall and walked as quickly away from Kafei's room as she could, which was not as fast as she'd hoped—the damnable cane kept slowing her down. Sheik looked torn between going after her and checking in on Kafei, but duty won out and he caught up with her at the staircase.

"What happened?" he asked.

She made herself calm down before replying. "I just cleared something up with your cousin," she said. "And I have an order for you," she added, knowing that it was terrible of her to do so, but it really was in his best interest.

"What?" Sheik asked.

"Until further notice, I forbid you from going near him," Zelda said firmly. "You are not to see or speak to Kafei until I have spoken with Impa and gotten some things cleared up."

"You can't expect me to—"

"Actually, I do, and you will," she told him. "Good night, Sheik."

She left him there, standing on the landing and gaping after her, probably wondering what had just happened. Once again the ugly face of guilt leered at her from the back of her mind, but she ignored it. It was for his own good that she had done this, and feeling a little bad for it was more than worth it. She marched to her bedchambers and did not allow herself to let out the tension she'd been feeling until the door was closed behind her, sighing.

"Princess?" Tira asked, startling her.

"What are you doing here? I thought you'd be out in the city tonight," Zelda asked, trying to calm herself down.

"I was, but I returned early because...well, I could not find what I was looking for," Tira said, straightening up the sheets of the bed. She was wearing casual clothing, though the Triforce crest was still displayed proudly on her chest. Even without her armour she was a magnificent sight to Zelda.

"Ah, well, that is a pity," Zelda said, still leaning against the door, here eyes wide.

Tira narrowed her eyes. "Is something the matter?"

Figuring that Tira was the one person she could actually talk to at the moment, she slowly nodded. "I did something bad..."

* * *

**Soul Remnants**

**Chapter 73**

* * *

Link's jaw cracked as he yawned widely, stretching himself fully out in the large bed. The morning sun rudely shining directly into his eyes had awaked him. Not that he minded, he was feeling fully rested and for once there was nothing to worry about. Zelda had made it safely to Caldhaven, she hadn't been angry (at least not very) and the dinner had been quite a success. Everything was as near to perfect as it could get, and the only thing left to do on a morning such as this was to snuggle closely with the object of his...

His arm, which had been searching for the warm body that would be Sheik found nothing. In fact, the entire left side of the bed was freezing cold. He groaned and opened his eyes, squinting because of the sunlight. Instead of sleeping soundly next to him, like he was supposed to, Sheik was standing in front of the window, staring through it with his arms crossed. He looked tense. That was not unusual to Link. Sometimes he could swear that Sheik wouldn't be able to exist unless he had something to worry and be tense about, but given everything that had happened the day before it didn't make sense for him to be like it _now_.

Sheik turned, looking at him.

"Did I wake you? I apologise."

"No, you didn't," Link said, rubbing his eyes and sitting up and leaning against the headboard, trying to work out the kinks in his neck. "The sun did."

"Ah," Sheik said and returned to staring out the window. That was nothing new. Sheik never said much in the morning. And if he did, it was usually something very relevant to any task at hand.

Link studied his form as he continued lying in bed, not really wanting to move for a while. He especially did not wish to brave the cold of their chambers. The fire had gone out during the night and it was bound to be really cold on the outside of the duvet.

"Did you sleep at all?" the Hero asked, closely observing his lover as he shifted his weight from one leg to the other, his shoulders raised so high they were nearly touching his ears. This was not the usual kind of worried tension that got his boyfriend through the day, Link decided. No, this was the kind of annoyed tension that only seemed to come out whenever Sheik was greatly vexed about something. That was when saying the wrong thing would most likely be a death sentence, because the Sheikah would be so tightly wound up that one could compare him to a lyre string.

"No," Sheik replied.

"Why not?"

"Did not feel like it."

Link shut his mouth then, biting his lip to stop himself from speaking further. Doing so would most likely have gotten his head bitten off. The Hero was no stranger to playful biting in the night, but he sort of wanted to stay alive for the moment. Now was not the time for any intense questioning. No, it was time for playing the waiting game. Sheik had always been an introvert, but the time they'd been together had done wonders for that particular part of his personality and he usually breached whatever subject he was upset about given enough time. Well, most of the time, anyway.

He waited for a while, still carefully watching his lover as he began to pace back and forth in front of the window. Link wondered how many times he'd been doing that in the night...or even when he'd gotten back in the first place. He'd barely registered Sheik leaving their chambers right before sleep had claimed him the night before, but that was about it. He'd slept like a log since then.

"Aren't you going to ask?"

The question surprised him, and he blinked, mouth flapping open like a fish on land for a few seconds before his brain finally caught up with the situation.

"Ask? About what?"

"About what has me so upset?"

Link had to hide a grin. Sheik looked positively _insulted_ that the Hero hadn't begun a third-degree interrogation of him by now. It was an amusing change of pace, not to mention absolutely adorable. _No one_ could look miffed like Sheik could. But then he realised just how seriously angry Sheik was in order for him to practically demand that Link ask him questions about it. So he wiped the grin off and sat up straight, looking at Sheik and trying to ignore the dazzling sight that was his lover bathed in the shimmering light of the morning sun. It was quite difficult.

"What happened, Sheik?" he asked.

"Zelda found out about Kafei," Sheik said immediately, pacing faster.

"What? How?"

"I told her."

Link wanted to bury his face in his hands. "I thought we specifically agreed not to tell her about him until we judged the time was right—and that the right time was when we'd put a few hundred miles between them?"

"She already had a suspicion," Sheik replied, stopping and leaning against the frame of the window. He looked ready to start biting his nails. "She knew I was leaving out of the details of the story. It would only have been a matter of time before she figured it out for herself—and I dare not imagine how she would have reacted then."

"How did she react now, then?" Link asked.

"...badly," he said, sighing. "She immediately demanded that I take her to him, after which she went inside and...there was an argument, of sorts. I couldn't hear what they were saying, but when she came back out she looked absolutely livid. She ordered me to stay away from him."

Link shook his head. "I don't know, maybe she just doesn't want you to get hurt—"

"She _ordered_ me, Link," Sheik interrupted him. "After everything we've been through, everything she's said and even after releasing me from my oath...she still ordered me."

"And you obeyed?"

"Of course I did," he spat. "I'm a Sheikah, aren't I? That's all I'm good for, following instructions."

Link paused. Surely that was not what Zelda had intended with it all? He could not for the life of him imagine Zelda—their best friend—to do something out of maliciousness, especially not something like this. No, the princess had probably just acted rashly and desperately...but why?

"Does she know about everything Kafei has done to rectify it all?" he asked. "Did you tell her that he and Elenwe saved my life?"

"I did, but she didn't believe me," Sheik answered. "It was like she didn't care."

"Or maybe," Link suggested as he slid out of the bed, ignoring the chill of their chambers and walking closer to Sheik. "Maybe she's so worried about him lying to us that she doesn't to take any chances? Think about it, Sheik; since when has Zelda ever tried to hurt us purposefully? Can you even imagine her doing something like this without a good reason?"

"I don't know," Sheik said, staring at the floor, fists clenched. "I...I suppose she's so intent on believing Impa's story that she doesn't want to hear any other..."

"All she knows Kafei as is a traitor," Link added. "Why would she believe a story you heard from him when the last memory she had involving him was you, bleeding on the ground after he stabbed you, accidentally or not?"

"But, the order—"

"I don't think she ordered you in your role as a Sheikah," Link continued, moving so close that he was standing right in front of Sheik, making sure that he maintained eye contact. "I think she ordered you as a concerned friend...as a sister." Sheik responded by lowering his gaze to the floor again.

"But what if—"

"Since when did you start dealing in uncertainties?" Link asked, reaching out to touch his chin, gently lifting it so that he was staring into the rubies of his lover. "I thought you only dealt in absolutes, that speculation only served as a distraction."

"But—"

"No buts," Link said, placing a firm kiss on his lips. "If you want, I can talk to her, clear things up." He kissed him again, deeper this time and pulling the Sheikah into his arms, realising with a shiver that Sheik was much colder than he was at the moment, despite the fact that he was wearing clothes. "In fact, I'm going to do it anyway," he told Sheik after breaking the kiss.

"I'll come with—"Sheik began, slightly out of breath.

"No, you stay here and get some sleep," the Hero said firmly, pulling the drapes so that they cast the room into darkness. "It's still early, I bet there's at least an hour or two until breakfast. And don't you dare try to follow me."

With that he turned around, searched for his clothes and put them on. Then he headed for the door, waiting until he was certain that Sheik had crawled under the covers and was unlikely to get out again. When the Sheikah let out the loudest yawn he'd ever heard him make before, Link smiled and closed the door. He walked through the halls, quite pleased with his ability to defuse his lover with just a few words and a pair of kisses. It meant that he was learning how to deal with Sheik more effectively, which could only be a good thing. He ignored the possibility that Sheik had let himself be defeated so easily because of his lack of sleep—that would only be depressing.

He turned a corner and spotted the double doors leading to Zelda's guest chambers. It would be difficult to miss it, as it was the only door guarded by the very intimidating form of Tira Siress. She spotted him and acknowledged his presence with a firm nod, and he noticed as he came closer that she was quite a bit taller than him. His head only came up to her jaw. If it came to blows, he was not sure if he would be able to beat her with strength alone...or even technique, though he had yet to see her in action. The fact that Zelda had chosen her as her bodyguard could only mean that she definitely knew how to wield that sword of hers, however. He was glad she was on their side—otherwise he would have been very nervous about going up against her.

"Hero," she greeted him, looking unsure about something. "Is that what I am supposed to call you? I apologise, I did not imagine I would ever meet you, and—"

"'Hero' is fine," Link said, smiling at her. "Though I prefer 'Link'. And am I supposed to call you by your first name, or...?"

"Just 'Tira' will do, H...Link," she replied, smiling back. "Can I help you?"

"I'd like to speak with Zelda," he said. "Is she awake?"

"She is. Let me see if she will take visitors."

Link nodded and watched as Tira knocked on the door and went inside the chambers. There was a muffled conversation, after which the bodyguard returned, beckoning him inside. He thanked her as he passed and waited until he was back outside before venturing further into Zelda's room. It looked very similar to his and Sheik's, though far larger. He had an inkling that this was actually Ise's room, hastily cleared out for the royal visitor few days before Zelda's arrival. He found the princess standing behind a screen, evidently getting changed. His eyes immediately found the floor and its checker-patterned tiles very interesting.

"Good morning, Link," Zelda said, giggling at his shyness. "It's quite all right to look at me, you know. I'm not naked."

"I like this floor," Link said, pretending not to have heard her. "A lot of love went into these tiles. You should get the mason to do the new castle."

"Oh, you boys and your bashfulness," the princess chided playfully. "I thought all heroes were _supposed_ to peek when they have a chance. They do in all the old stories. But then again, I suppose in those stories it was always the hero and the princess who fell in love, not the hero and the princess' bodyguard. I bet you'd peek if it were Sheik standing behind here. But I suppose you wouldn't stop at peeking if that were the case."

"I wonder what kind of stone this is."

The princess giggled again and did not speak for a while, the only thing that could be heard being the sounds of fabric sliding against fabric. Then the telltale tapping of Zelda's cane could be heard, and the princess cleared her throat, prompting the Hero to look back up and find Zelda standing a few feet away from him, wearing a deep purple dressing gown.

"Oh, Link," She said, grinning. "You're too cute for words when you're blushing."

"Am not," Link protested.

"You can argue all you like but it will not change the truth," she said, shaking her head. She opened a large chest at the foot of her bed and began rummaging through it. "You'd think that as a princess I would never run out of clothes to wear, but I fear I packed with a far more martial state of mind than I thought. I can only find different bits of armour and leather trousers, never anything that will look remotely acceptable while I am staying in the estate of a Patrician." She said the word Patrician with disdain in her voice.

"You don't like her?" Link asked.

"I don't mind her as a person, she's an absolutely lovely woman. Polite and all that," Zelda said, sighing as she found a helmet she apparently couldn't even remember having packed. "She has a serious problem with organising her priorities in any sort of sane manner, however. She seems far more interested in entertaining me at the moment rather than making any progress towards winning the war. If she had been concentrating on consolidating her position and fortifying Caldhaven in a way that made sense, then perhaps I could have accepted it, but she has barely even done that."

"Maybe she's not used to war and is unsure of what to do?" Link suggested. "I mean, I'd hardly know what to do if I were suddenly expected to govern a city during war."

"That is definitely the possibility I prefer, because that means it can be corrected," she said, evidently giving up on finding anything elegant and elected for a simple outfit consisting of a shirt and trousers that could easily be worn underneath armour if it would become necessary. "If it's any of the other reasons I can imagine, however, I fear that she will be practically useless in the coming weeks."

"That's harsh."

"War requires one to be harsh," she reminded him. "I learned that during the Seven-Year War."

"I suppose," Link said, shrugging. "But did you have to be that harsh with Sheik last night?"

She paused as she reached for her cane, carrying the bundle of clothes under her arm. "He told you, did he?"

"Kinda, yeah," Link said. "Didn't have to wring it out of him either, for once. He practically demanded that I listen to him."

"I was afraid that he'd take it that way," she said, looking disappointed.

"Hard not to. I mean, you _ordered_ him."

"I was not thinking straight at that moment." She began to head for the screen again, but one of the garments slipped from her grip and she muttered a curse. Link picked it up and took the other clothes from her as well, nodding towards the screen. She smiled gratefully and disappeared behind it. Link turned his back to the screen and handed the clothes to her as she asked for them. "I was so upset."

"About Kafei?"

"Yes." She hesitated. "You have to understand, Link, that the only thing I can remember about Kafei is that he and I hated each other from day one, and that the last thing he did before leaving was to critically wound the boy I considered a little brother. It did not help that Impa told me that my suspicions were true and practically encouraged me to declare him a traitor and an outlaw. I mean, what was I supposed to believe other than what the Sheikah clan's leader told me about him? Impa was the person I trusted more than Sheik, and if I could not believe her, then who could I? And then I come here and learn that he has, essentially, been the spark that set off the fires of war in Lumina, not to mention that he dragged the two of you into it as well. The story is not leaning in his favour so far. And before you say it, yes, I am aware that he has been invaluable in keeping you alive, but despite that I cannot forgive him or even trust him until Impa can tell me, once and for all, whether or not she actually told him to leave."

She hesitated again.

"And I didn't order Sheik in my role as his princess or in his role as my Sheikah protector—which he no longer is, I might add. I ordered him as a concerned friend and a loving sister...though I realise now that it was not particularly clear in my wording." She emerged from behind the screen and tapped Link on the shoulder, letting him know that it was okay to stop studying the tiles again. "Can you tell him that?"

"You can tell him yourself," Link said, smiling at her. "You're taking the tour of the airship today, right? I'm sure he'll come along."

"I suppose so...I only hope that he doesn't hate me."

"He never could," he assured her. "He was just...surprised, I think. And we both know he doesn't handle surprises well."

"Yes, I suppose I sprang it on him rather abruptly, and, as you say, he does not like it when something catches him off-guard. He never has. I think it has something to do with his constant need to know everything about every situation." She went back to the chest and pulled out a tabard bearing the Triforce, pulling it over the shirt and fastening it. It was strange how something as little as that could immediately make her appear more regal. "I should go and talk to him right away."

"He's sleeping right now," Link said. "He went the whole night without closing his eyes for a second. He needs it."

"Ah..." she said, looking surprised. "It rattled him that badly? Oh, Goddesses, what have I done?" She sat on the bed, ignoring the sound of the cane hitting the floor loudly, looking down at her lap.

"Hey, it's okay, he'll be fine," Link said and sat beside her. "Like I said, a few hours of sleep, some food and he'll be absolutely fine. Trust me."

"Funny how hearing those words never actually causes any trust to arise," she said bitterly, but nodded all the same. "Okay, I will defer to your judgement on this. Can't imagine anyone would know better, I've certainly shown that I don't."

"Stop it," he told her firmly. "Don't beat yourself up over this. I'm sure you two have had worse arguments than this."

"Probably, but they always ended with Impa interfering before we could reach this particular stage. Thank you, though."

"Anytime," the Hero said and stood up. He picked up the princess' cane and rested it against the chest next to its owner and headed for the door. "When's the tour?" he asked just before reaching it.

"Eleven, I think," she replied. "I'm not sure, the general told me it would depend on how long the refuelling process would take."

"Right, we'll be there."

He exchanged a nod with Tira as he left and headed in the direction of his and Sheik's room. On the way he was surprised at how little activity there was in the estate, even at this hour. The only people actively roaming the halls were the servants and the guards, but there were no signs of the many officers and nobles occupying the other guest rooms.

Did everyone decide to take a day off, or something? Link wondered.

He definitely wished they had once he rounded a corner and saw Sir Iteos studying a large painting on the wall. It was one of the few pieces of art that Ise displayed in the halls and depicted Caldhaven perhaps a century or so ago. It looked quite different, and much smaller, though the estate remained the same. Link clenched his jaw and moved as silently and quickly as he could, hoping that he'd be able to move past Iteos before he—

"Well, well, well, if it isn't my favourite playmate," the knight said, whirling around and grinning. "How are you on this beautiful morning?"

"Fine, thank you," Link said without breaking his stride.

"Hey, now," Iteos said, walking quickly after him. "That's a cold way to greet someone you know so...intimately."

The Hero shuddered at the way he said the last part, but did not deign to slow down.

"What, are you _still_ angry about the bet?" Iteos asked, falling into step beside Link. "Surely not? It's all ancient history by now."

"I suppose it would be to you," Link said. "I'm surprised you can even remember it. I imagine you've slept with half of Caldhaven by now."

"Approximately, yes," the knight said shamelessly. "Though our night together was quite something, and definitely one for the books. Have you spoken to the Patrician's new assistant? What a cutie, eh? I wonder how quickly I can have him worshipping my magnificent—"

"What do you want?" Link interrupted him, stopping abruptly and glaring at him. They had already passed Link and Sheik's room. Link had done so on purpose. He did _not_ want Iteos to know where they slept.

"I merely wanted to reminisce," Iteos replied, still grinning. "Like I said, that night was quite memorable and I was hoping we could perhaps discuss it? Compare notes, as it were? Did I push buttons that your little Sheikah hasn't? Perhaps we could even do it again; I'm always up for some fun."

Link grimaced. "You're disgusting."

"Guilty as charged," the knight freely admitted, looking impossibly smug about it, as if it were a badge of honour. "But only in the way that I don't deny myself anything I want and that I'm always up for new experiences. You should lose some of that morality of yours, maybe you could learn to have as much fun as I."

"I'd rather kiss a ReDead," the Hero shot back.

"A what?"

"Eugh, never mind," Link scoffed, walking away.

"There was one other thing," the knight said, causing him to stop and turn around with exasperation.

"What?"

"I've been thinking about it, and I've come to a decision regarding our bet." He paused, waiting to see if Link was going to make a comment. When none was forthcoming, he continued, his eyes taking on a predatory look. "I've decided that I'm not going to keep my promise. As of right now, you and your precious little toy, are back in season. And believe you me, I _will_ have you both."

Link was unsure of how to react. He settled on chuckling and walking away, saying, "Yeah, good luck with that." The knight thanked him unironically and went in the opposite direction. Once he was sure that Iteos was gone, Link went back to their room, wondering how Sheik would react to this piece of news. It would have to wait for later, however. The only thing he heard upon entering the darkened chamber was the gentle sound of Sheik's snoring from the bed. It nearly caused Link to laugh, knowing how stubbornly his lover refused to believe he did something so undignified. He quickly and silently undressed and crawled back into the bed, intending to spend as much time as he possibly could holding the slumbering Sheikah. It did not take long for him to fall asleep again as well.

* * *

"Hm, the princess has good taste."

Tira turned her head to look at the annoying little man who had been watching her for the past ten minutes from a distance, trying to catch her attention without initiating contact himself. The strategy had failed, but it did nothing to stave him off, apparently. Unfortunately. "Pardon?" she asked, finally deciding to get the matter over and done with so he could piss off and let her get on with her job.

"Not only has she picked a capable warrior to protect her, but one who is as beautiful as the desert lands from which she came," he said smoothly, moving closer. She found her eyes drawn to the ridiculous rose emblem on his arm, wondering who would be so ridiculous as to fight under such a banner. "May I have your name, my dark beauty?" he asked.

"Tira Siress," she told him. "And I am _not_ your dark beauty."

"I like it when they are feisty," the man replied, grinning lecherously. "Makes it all the more fun when I have you writhing and moaning beneath me."

Rolling her eyes, Tira looked back at the opposite wall, ignoring him. She had dealt with people like him before. Usually in a short and violent manner, but she was a guest in the Patrician's home at the moment and she had no intention of spilling blood within her walls—even if the man deserved it solely for being a pervert.

"Aw, come on, don't ignore me," the man said, moving to stand in her field of vision. "Surely you enjoy the verbal sparring as much as I?"

"Unless you have business with the princess, I must insist that you leave," she told him.

"You don't even want to know my name?"

"Not particularly, no."

"Not even if I have business with the princess?"

"Do you?"

"No."

"Then no."

He laughed at that, annoying her even more though she did not let it show on the outside. "Ah, you wound me, milady."

Unfortunately, no, she thought.

"So, Tira, what did you do to earn such a place of honour at Her Majesty's side?" he asked.

"The same way anyone else would," she said, finally looking him in the face. "By fighting. And killing."

"Heh, I can only imagine," he replied. "Perhaps, if you have some time, we could adjourn to one of the alcoves and get to know each other a little better? We can share stories of battles we have fought. I am sure a pair of seasoned warriors like ourselves have much to...share?"

Deciding she'd had enough, she drew herself to her full height—easily half a head taller than him—and glared him right in the eyes. "Perhaps it would be best if you went on your way before I decide to _make_ you," she said firmly.

He looked up at her, eyes widening slightly. "My, you're a big one," he said. "Frankly, I'm unsure of how I'd handle all of... _that_."

"I repeat—"

"No, I think I would be much more comfortable handling your princess. She looks about the right size for me—"

Tira's sword cleaved the air with a loud whistle as it left its scabbard and its tip found the man's throat, pressing just hard enough to force him backwards before it broke the skin. Before the man knew what had happened, he found his back against the wall, the sword tip pressing tightly against his Adam's apple, and the very intimidating bodyguard's face inches from his.

"If you ever come _near_ the princess or her chambers again, you are a dead man," she hissed. "Do you understand?"

He must not have had any fun responses prepared, because the only response he offered was a strangled "Yes".

"Good," she said, stepping away and sheathing her sword. "Run along, little man."

He scampered away, muttering. "Gods, you Hyrulians are all so fucking touchy."

She watched him until he disappeared from view and then went back to her post, intending to warn Zelda about the man as soon as she emerged from her room. She would keeping a close eye on that one...

* * *

Rehm looked up from the report he was reading as the clock struck ten, and grinned. They were close, now...

* * *

Upon meeting Zelda again later that morning, Sheik found himself feeling very awkward. He had been so angry with her during the night, pacing frustrated back and forth in his room, but by the time Link had convinced him to go to bed, the anger had lessened considerably. And when he'd woken up and discovered that he was being cuddled by Link, it all but evaporated, especially when the Hero told him about the conversation he'd had with the princess. As a result, he was unsure of how he was supposed to act as they were preparing for the tour of _The Chimera_. The only thing he did know was that, after some thought, he understood why Zelda did not want him and Kafei to interact with each other, and that he was willing to conceded to that for now.

"Hello."

 _Goddesses, I'm pathetic,_ he thought after making that greeting.

"Good morning," she replied, looking unsure of herself. "I...er...I owe you an apology, Sheik."

He shook his head. "No, I'm the one who should be apologising. I did not think before reacting, and..." The sentence fizzled out; he'd lost the thread halfway through.

"But I failed to consider how what I said could be interpreted," Zelda said. "I did not mean to make it sound like I was ordering you as a Sheikah...I...I'm sorry."

"How about we just leave it at that and go back to being friends, huh?" Link said, swooping in as he finished tightening his bandoleer. He tested his reach to ensure that he could draw his sword as fast as possible.

"Yes, listening to the pair of you is quite embarrassing for everyone," Tira added. "You are both sorry, and you both forgive each other, correct?"

"I suppose so," Sheik said.

"Yes," Zelda agreed.

"Then the matter can be buried," Link said, grinning excitedly. "And we can finally go to the airship."

"That eager to see it, are you?" Sheik asked, amused at his lover's enthusiasm. He was feeling less so, having been on the receiving end of the ship's deadliness before. That, and he was unsure of whether or not his less-than-successful attempts at seamanship would come back to haunt him on the airship. He knew that sailing on water and through the air were two very different things, but it was still a damn boat, flying or not.

"Of course I am!" the Hero exclaimed. "I've always wanted to fly, and I guess this is the only way I'll get to."

"I'm quite excited as well," Zelda said, her relief at having reconciled with Sheik so quickly apparent. "I'm looking forward to speaking with this Jedistern Tadian fellow. I am hoping he will be able to explain how it all works without the aid of magic." She looked at Tira. "What about you?"

"I...am not sure how I feel about it," Tira said. "On one hand, it's a fascinating machine and sure to be of great use in many ways, but on the other I can't help but feel that we do not belong up there. If the Goddesses meant for us to fly, they would have given us wings."

"Fair enough," Zelda replied. "If you do not wish to accompany us, you may of course stay here, Tira."

The bodyguard looked offended at that, frowning. "When did I say I wished that, Your Highness?"

"You didn't."

"Exactly."

The four left Zelda's chambers and headed for the entrance hall of the estate, where Rial, Riveth and, surprisingly, Angen was waiting for them along with several of the higher-ranking officers of the army. A score of soldiers were waiting outside as well. Unfortunately, it seemed that Sir Iteos had invited himself along with them, standing at the back of the room, conversing with a pair of his men. Sheik did his best to ignore the man, noting that Tira seemed to be glaring daggers at him as well, and kept his focus on the idle conversations between the members of the group as they made their way through the streets of Caldhaven and out the gate.

 _The Chimera_ stood proudly on her new landing struts out in the fields behind the city, steam rising from her vents and the shiny metal glinting in the sunlight. Hundreds of men and women were on the ground, surrounding the ship as they went through the maintenance routines required between each flight. Large hoses connected to a pair of gigantic tanks snaked their way onto the deck and into the construction surrounding the gasbag, refilling it with the precious hydrogen that enabled it to fly.

"So tell me, general," Zelda said as they walked along the beaten path through the snow, "how did you come into possession of the vessel? As I understand it, it is the same one that attacked you in the opening days of the war."

"It is the very same vessel," Rial answered. "And as for how we came to control it...well, it was a result of a sneaky plan concocted by the very man I appointed as captain of the vessel. He came up with the idea of capturing one of the refuelling stations and wait for the ship's scheduled docking. After that it was a simple matter of overwhelming the crew and just...taking it."

"Sounds very sneaky indeed," Zelda said. "And you said the man who came up with it is currently its captain?"

"Correct. The man who designed and built the vessel—the royal engineer, Jedistern Tadian—has been training our men to operate the airship. I chose the captain because I could not think of anyone I trusted more with the responsibility."

"A wise choice."

"Are you talking about the funny-talking man with the limp?" Iteos asked from the back of the procession. "I thought for certain he was a drunk."

"He likes to make people think he is," Rial said, not even looking at the knight.

"Well, if he was, he would certainly fit the image of a pirate...or air-pirate, if you will. The only thing missing is an annoying parrot on his shoulder."

"Unfortunately, you're too big to sit on his shoulder, Sir Iteos."

That made everyone but the knight and his cronies laugh, and Iteos did not open his mouth again.

They were only a few hundred yards away from the ship now, and Sheik realised he'd forgotten how big the ship really was. It towered above them; the landing struts alone were taller than the biggest building in Caldhaven. The numerous gun ports looked like open maws, waiting to unleash the destructive power within and utterly annihilate what they were aimed at. The hull creaked, the metal shrinking from the cold.

"Ladies and gentlemen, _The Chimera,"_ Rial said, gesturing up at the monstrosity, not really sounding proud that it was under his command. "Shall we board?" he asked and gestured towards the gangplank.

The activity on the ground could not be compared to that on the top deck. There were crewmembers milling about everywhere, each and every one of them fulfilling a specific purpose or performing a critical task. Many were checking the rigging and replacing wires, cables and ropes where the officers thought it necessary. Soldiers were performing exercises, seeing how fast they could be ready to fight should they discover infiltrators or be boarded by enemy troops. Below, beneath the open mouth that was the cargo hold, crates of supplies were being loaded onto the ship.

Rial appeared to be looking for someone specific as he let his eyes roam the deck. Sheik spotted him before the general, pointing at the spot where Jedistern Tadian was currently busy tinkering with what looked to be a metal ball resting on a pillar about as tall as he was. Cables stretched from the base of the pillar and down below deck. He looked quite annoyed, constantly checking a notebook before continuing to tinker with the machine. Rial went over to him and a quick conversation took place before the engineer put down his tools, glared viciously at the contraption before joining the group.

"Your Majesty," the engineer said, bowing deeply before Zelda. "I am Jedistern Tadian, Royal Engineer and designer of _The Chimera_."

"A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr. Tadian," Zelda replied, inclining her head. "I must say, this is a an impressive construction. I cannot imagine how much time you spent working on it."

"Far too long, Your Majesty, far too long," Jedistern replied. "And these days I find myself wishing I had never thought of it in the first place. The utter evil it has been used for so far outweighs the good it can accomplish by far. I have been promised that, upon the war's successful conclusion, it will be destroyed for the greater good. I can only hope that your arrival here can make said conclusion arrive much faster."

"As do I, Mr. Tadian," Zelda said, nodding in understanding. "However, I was hoping that I would get to experience one flight before it is decommissioned."

"That is exactly why we are making such hasty preparations as we speak, Your Majesty," he replied. "I believe we will be ready to lift off in about fifteen minutes. Refuelling is almost complete, maintenance finished. I believe there is one errant stretch of cable that needs to be replaced below deck somewhere but it is hardly vital for the ship's functioning. We are a few men short, but I believe they are mostly cadets and will hardly be missed during the short flight the captain has planned."

"That is reassuring to hear," the princess said. "I was also wondering if you would be willing to explain the principles behind this machine, if you had the time...?"

"I would be delighted to show you, Your Majesty, but I fear I will need a lot more time than we have on hand at the moment. Perhaps later this evening?"

"I will hold you to that."

A loud horn sounded, and the activity on deck seemed to speed up.

"I believe the captain is getting impatient," Jedistern said, pointing at the small tower at the stern of the vessel. "If Your Majesty will pardon me, I need to secure the newest addition to the ship."

"Of course, Mr. Tadian."

They watched as the stressed man began to collapse the pillar and cover it up with a tarpaulin, cursing loudly when the thing refused to cooperate by the looks of it. The ship began to vibrate slightly and a loud humming sound was starting to emanate from below—the engines were starting. Rial led the group to the bridge and invited them inside.

Sheik remained outside, already feeling nervous as he walked to the starboard side and grabbed on to the railing. His legs were getting shaky, though he knew not if it was because of the engines or his nervousness. He was glad he'd decided to wear his mask that day; otherwise he'd surely be the laughing stock of the entire crew. Link noticed and stayed behind as well, standing beside his lover and looking at the walls of Caldhaven.

"Don't look down," the Hero said. "That'll just make you dizzy."

"I'm not afraid of heights, Hero," Sheik reminded him.

"Even so, it doesn't help when you're already nervous."

"I'm not nervous."

"Then why are you gripping the railing so hard your knuckles are turning white?"

Realising that the Hero was right, Sheik loosed his grip slightly, taking several deep breaths.

"Are you okay?" Link asked concerned. "You're a bit pale..."

"I'm absolutely fine. Just excited."

"Right."

"Very well, I'm a little nervous," he admitted as the vibration grew stronger. "I'd rather not have a repeat of the last time we were on a boat."

"I'll be fine," the Hero said, sounding confident. "There won't be any waves up there, you know. Just...wind, really."

"Clearly you haven't seen what wind is capable of," Sheik said, remembering the sight of the tossing and turning ship after Ard had unleashed a magically fuelled windstorm upon it. It was only luck that had prevented _The Chimera_ from crashing into the mountainside that night. Of course, he doubted that winds _that_ strong were going to buffet the airship that day, but he imagined that normal wind could be quite dangerous on its own.

"Good thing you're holding on so tightly, then."

Another horn sounded, and the officers began to bark orders at the crew. Those who had been working on the ground were hurrying up the gangplank as the hoses from the hydrogen tanks were disconnected and lowered the waiting ground crew, who then moved to get clear of the ship's impending lift-off. When the whole crew were on-board, the gangplank was raised and stowed away. Another horn, and the engines began to fire. Their roar was loud enough to block out all other sounds and set reverberations through Sheik's body.

"Maybe we should go inside," Link suggested, pointing at the bridge. "Probably less windy in there."

Sheik found himself nodding, finally admitting defeat. He was terrified of this thing. He'd had no idea crawling around the inside of the other airships in Ironhill, but they had been thoroughly grounded. The idea that such a great pile of junk could ever hope to get off the ground was laughable and he would have refused to believe it had he not seen it multiple times for himself.

The crew still topside were beginning to move below deck as well, suggesting that lift-off was something everyone preferred to endure while under no risk of tripping and falling over the side, a sentiment with which Sheik definitely agreed. The roar of the engines was dying down slightly, the engineers below running it through the motions to ensure they were functional.

The bridge was almost packed full. Jedistern had only made room for the bridge crew to be able to move around comfortably, but the addition of the visitors was making it quite difficult to do just about anything. Not that the captain seemed to mind. Sid was conversing excitedly with Zelda, who seemed just as enthusiastic, pointing out different instruments and what this and that lever did. She noticed Link and Sheik entering and waved at them.

"There you are!" she yelled in order to be heard over all the separate conversations that were taking place between the visitors and crewmembers. "I was just talking to the captain here!"

"Oh, please, Yer Majesty," Sid said, looking offended at the title. "Call me Sid. _He's_ th' Cap'n," he said and pointed at Rial, who was conversing with Riveth and Angen. The visit seemed to be revitalising the sickly woman, which was a relief to see given how god-awful she had been feeling the past few weeks.

"Captain?" Zelda asked, confused. "I thought he was the general."

"Aye, he is," Sid confirmed. "But he's also th' Cap'n."

"He was the captain of the Royal Guard before the war," Sheik supplied as they finally made their way to the captain's chair, enabling them to speak without having to shout. "It's an honorific." He was feeling much better now that they were inside. All he had to do was ignore the fact that he was still on the damn ship.

"Right'y'are, Trollslayer," Sid said.

"Trollslayer?" the princess asked, looking amused.

"It's a long story," Sheik said, not really wanting to live through that horrible night again.

"We've got time," Sid said unhelpfully, looking just as eager as Zelda to hear the story. "Plenty o' checks t' run through before we can dump th' ballast 'n soar into th' sky!"

"Story, story, story," Link chanted.

Sighing, Sheik crossed his arms and began to tell them about the night he, Rial and his men had been attacked by trolls and were forced to defend themselves. He added no embellishments of any kind, simply told the story as it had happened, only pausing to describe the creatures to the princess, who seemed enraptured with the story itself and absolutely horrified at the trolls. It took him long enough to finish it, because Sid and Link kept asking questions. Sheik wouldn't have minded if it were only the Hero who wanted more details, because Link was honestly curious in that. Sid, however, only did it to annoy him and amuse himself as the crew did the final preparations for take-off.

By the time he could honestly say that he was finished, the checks were complete and all was well according to each section. Sid straightened up in his chair and managed to look somewhat respectable.

"All right, ladies 'n gentles, hang on t' yer hats," he announced, glancing at the first mate. "Drop th' ballast 'n cut th' tethers! Let us fly!"

"Aye aye, captain," the first mate said and relayed the orders through the speaking tubes.

The ship jerked slightly sideways and up as the gigantic weights were released to the ground. They had been one of two safety measures keeping _The Chimera_ on the ground during refuelling. The other was the tethers tied to large hoops that had been buried deep in the soil, effectively tying the ship the ground. They had to be cut every time, because the knots were far too elaborate and difficult to untie. Cutting them was extremely risky, and if one was unfortunate enough to find oneself in the path of the suddenly supersonic reinforced cable, odds were one would not walk away alive.

 _"Cutting tethers!"_ a voice sounded from a speaking tube, followed by another jerk that was felt through the entire ship. And with the final ties to the earth cut, _The Chimera_ began floating upwards. The ascent was rather quick, felt by everyone on the bridge as a less-than-subtle sensation of being pulled downwards, the buoyant gas quickly lifting the ship high into the sky. The visitors gasped and ah-ed as they watched the world rapidly fall away beneath them to be replaced by what looked like a gigantic model of Lumina.

Sheik, suddenly feeling ten times worse than before, found Link's hand and gripped it tightly, his other hand clinging to Sid's control panel, certain that he was going to bend the metal at some point. He felt Link squeezing tightly back, letting him know that he was there and offering his comfort. Sheik glanced at Link, intending to offer a wordless thank you with his eyes, but immediately decided not to upon spying the gleeful look on the Hero's face as his gaze remained locked on the rapidly shrinking world outside. Zelda and everyone else but Sid and the bridge crew were similarly enraptured, though Tira looked a little uncomfortable, which made Sheik feel slightly better, knowing that he was not _completely_ alone in this. In a stark contrast to the visitors, the crew looked quite bored with the whole procedure, which was to be expected given that they most likely saw this on a daily basis. Sid looked excited, but that was nothing new—the man seemed to subsist on adrenaline alone.

They continued to climb, and climb, and climb, and Sheik wondered if they weren't going to stop until they reached the stars. Surely they wouldn't?

"Eight thousand feet, captain," an officer announced.

"Release th' valves," Sid ordered. "This is a good altitude."

"Releasing valves."

The airship's fast climb began slowing down, gradually coming to a standstill and floating still in the air. Well, still was a faulty description. The ship swayed quite heavily, buffeted by the strong winds that reigned at their current altitude. If this was how it was going to be travelling on the airship all the time, Sheik would gladly live the rest of his life on the ground. He was already feeling his stomach beginning to rebel, threatening to expel the quick brunch they had inhaled in Zelda's chambers before leaving for this trip.

"Strong winds, captain."

"Start th' engines 'n activate th' stabilisers. Let's try not t' lose any o' our dignitaries, eh?"

There was another roar from the engines, and it was as if the winds outside calmed down considerably. The engineers below were constantly making minor adjustments to the outputs of the engines, trying to stabilise the ship as much as possible to prevent it from taking damage from the high winds. It was a complicated series of actions and usually not something the by-now experienced airmen bothered with, having gotten used to the constant swaying and sudden movements of the superstructure.

"Well, Yer Majesty," Sid said, turning in his seat to look at the princess. "Welcome t' th' skies."

"It's...magnificent," Zelda said, captivated by the view outside. She had been to the Sacred Realm and the infinite beauty it contained, but to given such a perspective and view of her _own_ world was something else entirely.

It was a dizzying thought, knowing that below them, millions of people were going about their daily routines, most of them unaware of the tiny ship suspended underneath a gigantic balloon flying high above them.

"Th' view from in here doesn't do it justice," Sid said. "Would ye like t' step outside?"

The princess nodded eagerly, nearly causing Sheik to groan out loud. The doors were opened and the party slowly filed outside. Sheik was last out the door, casting a sad glance at the suddenly very roomy bridge, wishing he could find a reason to stay inside, but he could not conjure one up in his mind, and the Hero's rather insistent tugging on his hand left little room for argument.

The air outside was even colder, forcing everyone to cover their faces lest their noses freeze. The winds were still strong, though they did not threaten to sweep anyone over the side thanks to the cover provided by the balloon and clever panels that absorbed and deflected most of the gusts. They still dried out everyone's eyes, however, and Sid was soon passing out goggles so that it was actually possible to see.

The captain had been right. The view from inside the bridge was nothing compared to the unadulterated splendour that stretched out endlessly in all directions beneath them. Hills and lakes turned into scale models and cities became mere specks of grey on the white blanket that was Lumina during winter. Around them, the mighty mountain chains that protected the kingdom from its enemies seemed more like a large fence, though most of the crags still loomed high above the altitude of the airship.

The visitors gathered at the railing, pointing out various interesting sights to each other. Sheik once again found himself holding on to the metal for dear life while his lover, suddenly oblivious to his suffering, let his excitement take over and send him running all over the deck, speaking to every airman he could find and demanding to know what this and that did and what those thingamajigs were for and if that doohickey was necessary for them to survive. It was a sight that would have inspired the love and admiration the Sheikah had for his boyfriend's endless curiosity and his need to know everything about whatever he was interested in at the moment, but Sheik could not bring himself to feel the love right then because his heart kept leaping to his throat every time Link even came _near_ the edges of the ship. It was bad enough that _he_ felt like he was either about to throw up or fall off—he didn't need to worry about the Hero on top of it all.

Zelda seemed to notice his plight, however, and took pity upon him, moving closer and taking his arm in hers, making it look like he was steadying her.

"So, neither boats on the water or in the air?" she asked after making sure no one could hear her.

"Apparently not," Sheik said, glad to have some conversation with which to distract himself. Was he _really_ the only one feeling the impending doom like it was hanging just above their heads? "At least I am not being sick," he offered in an attempt to be optimistic. "Yet." Optimism and he were not good friends.

"You should ask Link to share some of his affinity for ships," she said, pointing at the Hero of Time, who was currently entranced by the men and women crawling all over the rigid construction that protected the balloon. They were checking for leaks and weak points that could appear at any moment's notice because of the stress flight put on it, moving from panel to panel while expertly hooking and unhooking their safety harnesses. One wrong move and it would be the end of him or her, ripped away and tossed down to the land below. Sheik already knew that Link wanted to try it. He could only hope that none of the crew indulged him.

"He should share it with Tira as well," he said, looking at the bodyguard. Her face seemed perfectly relaxed and neutral, but her stance told anyone who looked closely enough that this was not something she agreed with. Zelda nodded in agreement.

"She does not seem to approve of this at all," the princess stated, shaking her head slightly.

"And you?" Sheik asked. "How do you feel about the fact that we are floating beneath a balloon filled with a highly volatile gas thousands of feet over the ground?"

"I love it!" she exclaimed, smiling from ear to ear.

"Of course you do," he said in a deadpan.

The princess laughed, pulling him closer.

* * *

The tour Sid had planned was not limited to a single lift-off. He insisted on taking the princess and the others on a patrol of the areas surrounding Caldhaven. They flew over the rebel army, which had grown so large that they had to be set up several separate camps as to not give themselves away too obviously. They were also taken to one of the previous battlegrounds, where a skirmish had been fought, though any trace of it had been buried by the snow. They hovered closely over a frozen lake and watched as the engines melted a large hole in the ice, which was several feet thick.

An unfortunate crag became a target as the captain gave a demonstration of the ship's guns, a display that left most of the visitors in awe, while others felt uncomfortable with the idea of firing such weapons, even at an inanimate target.

It was past noon by the time Rial found himself standing on the bridge, speaking with Sid as the latter stood behind the rudder, watching the visitors walking around on deck.

"I think you've made an impression on them," Rial said. "Especially the princess."

"She's a riot," Sid replied, grinning. "Far from wha' I expected from Hylian royalty. Reminds me o' th' King. An' it's always a pleasure t' meet a fellow tripod."

"Tripod?" Rial asked, confused. Sid indicated pointed at his cane. "Ah, I see."

"Aye, 's always nice t' be around someone who understands wha' it's like."

"I can imagine," Rial said, looking at the clock embedded in the control panel. "Time to head back, you think?"

Sid looked at the clock as well, nodding. "Aye, high time, in fact. Got some upgrades t' do, apparently."

"What kind of upgrades?"

"Beats me, th' prof doesn't say much."

"Fair enough," Rial replied, heading for the door. "I'll let the others know we're going back." He reached for the handle, and it was only by chance that he happened to glance out the window behind Sid, spotting something strange. "What's that?" he asked.

"What's what?" Sid said, glancing behind him. "Tha'?"

"Yeah, that thing," Rial confirmed, abandoning the door and walking to the back of the bridge, leaning against the glass to get as good a look as possible. "Is it a cloud?"

A grey, irregular shape was floating in the air, far away. It could easily have been mistaken for a cloud, like Rial did, but then he noticed that it seemed to be...shining? It was definitely reflecting the sunlight.

"Ain't a cloud," Sid said, reaching for his telescope and unfolding it. He held it up, frowning. "It's moving 'gainst th' wind."

"What is it, then?" Rial demanded, his good spirits taking a severe plunge upon noting the steely expression Sid had on his face as he lowered the telescope, his eyes staring at nothing in particular. The captain took a breath, and spoke.

"It's a ship."

* * *

The crew reacted to the general alarm with swiftness and precision. It was as if they had been doing it their entire lives, reporting to their positions and quarters within seconds. The lookouts had also spotted the unidentified ship and were relaying its position continually to the bridge. _The Chimera_ was turned around so that her side was facing the approaching vessel, ready to give it a full broadside should it turn out to be an enemy.

Rial gathered the guests on the deck and explained the situation.

"...given the uncertainty of the situation, I think all non-combatants should go below deck," he finished, trying not to look at the princess specifically, knowing it would insult her greatly, even if she herself knew that she would be useless in a fight in her current condition. Instead he accidentally looked at his aunt, who positively bristled at the suggestion that she was not a combatant.

"I'll be staying up here, thankyouverymuch," she wheezed, giving him an ugly look. "If there's to be battle, I want to see it up close and personal."

Knowing it was useless to argue against his wilful aunt, he nodded. "Fine, just stay close to me, in case I get hurt."

"Will do."

He ignored the look he got from Angen at that, and felt sympathy as the former innkeeper-turned-medic tried to convince Riveth that perhaps fighting in the thin air was not a good idea, which only seemed to make her more determined to catch her death up there, and glanced at the others. Iteos and his men did not appear to be interested in any fighting and were already moving below deck, as were some of the officers who most likely felt that they were in over their heads. Zelda exchanged glances with Link, Sheik and Tira, nodded and also moved for the nearest ladder, her bodyguard in tow. Rial looked at the Hero and the Sheikah.

"Staying?" he asked.

"If we can be of assistance," Sheik replied, though he looked far from certain.

"As long as we don't get in the way," Link added.

"I'm certain you won't," Rial said, noticing that Jedistern had come up from the engine room and was searching for something. It was him, apparently, for the engineer hurried over, practically tearing the telescope from his hands and looking at the approaching ship, which was growing larger and larger, cursing loudly. "Something to add, Mr. Tadian?" he asked, not liking the man's reaction at all.

"I know which ship that is," Jedistern replied, looking at Sheik. "It's _The Annihilator_."

"What?" Sheik asked. "That's impossible, we sabotaged it!"

"Evidently not thoroughly enough," Jedistern said, holding up a hand to stave off the look of outrage already building on Sheik's face. "Not a snipe at you, mind," he defended. "I suspected that rupturing the boiler wouldn't be enough to ground the ship for more than a month or so, but I had _hoped_. They must have had a spare one made up."

"I thought you said it would take months to have another made," Rial asked, his tentative confidence spawned by the ambiguity of the ship's identity. As long as they had been unsure of whose side it was on, it could have been a new ally—the theory had not been particularly solid, but it was a hell of a lot better than the alternative, whose ugly face was now staring right at them.

"The engines, certainly," Jedistern confirmed. "Boilers, however, are not difficult to manufacture. The only thing you need to ensure is that it's completely airtight. They could have made another one mere days after the sabotage."

"You _said_ it would disable the ship permanently!"

"I _hoped_ it would!" the engineer shot back, angrily. "I was desperate to come up with a plan, you were threatening to kill me, remember?!"

"Arguing about this won't accomplish anything," Link interrupted, pointing at _The Annihilator,_ which was coming into proper view now, its armour plating shining brightly. The gun towers were pointed directly at _The Chimera_ , which was like a fly in comparison to the enormous battleship. "How do we beat it?!"

"We cannot," Jedistern said firmly, killing the discussion right away. "Our guns won't put a dent in it, its armour is too strong. I designed it to be impenetrable."

"Then we run away," Rial said, not sure of what else they could do. " _The Chimera_ is smaller and faster. They won't catch up with us."

"But where do we run? They will find us sooner or later," Sheik said. "And what about the army? They won't stand a chance against that thing."

"We won't have a chance to anyway," Jedistern said. "We won't be able to get away before we're in their range, and a single broadside from _The Annihilator_ will turn us into dust."

"Then what do we do?"

"If I might have a word?" Sid asked, hobbling towards them, looking unconcerned with their impending destruction. He even cast an amused glance at the armoured monstrosity hurtling towards them on the way. If a man could stare Death in the face and laugh, it was surely him. "We can't run away, we can't beat 'em with our guns—there's only one option left."

"And that is?" Riveth asked.

"We get up close 'n personal," the captain said, waggling his eyebrows. "So close they can't fire."

"And then?"

He paused. "I...haven't gotten tha' far with th' plan yet, but it beats gettin' vaporised like a schlub."

Rial shrugged. "Can't argue with that logic, I suppose. Do it, captain."

"Aye-aye, Cap'n," Sid replied, saluting. "Care t' join me on th' bridge? It's reinforced."

Again he found it difficult to argue against such a generous offer. He was unsure of what to expect of the coming minutes, but he had a feeling it would be akin to the apocalypse.

* * *

"I knew nothing good could come of this," Sheik said after nearly being tossed across the bridge, clinging tightly to a pipe that he was quite sure wasn't supposed to take his weight. It felt like it was about to give, growing progressively hotter every minute as the engine far below them worked overtime to keep manoeuvring within _The Annihilator's_ firing range without actually getting fired at.

"Always so negative," Link said jokingly, apparently still finding the trip hilariously fun. Either that, or he was covering up intense dread. Either way, it was unpleasant.

"Hang on, goin' left!" Sid shouted and spun the rudder. "Or port, whichever's left!"

 _The Chimera_ lurched to the left, and a brief view the main deck of _The Annihilator_ passed by in front of them, the view tilted. A deafening boom was heard as the larger airship tried to fire upon them, missing by several feet, hopefully. The enemy ship came into view again, passing them by port side.

"Give 'em a volley!" Sid announced.

"Port guns, fire!" an officer shouted into a speaking tube. There was second of delay, and then _The Chimera_ shook violently as every single one of her guns on one side fired simultaneously. The range was optimal for its gun, every single cannonball striking its target perfectly. But the enemy's armour was too thick, and the projectiles bounced harmlessly off the hull. A single ball, aimed by someone either very skilled or very lucky, found its way right into one of the swivelling gun towers, which exploded in a gigantic fireball and rained burning debris upon both ship's decks.

"Ha- _ha_ , tha's what I like t' see!" Sid laughed manically.

The amusement died seconds later, when he realised that the firing manoeuvre had accidentally put _The Chimera_ in a perfect position for the enemy to shoot. The towers all turned towards them, and the top row of gun ports opened.

"Fuck, evasive manoeuvres!" he shouted, already desperately turning the wheel while the first mate adjusted the outputs, trying to throw _The Chimera_ out of the firing line.

It was too late. The first cannons fired and scored direct hits all over _The Chimera_ 's port, most of the damage centred on the guns. The people on the bridge were thrown about as one of the thrusters were hit and threw the entire ship off-balance. The inequality in forward thrust put them off course and listing to the side, heading straight towards _The Annihilator_. Sid tried to steer it away, but the controls had been severed.

"Brace for impact!" someone shouted, and Sheik clenched his jaw and held on to the tube for dear life.

The momentum of _The Chimera_ was enough to cut deeply through _The Annihilator's_ armour, ploughing through several compartments before the rigging of both ships got tangled in each other. The sudden stop sent more than a few crewmembers from both ships flying over the sides, screaming and flailing as they fell towards the earth.

The pipe Sheik had been clinging to ruptured and spewed scalding steam into the bridge, obscuring everything in a warm, moist fog. Someone slammed violently into one of the control panels, spearing themselves on the jagged pieces of metal with a wet groan. Sheik scrambled away from the searing heat and tried to find Link, who he'd last seen trying to help Rial, who'd hit his head on the window. He crawled, trying to ignore the sound of squeaking and groaning metal around them, finding a pair of unmoving legs and a spreading pool of blood. It was the first mate. His throat had been cut by a shard of glass from a broken gauge, launched at great speed when it had shattered. He continued searching, eventually finding his way to the captain's seat. Sid was nowhere to be seen, his cane rolling along the slanted floor.

"Sheik, over here," Link's voice said to his right, and Sheik followed it. He found the Hero and Sid tending to Rial, who had been knocked out cold by the impact with the glass. "He's okay, nothing's broken."

"He's just feelin' a tad under th' weather," Sid said, looking uncertain.

"What happened?" Sheik asked.

"We crashed," the captain said. "Not my best plan, this, in hindsight."

"No kidding."

"Stay with 'im," Sid said, standing up and limping in the general direction of the door. "I need t' see what's goin' on." He found it, but the frame had been bent by the impact. "Damn...Hero, would ye do me a favour?" Link came to the rescue, and with their combined efforts they were able to kick the door off its hinges. The sunlight pierced through the steam and the wind blew it out of the bridge, finally letting them see again. "Well, tha's not good."

Sheik made sure that Rial was not about to go rolling across the floor before joining them in the doorway, finding himself agreeing with the captain of _The Chimera_.

Both ships were hopelessly entangled in each other, the bow of the smaller vessel buried deeply in the hull of the larger, listing to the side. _The Chimera_ 's crew were scrambling to cut the rigging and wires that had become entwined, though it did not seem to have much of an effect. The crew of the enemy ship was not wasting any time in trying to defeat their enemy, however, and had brought out bows and crossbows, firing up at _The Chimera_ and trying to arc over the sides. Some were lucky, most weren't.

"Looks like we're on fire," the Hero noted, pointing to the smoking billowing from the port side, where they had been hit by the enemy's volley.

"Least of our worries right now," Sid said, going back to his seat and roaring into the speaking tubes. "This is th' cap'n, somebody answer!" It took a few minutes, but a tinny voice eventually replied.

_"Engineering! We're in bad shape down here, captain!"_

"Reverse engines!" Sid ordered. "Get us away from th enemy!"

_"No can do, we blew several gaskets and ruptured about ten feet of piping! Until we get them fixed we won't be moving an inch!"_

"Get t' it, then before we're made a permanent part o' th' structure!"

_"Already working on it, captain!"_

"Does anyone know where th' princess is?" he added, nodding in Link and Sheik's direction.

_"She is in the crew quarters, captain. She's well-guarded!"_

"Good, make sure she stays tha' way!" He stepped away from his panel and returned to Rial, who was groaning as he came back to consciousness. "I suppose ye'd like t' go t' th' princess," he said to the two of them. "I'll stay here try t' get th' boat movin' again and look after 'im."

They wished him luck and climbed out the doorway and down the tilted staircase. The upper deck was in complete disarray. A group of men were trying to quench a blazing fire that was spreading quickly, having already engulfed the gangplank. Everywhere else were those cutting the rigging, the wounded and those trying to drag them out of harm's way.

"Still think this was a good idea?" Sheik asked, immediately regretting it when Link shot him a look. He couldn't help it; the question just came out of nowhere.

"Look, there's Riveth," the Hero said, pointing to the bow, where Riveth had gathered several of the marines stationed on the ship around her—dedicated fighters meant for fighting on the ground, usually inserted by rappelling down from the cargo hold, along with Jedistern, which was surprising since Sheik had expected him to be down in the engine room. She was gesturing wildly, pointing down while swinging her sword. She looked every bit the commander she'd been before the rust lung had overwhelmed her system. She noticed them and waved them over.

"Glad to see you're all right!" she said. "My nephew?"

"He's okay, but sort of out of it. Hit his head quite hard. Sid is with him," Sheik told her.

"Ah, good," she said. "That makes what I'm about to do much easier." She turned to Jedistern. "So, what do you think?"

"It might work, but not in the way you are thinking," the engineer replied. "The engine room will be far too well defended for you to be able to make your way to it with so few men. I suggest going after the bridge instead. Control that, and you control the ship. Trigger the manual release for the balloon, and nothing will prevent it from crashing."

"How do I do that?" she asked.

"It's a beg, red button encased in protective glass. You cannot miss it."

"All right, then," Riveth said, whooping and clapping her hands. "You hear that, ladies and gentlemen? Big red button surrounded by glass! Break it and we end this thing immediately!"

The soldiers raised their hands and cheered.

"What are you doing?" Link asked

"What does it look like? Taking the fight to the enemy, of course!" she said proudly, leading them towards the side, avoiding the arrows and bolts that were still being fired from below. "Their guns can't fire up at us form this angle, but the second we disengage from and get ours asses out of here, they'll blow us out of the sky, so I've decided to ensure they can't." She pointed at the many ropes and wires hanging down from the balloon, some of which reached all the way down to _The Annihilator's_ deck. "We're taking those down." As if to answer the unspoken question of how she'd get down there without being turned into a hedgehog, she donned a pair of gloves. Rope burn would not be a problem.

"That is a suicide mission," Sheik said. "You'll never make it back onto _The Chimera_ in time."

"Hm, yes, you are absolutely right," the ex-general said, as if it was an interesting titbit rather than a grave fact. "It's a risk I'm willing to take, though, as are my men here."

There was another cheer.

"That's crazy!" Link exclaimed. "You can't do that!"

"I can and I will, Hero," she said firmly. She leaned in close, so that only Sheik and Link could hear her. "This is probably the last chance I'll have to go out like a warrior. I refuse to die like an invalid, drowning in my own blood. Surely you won't object to that?"

"What about your nephew?" Sheik asked, not planning on stopping her, understanding completely why she was doing it and not blaming her at all.

She glanced at the bridge, frowning. "Tell him I'm proud of him and know that he'll win this godsdamned war."

"We will," Sheik said.

"Thank you, now get your asses below deck before it's too late. You never know, I might fail," she said, taking hold of the nearest rope and climbing onto the railing, neatly sidestepping as an arrow tore past, landing right between Sheik's feet. "Told ya," she said with a shrug. "Come on, you bastards, let's win one for Lumina!" she roared and threw herself off the side, sliding down towards _The Annihilator_ , accompanied by twenty-five others, all of them whooping and roaring as they flew through a rain of projectiles. Some were hit, losing their grip on the ropes. They hit the deck below with loud crunches, breaking every bone in their bodies.

Sheik and Link watched as chaos erupted once they landed, immediately drawing their weapons and cutting down the assembled archers who were too slow to fight back.

"Well, best of luck to her," Jedistern said behind them. "I'm going back to engineering, see if I can't get the ship moving before she drags us all down with her."

Riveth and her men were already halfway to the bridge by now, leaving a trail of dead bodies behind them.

"Maybe we should go below too," Link suggested. "We're kind of useless right now."

"You're right," Sheik agreed. "Let's find the princess."

They climbed down the ladder leading below, coughing from the putrid smoke that floated in the halls. Fires had been burning here as well, the wood floor charred and still smouldering. As they navigated their way to the crew quarters, which neither of then knew where was, Sheik realised how different _The Chimera_ was to its sister ships. Where the battleships had all been completely functional and militaristic, _The Chimera_ was clearly designed to function as a personal transport for the King as well. Banners hung on the walls and carpets covered the floor (where it wasn't burned to cinders, that is), and there were all these little touches of decoration, like delicate carvings in the lacquered wood. It all seemed so...ridiculous, in this context.

It was dark; the gaslights had gone out, and oil lamps had been hung here and there, providing _some_ illumination.

They passed one of the gunrooms and saw that the entire side of the ship had been blown away there, leaving nothing but open air. He didn't dare imagine how it had been like to be in there when the volley had hit.

"This way," Link said, pointing down a seemingly random corridor.

"You sure?"

"Better than that way," the Hero said, pointing down the opposite way, which was littered with bodies. Sheik made to follow Link, but then he noticed something strange about the dead. They were wearing the wrong colours...

 _How did they get on board?_ Sheik wondered.

There was a shout from Link's direction, and he turned around just in time to see the Hero come charging the other way with three heavily armed soldiers chasing him. Enemy soldiers.

"Not this way, not this way!" Link shouted as he reached the junction, unable to draw his weapon because of the cramped quarters.

Sheik was ready, however, and had his blades drawn in an instant and ready to meet the enemy. The first man didn't even realise he had been cut until blood shot out from throat and he crumpled to the floor. The second managed to parry Sheik's first swing, but he was not prepared for the thrust, gasping as the blade sank into his stomach. The third pushed past Sheik as he busied himself with finishing off the second, but he ran right into Link's shield and was pushed back. He tried to recover, but then he briefly saw the hilt of the Hero's sword appear in his vision. And then it all went black.

Sheik wiped his blades on the dead man's clothes and looked at Link. "You didn't kill him," he noted.

"Didn't see a reason to," the Hero countered, challenging Sheik to make a big deal about it.

"Tie him up," the Sheikah said, deciding not to.

"Right."

They continued searching for the quarters, and it quickly became apparent that more than a few enemy soldiers had somehow made it on-board, judging by the many bodies from both sides littering the halls. Sheik tried to figure out how they'd gotten onto the ship, but no answer was forthcoming. They were too high above _The Annihilator's_ deck for them to just climb, so they'd have to have some help. But who had done it?

The sounds of fighting came from a junction ahead, and they saw shadows moving quickly ahead. The two shared a look, and prepared their weapons, charging forward.

It was over before they reached the fight. The last enemy fell, clutching the bleeding stump where his hand had been. He barely had time to mourn the loss, however, as his head came off a second later. Tira grimaced as she wiped the blood off her sword with a rag, turning to face the newcomers with a steely expression, which softened considerably when she saw who it was.

"Hero, Lord Sheik," she greeted.

"Tira," Sheik said, nodding. "Where is Zelda?"

"Right here," the princess said, peeking out from a small room to the side.

"Are you okay?" Link asked.

"Just fine," Zelda said, limping towards them. "Lost my damn—er, darn cane somewhere back there," she grumbled, waving in a random direction. She was using a sword to support her weight instead. The blade was covered in blood. "This one works too, though."

"What happened down here?" Sheik asked. "Where did all these soldiers come from?"

"Cargo hold," Tira answered. "Someone opened it and released the elevator. A whole platoon came aboard within minutes of us crashing."

"We tried to fight them there, but we were too few and they overwhelmed us," Zelda continued. "We managed to seal the hold, though. It should keep them out for a while."

"Do you know who helped them?" Link asked.

"Yes," Tira said, grimacing angrily.

* * *

"Progress?" Sid asked into the speaking tube. He had been asking for reports regularly, though they were getting progressively dim. Apparently, a whole bunch of enemy soldiers had found their way onto his ship and were making life hell for the engineers, who'd been forced to barricade themselves in the engine room. There were men down there to protect them, but the barricades did not hold for very long at a time, and they were fighting a losing battle. Sid had directed more men to aid the fight, but the reinforcements were taking a long time to get there.

_"We're almost ready to test fire, captain! Just ten more minutes!"_

"We ain't got ten minutes!" he replied.

_"We're doing our best! We need Tadian if you want it to go faster!"_

"What, he's not there?" Sid asked. "I saw 'im head below twenty minutes ago!"

_"Well, he's not here!"_

Sid cursed. "Fuck! Sit tight, then, and keep workin'!"

_"Aye-aye!"_

A shadow appeared in the doorway and he whirled around, pointing his crossbow at it.

"Whoa, whoa, it's me, it's me," the shape said, holding up its hands.

It took the captain a few seconds to see who it was, and relaxed, putting the weapon down. "Th' fuck have you been?" he asked, glaring at Iteos as he climbed inside the bridge, wiping blood from his hands.

"Fighting below," Iteos replied. "In case you haven't noticed, we've been boarded."

"More than noticed," he replied. "Been tryin' to organise the men belo'."

"It's not working very well," the knight said, stumbling over the body of an officer. "We've lost half the soldiers already." He noticed Rial lying still in the corner. "What happened to him?"

"Hit his head. Why're ye here and not belo'?"

"Decided to ensure that the command centre hasn't been taken. Looks damn close to it, though."

"The enemy ain't come up yet," Sid growled. "Until then, our forces are better committed down there."

"Fair enough," Iteos said. "Is there anything I can do?"

"Nothin' so you...actually, ye can help me by keepin' an eye on those gauges," Sid said and pointed at the wall behind him. Between looking at the meters and gauges on his panel and those on the wall, he was giving himself whiplash. "Tell me if any of 'em dip into red."

"Right you are, captain," the very annoying knight said with a salute. "Uh, not to alarm you, but there are several in red."

Sid rolled his eyes. "The ones that aren't, moron."

"I'll choose to consider that a result of your stress."

"Just shut up 'n do as I say!"

The bridge fell silent as two concentrated on their tasks. Iteos' presence was already getting on Sid's nerves. The knowledge that the clown had taken advantage of the King really didn't help, and he sort of wanted to toss him over the side just for the fun of it. It would be doing the world a favour, that was for sure. And to imagine the look on the man's face as he fell...oh, it would be a vision for the gods.

"So, I can't imagine general-guy over there will be happy with your performance today," Iteos said. "I mean, you lost the battle before it began."

"Anyone would've," Sid replied. "This ship ain't made for this kind o' situation."

"Maybe, maybe not," the knight said in a singsong. "Still, you've nearly lost the rebels their only advantage. Surely that will not reflect well on a performance review."

It would have taken so little effort. Had it not been for his limp, Sid would have had the bastard over the side already.

"I don't know who ye're tryin' to fool," he said. "Everyone knows ye're just doin' this for fun, and th' second you grow bored or scared you'll leave with yer tail between yer legs."

"I gave my word—"

"Which is worth less'n what I left in th' cesspit this mornin'."

"Such hurtful words," Iteos said, chuckling. "What makes you think my word is worth so little?"

"Everythin' I've ever heard 'bout you," Sid answered. "But if you really want me t' go into details, here's they are. Th' Battle o' Tannhäuser. You pledged yer allegiance to th' rebels there, but turned yer tail halfway through th' battle, leavin' 'em all t' die."

"It was that one time," Iteos said, his voice coming closer.

"One time's enough t' brand yerself a traitor n' coward forever, and—"

He gasped, a sharp pain suddenly lancing through him, emanating from his side. He looked down and saw the hilt of a knife buried deep in his flesh. Iteos' grinning face appeared in his peripheral vision.

"Forever indeed," Iteos said. "And Tannhäuser was hardly the first time I broke my word." He twisted the knife, causing the captain to groan and feel the strength of his body fading quickly. "Did you know how laughably easy it was to kill the guards outside the cargo hold and open it? Didn't even take me two minutes."

"Bastard!"

"Mmm, yes, yes I am."

"Why?!"

"Because I can? Maybe because the good Councillor Rehm has promised me all the money, women and men I could possibly want? Who knows, it's all a _very_ great mystery," the knight said. "It would hardly take a genius to figure it out."

"Maybe not, but it's good t' know _one_ thing about you," Sid said, noticing something that immediately made it all worth the pain he was feeling at the moment.

"And that is?" Iteos asked, twisting the knife further.

"That you're an idiot," Rial said, putting his arm around Iteos' neck and pulling him away from Sid, who sank into his chair, gasping. "With no situational awareness!"

Iteos choked and tried to twist out of Rial's grip, but the general was much larger and stronger than the knight and only tightened his grip.

"This is for Victor," Rial growled. "And Link, and everyone else you've fucked over in your miserable existence!" He took a breath, gathered his strength and with all the viciousness he could muster, gave the knight's neck a savage twist. It snapped with a loud crack, and Iteos went limp. He let go of the body, and it hit the floor with a thud. Then a wave of dizziness overwhelmed him, forcing him to sit down, leaning against the wall. "Sid, you okay?" he asked, his vision blurry.

"No," Sid replied, groaning. "Bastard got me good."

"Damn it...I'm sorry I didn't react sooner...didn't realise what was happening until he had his knife in you."

"It's fine, Cap'n," Sid said, chuckling. "I had a feelin' I wasn't gonna make it through th' war anyway."

"Don't say that, I'm sure they can patch you up."

"Doubt it. Bastard got me in the gut."

"Gods..."

"Or jus' Goddesses."

"You going religious on me, Sid?"

"I'm dyin', I'm allowed to."

They shared a laugh at the morbid joke.

_"Captain, captain! Are you there?!"_

Sid turned to the tube, clearing his throat. "This is th' cap'n, go ahead."

_"We're ready to cycle the engine and go full reverse!"_

"Do it," he ordered. "Better hang on, Cap'n, we're leavin'."

* * *

Sheik and the others were thrown off their feet when the ship suddenly lurched backwards, the engines roaring. The ear-piercing shriek of metal deafened them as _The Chimera_ pulled free from the hull of _The Annihilator_.

They'd been making topside, intending to warn Sid of Iteos' betrayal when it happened, and by the time they found their way to the upper deck, they were already a fair distance away from the enemy ship, which was listing to one side.

"Did she make it?" Link asked.

The answer came two seconds later. There was a loud boom, and _The Annihilator_ began losing altitude fast. Its hull started tearing itself apart as its lost the support of the internal gas balloon, crumpling under its own weight. The listing continued, the steam engines firing in a vain attempt to keep the ship in the air. Then something completely unexpected happened—all the gas being expelled from the balloon had to have gone somewhere, and Sheik could only assume that some of the hydrogen had gotten into the engine, somehow. The result was that the anterior section of _The Annihilator_ went up in a blaze, tearing the ship in half. Both pieces then plunged to the ground far below. They landed with a crash that was probably heard all over Lumina, kicking up a gigantic cloud of snow, steam and dust over a mile wide.

"Goddesses," Tira gasped.

"I hope there was no one down there," Zelda said.

"We were fighting over a forest," Sheik replied.

"Those poor animals," Link sighed, looking sad.

Their participation in the battle had been minimal, but they were all exhausted, especially Sheik. In addition, now that all other distractions were gone, the anxiety he'd felt at first was returning and all he wanted to do was to be back on the ground. Link must have sensed it, because he moved in close and made sure that Sheik could lean on him, while Zelda, her leg probably bothering her greatly, leaned against Tira. _The Chimera_ slowly righted itself as it limped away from the battlefield, and the four could only stare at the smoking and burning wreckage of the battleship below, counting themselves lucky to be alive.

* * *

**Soul Remnants**

**Chapter 74**

* * *

_The Chimera_ listed pitifully to one side as it slowly limped home. All but one of the thrusters had been shut down because of the potential mechanical failures, so the going was slow. There was little activity on deck. Most of the crew were below, cleaning up the mess caused by the battle. Every now and then, something was tossed out the gigantic hole where one of the gun decks had once been. It was slow work, however. Over half of the crew had either been killed or injured, and those who were left were clearly recovering still. They had not been prepared for a fight that day, and especially not one so fierce.

Riveth's death had been the biggest blow to the morale, especially to the ones who had served under her before the war. Sid was still clinging to life in the medical bay—though unconscious—and Angen was doing his best to keep him alive, though the odds were stacked against him. The gastric acid from the stomach wound was going to keep damaging his internal organs and slowly poison him to death, and if that didn't then the subsequent infection definitely would. It was only a mercy that he was not conscious, otherwise he'd be in tremendous pain. It was definitely only a question of when, not if, at this point. But Angen kept working—some thought because the death of Riveth had rattled him so badly that he would break down if he ever stopped.

Rial had suffered a minor concussion, though it was still enough to make him dizzy whenever he tried to stand up, which was why he kept himself firmly seated in the captain's chair, though he would not deign to order any of the bridge officers about—they actually knew what they were doing and were taking the craft slowly home. He had been quiet ever since he'd been told of what his aunt had done, showing no outward reaction other than setting his face in a grim mask and keeping his gaze firmly on the empty skies ahead of them.

The sun was setting, and darkness was quickly swallowing up the world. They would not make it back to Caldhaven before the night had settled.

Sheik was up on deck, hands firmly grasping the railing as he stared at a fixed point in the distance, trying to will his body into complying with his wishes. It was ridiculous, a Sheikah being unable to fly or sail—it all but ruined his image! He leaned forward, looking straight down at the ground. It didn't even take a second before a sense of vertigo set in and forced him to sit down on the deck, trying not to lose what little he'd had for lunch that day, cursing quietly to himself. He waited until his stomach settled down and his vision stopped blurring and swaying before standing up and trying again.

He looked at a specific point somewhere in the distance, let himself relax by trying _not_ to think about the fact that he was several thousand feet up in the air, and looked down. The vertigo came back, and he was once again forced to sit down. This process repeated several times before he gave up and remained in the seated position, knocking his head lightly against the railing and growling in defeat. He was clearly not meant for the maritime life, it seemed.

It also served as a useful exercise to distract himself from what he feared was the seal keeping Speil at bay was slowly weakening. In the past hour, it had slowly begin to burn, as if something was clawing at it from within, and there was a growing agitation within. Sudden urges surfaced within him, like an immediate craving to lop off a passing crewmember's head. If Speil was once again influencing his mind, then...

"You okay?" Link asked, standing a few feet away with his hands on his hips, studying his lover. "You're pale."

"I have just learned that I clearly do not belong on boats of any kind," Sheik replied, staring up at the Hero, relieved at the sudden intrusion to interrupt his thoughts. His presence seemed to calm Sheik's nerves down and ease whatever was happening with the seal. "And that I would rather not be part of an air battle ever again."

"You're not alone there," Link said, moving to sit next to him, resting his head on Sheik's shoulder. "I love the ship, though. It's amazing."

"You're saying that just to annoy me."

"Maybe." Link grinned. "Zelda keeps saying it, too."

"Not surprising," Sheik scoffed. "She always was interested in mechanical trinkets and such. Show her a cogwheel and she will be entertained for hours."

"I didn't know that," the Hero said, frowning.

"No one does," Sheik said. "Except for me, of course."

"Is this the part where you gloat about knowing her for your whole life?" Link asked. "Because that's getting old."

"I will admit that having known her for most of that time has given me a...special insight into her personality, yes," Sheik said, nodding slowly with a widening smile on his face. "But gloat? Hardly. Sheikah do not gloat, after all. It is not dignified."

"Neither is nearly hurling your guts out over the side, but you still do it."

"No one but you and the princess have seen that, and that is how it will remain."

The Hero chuckled. "I love it when you're all hoity-toity about something," Link said. "You come off as the most pompous ass of all time."

"I believe you have made that point before," Sheik replied sourly, but it faded when he felt Link put his arm around him.

"I have...and I've also said that you're _my_ pompous ass."

"Then I can live with being one."

They stayed like that for a while, sheltered from the winds by some cargo crates that had been secured with a tight net, just watching the red streaks on the sky disappear and give way to the shining stars above. At this altitude there was nothing to block their view, and they both gasped as the full splendour of the celestial heavens above was revealed.

Sheik hated boats and airships, but this was something he would willingly suffer through them for. The ache in the seal had disappeared as well. That was the key...Speil thrived on chaos within Sheik's mind, and serenity seemed to lock him up tighter than any prison. Sheik smiled to himself.

_Then serene is just what I will be..._

They stayed like that for a while, just admiring the stars. It was one of the few moments of peace either of them had had in a while.

The peace was broken, however, when they reached Caldhaven. The city was burning. Huge plumes of smoke were rising from the buildings rapidly being consumed by large fires. Alarm bells were ringing, echoing eerily across the land.

"What happened down there?" Link said, eyes wide and watering as _The Chimera_ passed through one of the pillars of smoke.

Sheik wrinkled his nose and coughed, the acrid smoke leaving a terrible taste in his mouth. "We won't know until we land," he said. "But I'd be willing to bet that it's connected with _The Annihilator_ suddenly showing up." An alarm sounded on deck, and there was a loud hissing noise as gas was rapidly being vented from the balloon, causing _The Chimera_ to lose altitude rapidly. The sudden change in air pressure made their ears pop, and they held on as the burning city below came closer and closer. Metal screamed as the landing struts unfurled and prepared to catch the airship's weight, the people in engineering most likely praying that they would not break.

The struts dug deeply into the frozen ground, the joints bending at a dangerous angle before the hydraulics kicked in and stabilised the mass. The ship rose slightly on its legs and came to a complete standstill. The engine was shut down and the deck was flooded with crewmembers that had hastily armed themselves upon becoming aware of Caldhaven's state.

* * *

Rial feared the worst as he descended the gangplank, shrugging off the hands offering to assist him. He might be a bit dizzy, but he wasn't going to let a minor concussion hinder him from finding out why the hell Caldhaven looked like a battlefield. There were people waiting for him by the bottom of the gangplank, their faces illuminated by the oil lanterns they carried. He recognised Ise's face immediately, even with the large bruise covering the right side of her face. Their forms were bathed in the orange glow of the burning city, and the faces all looked grim. He spotted Riner's face as well, though he seemed to shrink back upon noticing that Zelda was disembarking from the ship as well.

"General Vortan," Ise greeted him, sounding tired. "Welcome back." She looked up at the ship in an appraising manner and made a little humming noise; as if it's haggard state was a minor detail. "Encountered some trouble up there?"

"You could say that," Rial replied, looking up at the walls of Caldhaven in the same manner. "Been having some of your own down here, I see."

"Indeed," she said. "And I would not be surprised if both were connected in some manner."

"One of Rehm's airships showed up, and Iteos decided it was time to show his true colours," Rial said, grimacing when a twinge of pain lanced through his head. "It was only by pure luck and sacrifice that we were able to get out of there in one piece." He paused. "Or, not entirely in one piece, but..."

"I knew it," Ise said, nodding. "Iteos must have prepared for an opportunity like this. His men attacked the city simultaneously on the stroke of one. We've been fighting all day."

"But you won?" Rial asked.

"Barely," Ise said, "though not without losses. Most of the civilians got out safely, but the city itself is...well, you can see that for yourself. We tried to save all the supplies we could once we realised we couldn't stop the fire."

"A wise decision," Rial said with a nod, though it did not fill him with confidence to see their one sanctuary going up in flames. Once again the rebels were finding themselves without a base of operations. It would be difficult to recover from this.

"We also found this in Iteos' tent," she said, handing him a bundle of documents. "Turns out that he has been in contact with Rehm for months. I am thinking that he is responsible for all those skirmishes you were involved in on your way here. He kept Rehm notified of your positions the entire time."

"Damn that bastard to hell," Rial exclaimed, gritting his teeth as he studied the communications going back and forth between Iteos and Rehm. "How was he even able to send and receive all these?"

"Couriers, most likely," she said with a shrug. "He was given a fair amount of autonomy, was he not? He must have taken advantage of it to send unseen messengers." She looked at the steady flow of men and women leaving the airship, most likely noticing the several lack in numbers. "How many were lost?" she asked.

"No official tally has been made yet," he said. "But from initial counts, we seemed to have lost close to half the crew...as well as its captain."

"Sid has been killed?"

"Iteos got him from behind. He's not dead yet, but it's only a matter of time."

"And Iteos?"

"Snapped his neck and threw his body overboard."

"A fitting end."

"Public execution would have been more appropriate, but I was not thinking straight at the time," he said, pointing at the bandage wrapped around his head. "Nor was my aunt, apparently. She brought down the enemy airship with a handful of men."

"And where is she now?"

"She didn't make it."

"I'm sorry, general—"

"Don't be, not for her. She wouldn't like it. She went out the way she wanted to, and that's all I could ask for. She was probably laughing as she went down, and that's surprisingly comforting to think about."

Ise smiled. "I can only imagine. She was a very special woman, wasn't she?"

"Indeed." He looked at the gathered people around her. "What about you? How many losses?"

"Five hundred, give or take a dozen," she replied. "Most of them were my guards. Iteos' men attacked from within and hardly gave them time to react before getting cut down. It took some time for the army to mobilise and organise a counter-attack. The city and its inhabitants would have suffered a far worse fate had it not been for the commander."

"Who?" Rial asked.

"Riner, of course," she said, grabbing the mercenary commander's arm and pulling him forward. "He took command of the remaining defenders as well as his former men and established a line of defence that held until the rest of the army came to relieve them."

"Is that so?" Zelda asked, suddenly standing next to Rial. He hadn't even noticed her approaching them. "I thought I relieved you of command, Riner."

"That you did, Your Majesty," Riner said, bowing his apologetically. "But I felt that I could not stand idly by and watch as innocents were murdered by the traitors. I have seen enough innocent blood spilled for the rest of my life."

"I would also like to add that he saved my life," Ise said. "Had it not been for the commander, half the chain of command would have been lost, in fact. Please, Your Majesty, do not punish him for this."

Zelda frowned, but nodded. "I suppose I cannot fault you for disobeying orders in this situation, commander," she said. "Perhaps I was wrong to doubt you after all."

"Not at all, Your Majesty," Riner said. "I wouldn't trust me as far as I could throw...well, myself, which isn't very far at all." He smiled slightly. "I can only hope that what I did today will serve as evidence of my sincerity."

"It certainly won't count against you, I'm sure," Ise said.

Zelda nodded, and was about to open her mouth to say something, but the Hero was suddenly next to her, whispering urgently into her ear and pointing at a form that was rapidly making its way towards the city walls. Her eyes widened and she quickly excused herself, hurrying after it with Link and her bodyguard. Rial wondered what that was about, but then another wave of dizziness overcame him and he was finally forced to accept someone's steadying hand.

"General, you're injured," Ise said. "I think it's best that you lay down and get some rest."

"Too much to do," he protested.

"We will deal with that, general," she assured him. "If we lose you, then we will lose _everything_. Please, do not make me tie you down."

He could have sworn he saw a faint smile cross her face at that, which worried him greatly given the awkwardness between ever since the night she had kissed him, but the allure of some proper rest was proving too great to resist.

Ise quickly began ordering men about, prioritising unloading the wounded. Rial smiled to himself. They were in good hands, it seemed…

* * *

"Sheik, wait!"

He ignored Link's call and continued trudging towards the city gates. He had to find out whether or not Kafei and Elenwe were okay, and if Maladict had been saved from the fires. There were so many things he had to know. He would also have liked to know why the hell Zelda was working with Commander Riner, a man she herself had banished from Hyrule for working with Ganondorf. He faintly remembered the commander as a man of honour, but the fact remained that he was an enemy. And now he was suddenly here, and Zelda hadn't even told him! He wanted to confront her about it, but not now, he was too worried about Kafei and the others.

"Sheik!"

He felt Link's hand on his shoulder, but shrugged it off.

"What's wrong?"

"You know exactly what's wrong," he told the Hero without stopping. He wasn't feeling very well.

The second his feet had touched solid ground again he'd begun to feel nauseated, and it felt like he was going to throw up any second. The seal was burning intensely as well, and Speil's laughter kept echoing through his mind. The Shadow had yet to speak, but it was only a matter of time, and it was bound to be smug and infuriating, as usual, perhaps even more. And most worrying of all was the sudden wave of dislike and—to his horror—anger he felt towards the princess. It was tearing at his nerves and the smartest thing he could do right now was to stay as far away from her as possible, but Link was not making it easy.

Riner's face flashed before his mind's eye again, and a fresh wave of anger flooded his system.

"She's working with the enemy, now?" he asked no one in particular, catching himself wondering where the question had even come from. He could not recall thinking about it before speaking it.

"It surprised me too, but don't you think she's doing it for a good reason?!" the Hero said, falling into step beside him. "And he's not the enemy anymore. You heard Ise, he saved a lot of people today."

"That does not excuse the thousands that were tortured and killed by the Legion in Hyrule!"

"No, but they didn't do that on _his_ orders, did they? It was Nuviro and Amel!"

"He was still part of it," Sheik said. "And what was he even doing in Lumina in the first place? Fighting for Rehm, I bet!"

The Hero forced him to stop now, grabbing his arm firmly and staring into his eyes. "Sheik, what's the matter? Where are you going?"

"Nothing and nowhere, I just want to see Kafei!"

"She said you couldn't—"

"She can't ban me from seeing my family!" Sheik growled, pushing Link away and stomping towards the camp that was being put up in front of the burning city.

Link wanted to follow him, but the way Sheik had spoken just now had been terrifying. His lover's normal, gentle voice had been in there, but it had sounded like there was another one on top of it, swallowing it up. It had almost sounded like...

The Hero shook his head. No, that was impossible. The creature was sealed away. Even so...

"Link, what's happening?" Zelda asked as she and Tira caught to him.

"He's going to see Kafei," Link said, knowing it wasn't much of an explanation.

"What?! I told him not to—"

"He's going to whether or not you allow it," Link said, watching his lover disappear among the tents, a thought forming in his head. He knew Sheik would hate him for doing it, but something was clearly wrong with Sheik and there was only one thing that could cause it. He stopped Zelda when she made to follow Sheik, and said, "There's something you need to know..."

* * *

"Hey."

Kafei turned around to face the greeter, surprised to find his cousin standing there and looking irate. For a second he feared he'd done something to incur Sheik's wrath (yet again), but when the younger Sheikah did not unleash a torrent of bile at him, he blinked. "Hey," he greeted back. "No offense, but I'm not really allowed to be around you."

"I know," Sheik replied firmly.

"Zelda was rather adamant about it, too, involving heads on spikes and everything."

"I know."

He shrugged helplessly. "I'm sure you understand if I say that it's something I'd rather avoid for now."

"A wise decision."

"So...I'm going to go...over there, if you don't mind," he said, pointing in a random direction.

"Actually, I do mind," Sheik said, grabbing his arm and dragging him off the street and into shelter provided by two tents on either side of them. "She can yell all she wants, but she won't stop me from seeing you when I damn well please." He looked Kafei over, probably noting that he was wearing his combat gear. "Are you okay?" he asked.

"Just fine," Kafei answered, looking Sheik over as well, noticing that there was a significant tremble in his cousin's body. It was probably the anger. "Assault caught us by surprise, but we managed to fight our way out of the estate. Your horse is fine as well, it's with the others in the temporary stables over there."

"And Elenwe? Is she all right?"

"All right? Better than that," Kafei said, shuddering. "I have a feeling that she has only been playing at being the wounded and frail Gerudo girl these past few weeks, because the second the alarms sounded she was out of the bed in a flash and cutting down Iteos' men by the dozens."

Sheik blinked. "Really?"

"Wouldn't believe it myself if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes," Kafei said, shrugging. "She barely even acknowledged her leg, which I believe is almost fully healed anyway and..." He couldn't help but smile at the mental image of his lover wreaking havoc among Iteos' men. "She fights surprisingly well with only one arm and two joints on her fingers."

"Where is she now?"

"Presumably somewhere in the camp," he said. "She started ordering some men about and they obeyed out of pure fear, I think. Probably intimidating the hell out of Zelda's forces."

"That's good," Sheik said, his anger seemingly abating, though the tension within his body still remained obvious for anyone to see. This wasn't the type of alert and aware that Sheik—and indeed, Kafei—always maintained in order to be ready for action at a moment's notice. No, it was a different kind, one that seemed to stem from whatever was troubling the younger Sheikah greatly. His eyes darted in all directions, his jaw clenched and hands flexing and always kept near one of his sword hilts. Had it been anyone else, Kafei would have suspected post-battle stress, given what he'd heard the airship had been through—news spread like wildfire in this place—but this wasn't anyone else. This was Sheik, the Sheikah prodigy and someone not susceptible to stress...or at least not willing to show it to others, not even other Sheikah.

It troubled Kafei greatly to see him like this, especially when he knew there could only be one cause.

"What's wrong?" he asked, catching Sheik off-guard with the question judging by the suddenly widening eyes.

"W-what do you mean?" Sheik said, his eyes narrowing as fast as they had widened, immediately suspicious. "There's nothing wrong with me."

"Then why so defensive?" Kafei said. "You've been through a lot today..."

"And? That is **none of your business** ," Sheik spat.

Kafei took a step back, surprised by the manic glint that had suddenly appeared in his cousin's eyes, only to disappear almost immediately. His voice had changed momentarily as well, suddenly going deeper. There was no question about it, the creature was gaining influence—fast! Steeling himself, he closed the distance between them again and put a hand on Sheik's shoulder, trying to sound kind. "Sheik, I think the seal is weakening, and I think it's in everyone's best interest that we speak with Ard and the other warlock. They can help—"

"It's no use," Sheik said, pushing away from Kafei. "It'll just break again!"

"It's better to stave off the inevitable until we find a way to destroy it completely, then," Kafei tried, only to pause when one of Sheik's hands found a sword hilt, drawing it slowly. "What are you doing, Sheik?" he asked calmly.

"I...I don't know," Sheik replied, shocked. He hadn't even realised he was drawing his blade. His jaw clenched and he gritted his teeth so tightly that Kafei was sure some of them would break. He gasped and backed into the fabric of the tent behind him, hand still firmly holding one of the swords Kafei had had made for him. "S-stop," he whispered, "Please..."

"Stop what, Sheik? What's going on?" Kafei said, keeping his distance. This was what he had feared ever since being informed of the Shadow that possessed his cousin. He'd hoped the seal would be enough, but should have known better than to trust something so important to a pair of admittedly powerful but inexperienced warlocks, one of whom had been killed soon after casting the spell. "Sheik, talk to me," he said when Sheik hadn't answered for a full minute.

"Get away from me," Sheik said, blade fully out of its sheath now. "He wants to kill you..."

"The Shadow?"

Sheik nodded. "I can't...stop him..." he groaned, sweat pouring down his face as he clearly struggled to keep himself under control.

"Don't let him break out, Sheik, keep him in there!" Kafei said, casting a worried glance towards the road, hoping that no one else was seeing or hearing this. Knowing that one of their allies was possessed by what could only be described as a demon in disguise would cause nothing but trouble among the rebels—they might even try to kill him! Kafei was certain that he would be able to defeat the Shadow if it materialised again—after all, he'd done it once before, although he'd caught it by surprise while it was feeding. Nevertheless...

"Not...breaking out..." Sheik forced out.

"What?"

"Taking...over..."

Any further questions Kafei had about what was happening would forever be silent, for the roar that erupted from his cousin's mouth that second went through bone and marrow, chilling him to the bone and freezing his blood. The younger Sheikah fell to his knees in the snow, and his eyes began to glow with an unearthly fire, his skin paling until he looked like a walking corpse, his hair turning an ashen grey. Kafei stared, immobilised by shock at the sudden transformation that was turning Sheik into a mockery of himself. Then the burning eyes focused on Kafei, and a cruel smile spread on Sheik's lips.

 **"Time to settle a score,"** the Shadow said, and lunged at him.

* * *

**Soul Remnants**

**Chapter 75**

* * *

He barely managed to jump out of the way as the Shadow pounced. Kafei heard the sound of one of Sheik's blades cutting through the air right next to his ear, twisted out of its way, and then he was tumbling into a snowdrift, filling the neck of his coat with the freezing stuff, which immediately began to melt. The few microseconds it took him to reorient himself in the drift were enough for the Shadow to recover from its failed attack and begin its assault anew, cackling as it attempted to stab both its blades into Kafei's stomach. He rolled away and got to his feet, drawing his own blade and assuming a defensive position, studying the abomination that was now standing in front of him.

He couldn't believe his own eyes. It was Sheik, but at the same time it _wasn't_ him. Everything that had been vaguely welcoming or familiar about his cousin had been replaced with the horrid, shady imitation that was pacing around in the snow, its eyes glowing like the fires of the burning Caldhaven that illuminated them for all the camp to see. He glanced towards the tents. People had heard the howl Sheik had let out as the Shadow had taken him over and were coming to investigate. This was bad. The soldiers were distrusting them enough as it was-seeing Sheik in his current form would only make things worse!

Away, away, have to get away! Kafei thought as he locked eyes with the Shadow, made a false start and darted to his left, sprinting as hard as he could towards the forest on the other side of the field. There was nowhere else to go that provided any sort of cover.

 _"_ **Running away? Hah, this is going to be** _ **fun**_ **!** " the Shadow shouted after him as it began to lumber after.

I'm not running away, Kafei thought, realising he'd grossly miscalculated how quick he'd clear the open field as his leg sank in the snow up to his knee. He'd forgotten to account of the damnable white shit! He heard the Shadow close in and hurled himself forward, ducking under a clumsy horizontal swipe from one of its swords, introducing more snow to the inside of his coat. It gave him the leverage he needed to wrench his leg out of the snow, however, and allowed him to once again begin sprinting, making sure to distribute his weight a little better. One more mistake like that and he'd lose his head, most likely.

About halfway to the tree line, the Shadow tripped him, sending them both sprawling into the drifts. Kafei barely managed to lift his sword to parry the flurry of attacks the Shadow launched at him immediately after righting itself. He remained on the defensive, blocking, parrying and dodging attacks, trying to find openings to take advantage of.

There were plenty.

It took him a couple of minutes to figure it out. The Shadow was taking advantage of Sheik's fighting style, which had undergone several changes over the years from the looks of it, but underneath all the new flurries meant to distract, false attacks meant to put the enemy off-balance and all the other tricks he'd added to it, it was still the same, basic Sheikah style that Impa had taught them both as children. And Kafei knew exactly how to counter it.

The fact that the Shadow was clearly not comfortable in its new form helped a great deal as well. Compared to Sheik's graceful, flowing movements, it almost looked inebriated and unbalanced, appearing ready to trip over its own feet at any moment.

No such luck, though. The Shadow seemed well aware of its own problems and was compensating for them. Given enough time, he would learn how to fight just like Sheik, and the second that happened Kafei would most likely die.

He shook his head and came back to the situation at hand. He didn't have the time to plan ahead just now, he just needed to stay alive long enough to reach the forest. He saw an opening, parried the blows and kicked the Shadow's legs out from beneath it. The abomination's head disappeared under the white sheet, and Kafei turned and ran, praying to the Goddesses that he'd reach the trees before it caught up to him again.

Luck was smiling on him that night, it appeared, for seconds later he was running among the thick trunks, dodging errant branches and nearly tripping over snow-covered stones. It forced him to sheathe his sword, lest he wanted it to get caught on something or accidentally drop it somewhere. The light from the burning city didn't reach this far, leaving him running in pitch-black darkness, but his eyes allowed him to see perfectly-one of few perks he valued from his ancestry.

Unfortunately, it meant that the Shadow could see perfectly as well, through Sheik's eyes. Or eye. He made a note of it, hearing the Shadow approaching quickly from...

The right! He dodged, grabbing hold of a thick branch and swinging out of the way, cursing as the bark and edges cut through the palms of his hands. He let go and executed a roll upon hitting the ground. The snow here wasn't as deep, most of the branches above having caught the frozen precipitation. A heavy thunk behind him told him that the Shadow had tried to attack again, but hit the trunk of a pine tree instead, giving him time to turn around and draw a dagger, hurling it in the Shadow's direction.

The sight of the Shadow made him pause, and coldness that did not stem from the melted snow in his neck went down his spine upon realising that he'd made a mistake in coming here. He'd failed to take into account that, even with his perfect night vision, this was the Shadow's domain, and it was already taking every advantage it could from the nooks and crannies swathed in dark to dart in and out of Kafei's view, and Kafei found himself unable to keep up with it. The Shadow seemed to have realised it couldn't go up against him in a straight fight just yet, so it was most likely going to-

It attacked, appearing from behind a tree with both swords held in a cross, aiming to separate Kafei's head from his neck. Kafei ducked, aiming an upward punch at the Shadow's stomach. It connected, and a loud groan came from the Shadow though it did not slow down at all, quickly disappearing among the trunks again. Kafei drew his sword, assumed his standard defensive posture and stood his ground, whirling around in order to keep a close eye on the creature as it tested his reaction times. Several times it tried to get the drop on him, either from behind or one of his sides, but Kafei's trained instincts saved him every time.

But Kafei couldn't remain stationary forever, and soon enough he was once again legging it through the trees, aimlessly running deeper and deeper into the forest, having no idea where to go. In hindsight, he told himself that he should have stayed in the field. At least there he would have been able to keep an eye on the Shadow at all times.

He reached a small clearing, illuminated by the pale moonlight above. He positioned himself in the middle of it, exposing his form for all manners of eyes to see, though the ones he was worried about stayed among the shadows, peering out at him with a predatory gaze. It caused Kafei to grin. It confirmed that the Shadow fought like a coward, refusing to give its opponent any form of advantage whatsoever. He wasn't entirely sure what he was going to do with that particular piece of information, but he'd learned long ago that knowledge was power, and the more knowledge he had of his enemy the better.

"What's wrong?" he asked the Shadow, lowering his sword in a careless manner he hoped would draw it out. "Scared of a little moonlight?"

" **Not as scared as you are of me, it seems,** " the Shadow replied, its eyes disappearing, only to reappear a few seconds later on the other side of the clearing. Kafei had no idea how it was moving so fast, but it could only spell trouble. " **Poor little Sheikah, lost in the woods with no friends there to help him, hunted by the big bad wolf.** "

Kafei forced a grin. "Given that you've stolen my cousin's body, the big bad wolf analogy doesn't work. If anything, Sheik is more of a puppy than a wolf." He pointed his blade at the eyes, which were flickering with what looked like anger. "Release him, Shadow. This is your first, and final, warning."

" **Or what?** " it asked, chuckling. " **You're going to** _ **kill**_ **me? Surely you are not** _ **that**_ **stupid? Kill me, and you kill** _ **him**_ **!"**

Kafei cursed inwardly. He'd known it from the start, of course, that there was no way he could use deadly force on the twisted mockery of Sheik that was stalking him. The only one who would be hurt would be Sheik himself while the Shadow laughed and mocked them both. Had it been possible to do so, Kafei would have ended the fight out in the field before the Shadow had even had a chance to attack the first time.

What now? What now? he asked himself, looking around. There were no immediate options available as far as he could _see_ , but... He concentrated on listening to the environment around them, wondering if perhaps there was...yes, he could definitely hear the sound of running water close by, and another few seconds of slowly turning in a circle gave him a good idea of which direction it was in. If there was a river, he might stand a chance after all!

The Shadow knew exactly what he was planning, however, and was standing in the middle of Kafei's way, making a clicking sound with its tongue.

" **Do you think you will make it? How about a wager?"** it asked.

"I'm not a gambling man," Kafei replied, slowly inching closer to the edge of the clearing, steering right towards the Shadow. "Never cared for money in general, really."

" **Money holds no value for me, my wager is in the flesh. Such as how quickly I will find myself violating my pet over and over again after I've killed you. A minute? Two minutes? Please, place your bet.** "

Kafei forced an even wider grin, refusing to rise to the bait. "If you really do love him as you claim, then surely 'violate' is not the right word?"

**"It is when he refuses to acknowledge me."**

Its voice dropped as it spoke those words, and chilled Kafei to the bone. He couldn't lose-not when knowing what this...monster was planning. But there was only one thing he could do now that would work, but it was very risky...but he'd always liked risks, hadn't he?

He muttered a curse and hurled himself forward, as if offering himself to the blades he himself had had made for Sheik, like he was giving up. It was the last thing on his mind, though it clearly surprised the Shadow, which hesitated _just_ long enough for Kafei's hand to find another dagger, throwing it. He'd aimed for the creature's heart, and it, as predicted, acted according to basic instinct and threw itself out of the way. It was a sacrifice of a weapon, but worth it. Kafei dove through the now unoccupied space, rolled to his feet and ran towards the sound of rushing water, hearing the sounds of the creature chasing him. It was not far behind. Sometimes he could swear he felt the thing's breath at the back of his neck. A whine, and something passed mere inches by his ear. It appeared that Kafei was not the only one carrying knives. For a few seconds he worried that his plan would end with him lying facedown in the snow with a dagger in his back. It would not be difficult to hit him, even if he kept running in a zigzag pattern, not when the creature simply utilised its shadowy gifts and Sheik's agility and stamina.

But then it came into view, the river. It was several metres wide, but to his disappointment it was frozen. That effectively killed his plan, but he was committed to the location now, and it gave him an open area in which to fight. He jumped, grabbed a sturdy branch and swung himself onto the river, alighting upon the ice with a loud crack that did not fill him with confidence. The ice was not _that_ thick, but it still posed a problem. He was brought out of his thoughts by another crack, looking up and finding the Shadow standing further down the ice, looking unsteady.

High walls of stone, preventing any escape by means of climbing, surrounded the river and a frozen waterfall blocked any escape backwards. He'd inadvertently trapped himself in a dead end like an idiot.

"Shit," he whispered to himself.

" **What's wrong?"** the Shadow asked, aping the Sheikah's words from minutes before. **"Scared of a little ice?"**

Kafei opened his mouth to give a smart-arse reply, but saw something more interesting. The Shadow was attempting to portray itself confidently, but the jerky and clumsy movements from not being used to Sheik's form seemed to exacerbate the fact that, surprisingly, it was having great trouble walking on the slippery ice. It tried to look imposing and impressive as it slowly approached Kafei, but every little slip ruined the image completely.

"Having trouble?" he asked, taking several steps forward without trouble. "Even a little child can walk on ice without too much trouble. You look like a new-born deer trying to stand for the first time."

 **"How dare you-"** the Shadow said while attempting to rush at him, but its anger betrayed it. From a distance it must have looked comical as it fell in the most clichéd manner Kafei could imagine, legs flailing in the air, but for the Sheikah it was only an opportunity as he darted forward, aided by the ice as he slid towards the fallen Shadow and attempted to aim a kick at its head. There was only one way to end this fight, and that was to knock it out long enough to disarm and tie it up. Hurting Sheik was not an option.

"Kafei!"

The shout distracted him, and the Shadow rolled out of the way of the attack, scrambling to its legs while holding on to the cliff.

A light appeared among the trees above them, and Kafei saw Link appear at the top, his sword drawn in one hand and holding a torch in the other. "Kafei, it's me! Hold on, I'm coming down!"

"No, stay there!" Kafei yelled back at the Hero. "The Shadow has taken over Sheik! We need the warlocks!"

"But-"

"No buts, go get them! I'll stall it here!" Link remained at the top of the cliffs, too far away for his expression to be read, but Kafei knew it was a doubting one. "He will die without their help! Go!" he tried again. The Hero clearly hesitated, but seemed to relent in the end, and the light disappeared. Kafei sighed in relief...and froze as he realised he'd made a fatal mistake. He'd lost focus.

" **Haven't you forgotten someone?"** the Shadow asked, its voice inches from his left ear. He felt the bite of its blade in his side even as he twisted out of the way and went stumbling over to the other side of the river, barely able to keep hold of his sword. He put his back against the cliff wall, watching as the Shadow slipped again with a loud curse, though it managed to remain standing this time. It was growing more and more accustomed to Sheik's form!

There was another loud boom as the ice beneath their feet clearly struggled to hold their weight, and a large cracked appeared along one side. Kafei cursed again, biting his lip to stop the groan of pain that tried to escape. There was a trail of blood leading from where he'd been standing to his current position, and while he was certain the Shadow hadn't nicked any important veins or such, it was still a deep cut he'd gotten, and blood was freely flowing from it. He wouldn't be able to fight for long before blood loss would start to weaken him, and that would be the end of him.

There was only one option, really, and it was the riskiest one yet. Again, he enjoyed risk. Hopefully, only one strike would be necessary, and it would give him a chance to test out a theory he'd worked on for the past few minutes. It really depended on whether or not the Shadow had only taken over Sheik's body and not made any...improvements.

Giving the Shadow no time to recover from the slipping earlier, he charged forward, waving his sword in seemingly random directions in an attempt to distract and put the creature off-balance. Once within striking range, he made to attack the Shadow's right side-but feinted and went for the left side, reversing his grip on his sword at the same time.

Yes! His theory had been right! Instead of raising its parrying blade in its left hand, it continued on its trajectory towards the right. Kafei's attack passed right through its defences, unhindered because, like Sheik, the Shadow could not see through its left eye-it was a massive blind spot! Making a triumphant bellow, Kafei let the pommel of his blade smash into the side of the Shadow's head with enough force to knock it out cold. The blow was strong, propelled by Kafei's forward momentum, and took the Shadow off its feet and sent it flying. According to Kafei's calculation, it would bounce off the ice and slide a few feet forward.

Unfortunately, he'd failed to take the ice into account yet again, or to be more specific, its thickness. Instead of quietly withstanding the weight of the Shadow, the ice broke, sending razor-sharp pieces flying everywhere. The dark waters swallowed Sheik's body immediately, disappearing from view.

There was no logical thought behind Kafei's actions then. Time slowed to a crawl as he saw Sheik's booted feet sink below the water in that black maw in the ice, and he began to run. Dropping his sword and everything else that would weigh him down, he did not even hesitate as he dove into the hole in the ice.

* * *

Victor had no idea what was going on. He'd been pacing around in his cell when there had suddenly been a lot of shouting out in the corridors, the door was ripped open and two guards had come in and hauled him out, marching him down the halls and up the stairs. The castle was an anthill of activity-servants were milling about everywhere, looking uncertain of what to do while giving their King a wide berth. Some were carrying the many valuables that had been on display around the building, as hoarding or protecting them. Soldiers were assembling in the great hall and guarding the corridors wearing full armour and weaponry.

And in the middle of it all stood Rehm, directing everyone with a great, booming voice. "I want everyone ready to go in ten minutes! If you are not ready then you will be left behind!" He noticed Victor and the soldiers escorting him and waved them over. "Ah, Your Majesty, good to see you again."

Victor kept a neutral mask on his face; aware of the sharpened bone he kept in his pocket. He just needed one perfect moment, and the bastard was a dead man.

"I trust you've enjoyed your stay in the dungeons?"

"I have, actually," Victor said, lying through his teeth-there was no way he'd give Rehm the pleasure of knowing he'd been miserable the entire time. "Wouldn't mind another few weeks down there, in fact."

"Well, you're out of luck there, I'm afraid," Rehm said as an officer approached him carrying a map of the city. "We're leaving."

That surprised Victor. Lumina City was probably the most defensible place in the entire kingdom. Rehm would be a fool to abandon it...unless things hadn't gone according to his plans at all. That had to be it. He allowed a small smile to come to his lips; something he knew would annoy the councillor greatly. Perhaps Rial was on his way already.

"Councillor, what about the troops on the walls?" the officer asked once he came within earshot, unfolding the map and holding it up to Rehm's face. "Half a battalion is stationed in the eastern part of the city alone, with another four garrisoned in the centre. It will take time to withdraw-"

"They are to stay and defend our capital from the rebels at all costs," Rehm said, leaving no room for argument. "I will not see Lumina City fall into enemy hands, is that understood?"

"Yes, sir, but-"

"But nothing, major," Rehm interrupted him. "If the rebels take the city it will be over their dead bodies!"

The major nodded and threw a sheepish look in Victor's direction before shuffling off. The King had never seen the man before, but he felt a pang of sympathy for him. Not that it lasted very long-the man was still working for a traitor, even if he didn't know it. If any one of them still believed that Victor was insane, then he was going to have to do a major restructuring of the military once the war was over. Every officer would have to go, for a start. Perhaps not the ones who'd been out in the field, they'd only followed orders from their superiors, but those superiors...all of them would have to go...and a fair few would be looking at prison sentences...if not worse...

He couldn't help but give Rehm a sly look. "War not going very well, councillor?" he asked.

"Minor setback, that is all," Rehm replied, shaking his head. "On the other hand, major progress on the other end. The Silver Guard has been destroyed, and the Winter Palace reclaimed, and the mines have been reopened. We have even located the tomb."

His stomach lurched at that. "W-what?" he asked. He'd known about the palace and the Silver Guard, but how fast had the digging been done? And there was a tomb? He'd thought for certain that it was all a fairy-tale...

"The tomb," Rehm repeated. "We've found it. And now I am going to the Winter Palace to open it. And you are coming with me, Your Majesty, for I want you to witness my moment of triumph."

The guards didn't seem to mind hearing about the plan at all. Victor wondered how much Rehm was paying them.

"You can't do this," he told Rehm. "The Goddesses-"

"Can bugger off for all I care," Rehm interrupted. "I have worked far too long for this, and I will not have my plans interrupted by a little boy who wants to play king. Guards, prepare him for the journey. Lock him in the Royal Carriage and make sure that he keeps his mouth shut."

"Sir!" the men replied and dragged Victor away.

"The Goddesses," Rehm whispered to himself, snorting. "Don't make me laugh."

He headed for his office, which was mostly cleaned out by now. He'd leave nothing of tactical value for the rebels to find when they took the city. It wasn't a question of if-it hadn't been since the second he'd received word of _The Annihilator's_ destruction and Iteos' failure to destroy the rebel leadership from within. He should have known better than to trust a damn mercenary, especially a hedonist like Iteos!

But no matter, he thought as he opened his desk drawer and retrieved the wrapped package from within, setting it reverently down on the desktop. Once he opened that tomb, everything would be all right again. It had to be, it was his last plan. He had no more trump cards should it fail-the rebels controlled the only airship now, and there was no way his men could take it on, even with all the artillery in the world.

He found a satchel and placed the package within, tying it shut and throwing it over his shoulder. He would not take it off before he reached the tomb, he decided. Too much rode on the stone reaching its destination to risk accidentally dropping it somewhere along the road.

There was nothing else he needed from the office. All the sensitive documents had been burned; the others were being loaded onto a cart at that very moment. He walked over to the window and peered out on the city. The populace knew the war still raged, but not a single one of them had any idea how close they were to its end. The rebels would be on their way to the capital already, he was certain. General Vortan would be in no mood to mess around at this point, and the sooner Rehm left the city the better.

But the rebels would not take the city without a fight. Rehm was placing as many men between himself and the rebels as possible. Even if the Royal Army lost the city, they would serve as a valuable distraction and, more importantly, delay the rebels while Rehm accomplished his mission. Either way, he'd win in the end. The most important thing was for the army to give the impression that the King was still in Lumina City.

He found the nearly empty bottle of brandy in his other desk drawer-he'd nearly finished it after the dinner he'd had with Victor-and poured the remaining content into a glass.

"A toast," he announced to the empty room. "To me!" He tossed back the brandy and threw the glass into the fireplace. It was a nice way to end his tenure as councillor, really. Putting on his heavy robes, he took one last look around his office, smiled and went downstairs. There was a pair of carriages waiting in the driveway of the castle. He cast a glance at the King's. The drapes were drawn, obscuring Victor from view though he had no doubt that the young man was doing his best to get noticed by the outside world. He went for the other carriage, which was far less grand though heavily armoured. He nodded to the driver and climbed inside.

The driver whistled, and the two carriages began moving, emerging into the streets of Lumina City and making a beeline for the northern gate. The rebels had yet to make an incursion in that part of the kingdom, and the highway would take them straight up into the mountains and the Winter Palace. Rehm made sure to take a last look at the streets he'd roamed for the better part of a century, knowing this would be the last time he ever sat foot in the city.

"Good riddance," he muttered and settled into his seat, finding another, full bottle of brandy among his luggage. It was going to take more than a week to reach the Winter Palace, and he intended to enjoy the trip.

* * *

He'd underestimated the current, and realised that the river may have been frozen, but below the ice it was a beast to contend with. The second Kafei was underwater he was tossed around like a rag doll, disorientating him immediately as the raced by above. He opened his eyes, only now aware that he'd closed them. Even with his exceptional night vision he had trouble seeing through veil of blackness around him.

This was a mistake, he thought, trying to keep calm. He'd taken as deep a breath as he could before diving in, but he was operating on a timer that was rapidly running out, and he hadn't figured out how he was going to get out of the river yet.

He righted himself, letting the current do as it pleased with minimal struggling, only to stabilise himself so he could gain something that resembled an overview. The river twisted and turned but ran on a more or less straight course with minimal dips, which helped immensely. His eyes darted here and there, trying to catch a glimpse of the Shadow, hoping that it hadn't recovered from the blow yet-

There!

Just ahead, arms and legs unmoving, it was being tossed around just like Kafei had been before he'd righted himself. It was clearly unconscious, which was both a good and bad thing.

Carefully, Kafei began to move, propelling himself forward with wide strokes. A single mistake and he would be at the river's mercy yet again. He was inches away from being able to grab Sheik's boot when the river twisted and dropped another few meters. The Shadow went spinning out of Kafei's reach while Kafei himself was dragged in another direction. His chest was burning, running out of air sooner than he'd expected, and when he saw that there was a crack in the ice above, he took the chance and swam upwards, breathing deeply through the crack before continuing.

The current was strong. It had already carried Sheik's body further away than he'd liked and it took him at least twenty seconds to reach him again. It only made his heart race faster, knowing that every second counted now. If they didn't get up soon, they would either drown or freeze to death-his limbs were already going numb and soon enough he wouldn't even be able to save himself.

His fingers closed around the neck of Sheik's coat, and Kafei pulled as hard as he could until he had an arm around his cousin's body.

Now, he thought, how to get out?

His answer came seconds later as they reached another waterfall, but this one wasn't frozen. Suddenly they were both falling, and Kafei saw the world spinning around them and felt the biting cold air reach inside his soaked clothes. Then they were underwater again, but there was no solid lid of ice to trap them. Kafei kept a firm hold on Sheik and swam to the surface, gasping for air. His chest and lungs hurt, and the sudden addition of freezing air did nothing to help. They were in a small basin surrounded on all sides by trees. Goddesses knew how far the river had dragged them away from Caldhaven. Would rescue even reach them in time?

He shook his head, deciding to agonise over such things later and began to swim for shore. Sheik's body was light, so he had no trouble dragging him out of the water, even though he couldn't feel his extremities at the moment. At least the wound on his side couldn't be felt at the moment.

He allowed himself to laugh at the situation, it was so absurd. Civil war, magic and monsters and he was going to die from hypothermia. Fucking ridiculous, it was. His breath whistled in his throat, which was trying to close up. He rolled Sheik over on his back and put his ear on his chest, and cursed. He wasn't breathing.

"Come on, you little shit," he whispered and did what Elenwe had taught him to do when someone had nearly drowned. He pressed down on Sheik's chest a number of times-he never could remember how many times he was supposed to do it-and then put his lips to Sheik's and blew, forcing air into his cousin's lungs. Then he continued the compressions, counting wrong a number of times before forcing more air into the lungs. He repeated the process Goddesses knew how many times. He lost count. For all he knew he could have been doing it a hundred or a thousand times. "Come on!" he shouted. "I didn't pull you out of the water so you could drown on fucking land!" He slammed a fist down on Sheik's chest, and a column of water erupted from his mouth followed by deep and raspy coughing. "Hah, good boy," Kafei said and turned him over on his side. "Go on, get the water out."

It took a minute or two, but soon enough every bit of water was expelled, and Sheik lay there breathing heavily.

Shouting voices could be heard in the distance. Link must have returned with help, only to see that they'd gone through the ice and was pursuing them. His teeth chattering, he tried to whistle but it came out as a whine instead. He cleared his throat and tried again, this time succeeding. The shrill tone echoed around them, and the search party seemed to hear it. The voices got louder and lights were appearing from among the trees.

Sheik coughed again and mumbled something, and Kafei looked down. "You okay?" he asked, reaching to pat his shoulder, confident that the Shadow was gone again. His hope was crushed when its eyes opened and the burning orbs regarded him with pure hatred.

 **"I am now,"** it announced reaching out to choke Kafei, but the Sheikah reacted quicker and knocked the Shadow out again with a right hook to its chin.

"Stay down," Kafei said, sitting down next to the abomination and waiting for help, hoping he wouldn't freeze to death in the meantime.

With his luck, though, Elenwe would be leading the party, and then he was as good as dead.

* * *

**Soul Remnants**

**Chapter 76**

* * *

Sheik awoke to find himself in the familiar forest clearing that he'd come to associate with his unwelcome visitor, much to his chagrin. However, he immediately realised that something was different. He was freezing cold, for one, which was new. Speil had always kept the clearing at a very agreeable temperature, sometimes even warmer—perhaps in an attempt to get Sheik to divest himself of his clothing. What exactly that would accomplish, Sheik didn't know. After all, this was simply a visual representation of the inside of Sheik's mind—nothing here was real. Then again, things had become quite physical at times here, and Sheik did not want to think about the implications of giving in to the Shadow here...

...then the memories hit him like a ton of bricks, and he remembered everything that had happened. Angrily storming away from Zelda after learning she was working with Riner—the bastard!—and shrugging off Link's hand with a vicious snarl...finding Kafei and the downright hostile conversation they'd had...and then there was nothing but a blinding pain that had started out as a small ache in his head only to branch out like roots and quickly spread to every part of his body until there was nothing but pure agony and screaming.

He fell to his knees, panting. Just remembering the pain was enough to take the air out of his lungs and make him want to curl up like a child. He fought the instinct to crawl away, however, and cast a glance around the clearing. Speil had done something, and he was going to tell Sheik exactly what it was.

"Where are you?!" he shouted, demanding the Shadow to announce its presence. "Show yourself—skulking around in the bushes is pathetic, even for you!"

He waited for an answer, but it didn't come. His breath came out in small puffs of fog, the air growing colder by the minute. Ice was beginning to form on the tree branches and grass, leaving the previously soft and tickling blades sharp and painful to walk on with his bare feet. The plants and trees briefly twinkled like thousands of diamonds in the afternoon sun, but dark clouds began to cover it up, leaving Sheik standing alone, surrounded by a dreary, frozen and grey forest. The temperature was still dropping, and as he shivered and tried to warm himself up by wrapping his arms around himself and rubbing them he began to wonder if it were possible for him to freeze to death in this place. If he died inside his own mind, what would happen to his body?

He shook his head, trying to banish such thoughts. They could only lead to more trouble. He began to pace around the clearing, but found himself having to stop soon enough—the grass was painful to walk across now, and he would rather not test the limits of this constructed space within his head. Seating himself on the usual stump and trying to ignore his rapidly freezing bum, he stared into the trees ahead. Somewhere out there, the Shadow was watching him, he knew it. What else could Speil be doing, having dragged him back to his place? Perhaps the condition of the clearing was deteriorating because of the seal? He'd felt Speil beginning to breach it like a sharp pain in his back where the tattoo-like mark was located, but perhaps the Shadow had been unable to break it fully, meaning he had been unable to summon Sheik to the clearing as well as keep it remotely hospitable.

He was getting ahead of himself. As far as he knew, the seal was still intact and it was simply the paranoia he'd felt on the airship that had caused him to jump to conclusions. He'd _hated_ it on board _The Chimera_ , any idiot would be able to realise that, and Sheik knew he had a history of, as peasants said, making mountains out of molehills.

 _If only Vorpheus was around to blow up this particular mountain..._ he thought, sighing miserably while also grinning wryly, remembering the feelings outrage and unadulterated shock he'd experienced after the warlock had more or less disintegrated a mountain before his very eyes, effectively poisoning the area around it because of the particular element that had been housed inside the rock—all in an effort to kill or weaken his granddaughter. He'd felt so...insignificant at that moment. Vorpheus and his family operated on a magical level far above anything he'd experienced until then. Was that the kind of power Ganondorf would have achieved had he been able to see his plans to fruition? Would Link have been able to stop him if he'd had?

Again he sighed, though out of frustration this time. He'd always had an errant mind, which he'd worked very hard on controlling for as long as he could remember, but this was ridiculous. It was like he was a child again, before Impa had put him through the intense mental training to prepare him for a lifetime of serving as Zelda's weapon and shield. He supposed he should be glad, knowing that many of the more unpleasant aspects of his previous life were slowly eroding, leaving him able to have what people described as a "normal" life, but at the same time he felt the familiar grip of fear in his chest every time he became aware of it. Being a Sheikah was the only thing he truly knew, and if it all went...then what was he? What could he possibly be?

He clenched his fist and forced himself to focus on scouting the tree line for the Shadow. This was not the time to wax philosophical, damn it! He couldn't afford to lose his self-identity in the middle of...whatever the hell this situation could possibly be described as!

The temperature dropped again, so fast that his breath was practically ripped out of his lungs. He gasped, falling forward off the stump to land on his knees yet again, trying to breathe normally even though it hurt—it was almost as bad as breathing in the smoke from the burning Assassin's Guild in Ironhill. He felt dizzy, most likely from the sudden lack of air, but as his vision began to swim, he became aware of a shape slowly materialising in front of him. He forced himself back on his feet as he saw the humanoid shade slowly solidify into the familiar form of Speil, the twisted and evil mirror image of the Hero of Time. He scowled at Sheik, baring his teeth and growling like an animal. Sheik glared back, clenching his fists, ready to lash out at any second. It was time to get some answers, and he opened his mouth to voice the first one.

"What..."

It died on his lips as the Shadow suddenly gave him a satisfied smirk, and his features began to shift. His height changed, shortening until he stood about as tall as Sheik, if not exactly. His hair grew longer, reaching his shoulders before suddenly being drawn back and tied to a short ponytail, the colour remaining as dead as it had always looked. Sheik's mouth fell open as he realised what Speil was doing, and he repeatedly shook his head in an attempt to dispel it. Speil's clothes changed from the usual garb Link wore until it was a perfect copy in everything but colour of Sheik's exoskeleton, the Sheikah Eye on the tabard an ugly shade of purple rather than the fiery and vivid red he had so proudly displayed. With a sickening sound, Speil's facial features changed until Sheik could have sworn that he was looking at himself through a twisted mirror instead of at the creature that had for so long tried to seduce him.

"...what is the meaning of this?" Sheik finally managed to force out before clenching his jaw. "Why have you done this?!" he demanded, staring at his twisted image, a nightmare he never thought he'd have to experience.

Speil simply smiled cruelly back at him, cocking his head to the side as if confused by the question.

"Answer me!" Sheik bellowed, taking a few steps forward, intending to give the Shadow the beating of his life. He stopped, however, when Speil held out his hands to either side, and he noted with a start that Speil had copied him perfectly, right down to his missing fingers on his left hand. Shadows began to course around Speil's hand, and slowly they took the shape of the blades Kafei had made for him—only...darker, like the copy he had made of the Master Sword.

 **"I have come to a few realisations,"** Speil finally said as he twirled his blades around, appearing fascinated with his own dexterity. Sheik felt his stomach plunge upon realising it was the same series of movements he himself went through when drawing his blades. Speil continued the twirls as he stared at Sheik through his glowing eyes. **"Number one...I am sick of my old form...My Light is incredibly dull."** He grinned. **"Number two...I believe I have found someone I hate even more than him. And number three...I am finally, absolutely, totally, indubitably, without a doubt...over you."** He finished by dropping into Sheik's default combat stance...and with such precision that Sheik almost found himself shrinking back from the sight. It was such a horrifying thing to behold...was this what Link felt every time he gazed upon his dark copy?

"And...and what is that supposed to mean?" Sheik asked, guessing that Speil was referring to Kafei as the person he hated more than Link. "You're over me?"

 **"Exactly,"** Speil said. **"And because of that, I have finally found a way out."**

"The seal," Sheik said. "You can't break it. Only a sorcerer can!"

**"It is strong, yes, stronger than I will ever be...but I have found a way around it. I don't need to break it, I don't even need to escape!"**

Sheik, dreading the answer, said, "Then what are you going to do?"

The Shadow flashed a cruel grin at him. **"Oh, my pet...it is such an easy thing to figure out. Don't you see? Why would I need to escape and manifest a corporeal body of my own when I am already inside one? I have already assumed control on the outside...all I need to do is destroy what is left of your mind and soul...and all that was you will become...me."**

Sheik shook his head, unable to believe what he was hearing. Surely that would not work? The idea was ridiculous—that was not how things worked! One soul—no matter how haggard it was—could not just be snuffed out and replaced like that...could it? And what did Speil mean, that he had already taken control on the outside? The only thing he could remember was being angry and growling at Kafei and...and...

 _No..._ he thought. _Impossible...I would have known, I would have felt..._

The creeping realisation felt as like disgusting insect legs crawling all over his back. Speil was always angry, and while Sheik had to admit that he himself was easy to rile up, he could never imagine working himself into the rage he had felt just before blacking out...not on his own... He stumbled backwards until he felt the stump hit the back his thighs, releasing a shaky breath. Of course...it made perfect sense...

 **"You truly have lost that keen edge your mind had in this place,"** Speil said, chuckling as he took a few steps closer to Sheik. **"Lumina has dulled your senses, weakened you...I cannot understand why I have lusted after you for so long. You are nothing compared to the warrior I first saw in the Water Temple. A weak, pathetic maggot that deserves to be crushed underneath my boot...along with your family and My Light...or, should I say My Former Light? After all, I have a different form now...it is in fact you I can call My—"**

"Shut up!"

Sheik pushed away from the stump and stepped around the Shadow, trying to keep a certain distance between them, ignoring his feet, which were screaming in pain from the cold. His entire body was, actually, and he had a feeling it was only going to get worse from there. More importantly, he was afraid. Very afraid. While his rational mind kept trying to tell him that the...scenario Speil had just told him was impossible, the idea of his identity, his persona, his entire being just getting replaced by Speil's was terrifying to him, not to mention what he imagined the Shadow to be doing with his real-life body at that very instant. Had he attacked Kafei? Wounded him? Killed him?

 **"Fear...you stink of it,"** Speil said, licking his lips. **"Is this so unsettling to you? Perhaps I can ease your fear? It will be over in a flash...just give in and I will simply...slide into place. You won't feel a thing, I promise. Think of it as a parting gift, a last token of the love I once felt for you...and you for me."**

"I never loved you!"

**"Oh, but you did...you told me so yourself...perhaps not in as many words, but you did not resist those times I kissed you...you actually kissed back. It was only your foolish loyalty to the Hero that prevented your happiness in the Forest Temple...and necessitated your death."**

"You have a really warped sense of love, then," Sheik said. "It never involves death!"

**"So you would not die for the ones you love were they in danger? How cruel..."**

"I'd gladly lay down my life for them, but I would never _murder_ them, no matter the reason!"

**"Even if they were infested with something like me? I wonder, will the Hero kill me after I take possession of your husk? It would only be right, would it not, to finish off the shadow that has irrevocably annihilated his love? In his mind he will be killing you, of course...perhaps I shall test his mettle after I finish your meddlesome cousin."**

Sheik hesitated, and that was all Speil needed to quickly close the distance between them and lash out, nearly taking Sheik's head off had it not been for the Sheikah's quick reflexes, diving out of the way. He was back on his feet in less than a second and put even more distance between them now. Speil looked on, amused.

**"You really have no way of winning this fight, pet. I am already in control of most of you. Just lie down and let me finish the job."**

"No," Sheik simply said, intending to be defiant to the last. There was always a way to win a fight. He just needed an edge...a weapon, even. There were no fallen branches to use, however, and nothing of tactical or martial value whatsoever in the clearing. Speil had all the advantages. Hell, even just a pair of boots so Sheik could move normally would be a start...

 _Wait...my mind..._ he thought. _This is my mind. He might control large parts of it but it is still_ my mind _! By now it's too late to force him back with my thoughts alone, but all I need is something to equalise us..._ A small smile came to his lips as he concentrated on a very specific image of himself, and seconds later he felt himself warming considerably. He looked down and saw and felt his exoskeleton and tabard envelop his body. He'd even managed to make himself warm with his thoughts alone! A pair of boots appeared on his feet, and in his hands he found the gifts from Kafei—the proper ones, not the shadowed facsimiles currently in Speil's hands.

He smirked and pulled up his mask. If the Shadow wanted his body, he was damn well going to have to fight for it.

Speil looked almost bored at this new development, but Sheik spotted the uncertain look that had suddenly come to his eyes. It disappeared immediately after, replaced by bravado—though it looked rather false. **"No matter,"** the Shadow said. **"It won't be enough. You are already too weak."** In an action that mirrored Sheik's, he too pulled up his mask.

Ignoring the insult, Sheik refused to give Speil any more time to gloat like a stereotypical villain. He decided to go on the offensive right away and wasted no time charging straight for the Shadow, opening with a practiced flurry of combination attacks. Speil dodged and blocked them all with ease, though it forced him to take a few steps back, his eyes narrowing.

Separating from his opponent, Sheik fell into a defensive stance, his mind analysing and examining what he had learned from that brief attack. First and foremost was the fact that fighting inside his mind was nothing like fighting in the real world. Things didn't feel...right. The blows looked and sounded real, but the impacts had struck him with an uncomfortable sense of...wrongness. It was almost like his subconscious was unaware of what real fights truly felt like and was simply emulating what its owner had experienced over the years. The second thing he'd learned was that Speil was thoroughly skilled when it came to copying someone's fighting style. He had countered and moved just like Sheik would have done in his position. Third, and most important, was connected to the second. Speil was good at imitating, but he wasn't _perfect_. His balance and timing were off, and he hadn't recovered as quickly or instinctually as Sheik would have.

Those three facts were all he needed to know that he had the natural advantage here, and that unless he cocked up in a grand fashion...he was in no true danger.

Speil growled and decided that he would be the attacker this time. His feet slid gracefully across the forest floor, the shadow blades spinning and flurrying in an attempt to confuse Sheik and prevent him from knowing where the strikes would be coming from.

But Sheik had been training in this style for years, and while the weapons involved in this particular fight were longer and more bulky than the daggers he usually used, he had no trouble predicting every stab and slash the Shadow aimed at him. _This is pathetically easy..._ He saw an opening and made to finish the fight immediately, but halfway through his strike a thought occurred to him. _Too easy..._

He twisted his wrist so that the fatal stab turned into a painful cut instead. Speil either didn't feel the pain or refused to acknowledge it.

Sheik jumped away from the Shadow immediately, the idea that had struck him and subsequently seeded doubts in his mind already taking hold. His eyes grew wide as the Shadow laughed, the wound in his side immediately closing, leaving no sign that the ashen skin had ever been split in any fashion.

Speil chuckled. **"I suppose there are a few details I have neglected to mention."**

Sheik scowled. "I knew you were holding back...and no wonder. Can I even kill you here, or will you simply regrow your head if I cut it off?"

 **"A good question to which I know not the answer,"** Speil answered, shrugging. **"I do not know half the things I am able to do while I am in control...but it will be a delight to find out."** He fell back into the combat stance, approaching Sheik slowly. **"The only question is: will** _ **you**_ **regrow yours?"**

He gave Sheik no time to answer, suddenly appearing in the Sheikah's face and lashing out with every bit of speed and strength he had come to associate with the Shadow. The constant feeling that this fight was happening in the wrong way kept throwing off his focus, and he was barely able to keep up with ferocity of Speil's attacks. The hubris and confidence Sheik had felt mere seconds ago melted away and were replaced by fear and apprehension and the knowledge that, even on his best day, this battle would not be easily won.

Gritting his teeth, Sheik continued to defend against the barrage of blows that threatened to tear his swords out of his hands. _Good thing I always enjoyed a challenge,_ he told himself, even though the face confidence he'd summoned was wavering and threatening to disappear any second. He just needed _one_ opportunity, one single window...

Then Speil made a mistake. He moved one of his feet too early, and nearly tripped over the other. Sheik saw it, took a step back and leaned forward, centring his weight on his shoulder. Then he moved forward, between Speil's rapidly moving blades and slammed his shoulder into the Shadow's chest, the momentum sending him sprawling backwards as he finally lost his balance. He landed on his back with a grunt, losing his grip on the sword in his left hand. Sheik was barely aware that the weapon didn't re-materialise, his attention focused on trying to batter away the other one, which Speil had raised to defend his prone position from the Sheikah above him.

 _Damn, he's fast..._ Sheik thought. Even with just the one blade, Speil had no trouble defending himself from Sheik's slashes and stabs, parrying them with ease and rolling out of the way when he couldn't block them. Not even a swiftly aimed kick at his bollocks fazed Speil, and Sheik realised too late what a mistake it was as Speil caught his leg between his and twisted, pulling Sheik sideways and onto the ground. He lost the grip of his defensive blade, felt it spin away.

They both got back to their feet at the same time, each armed with only a single blade this time. For a moment Sheik wondered why Speil simply didn't call back his other one, but then the Shadow went through the familiar motions, eyes widening when it apparently didn't work. Was it because he was too distracted by the fight? Sheik tried to do the same, to no effect.

"I can kill you easily with just one sword," Sheik boasted, knowing that Speil would be unnerved by the sudden loss of control. "Can you say the same about me?"

 **"I don't need to, you already know what I am capable of,"** Speil replied, looking pointedly at Sheik's chest. **"I am just curious whether or not I will be able to hit the exact same spot as before..."**

He knew he shouldn't rise to the bait, but just remembering the pain he'd felt that night, and the panic in Link's voice upon seeing Sheik getting run through...something snapped and he found himself charging at the Shadow with a loud battle cry, weapon raised for a crushing overhead blow. Speil whipped up his own weapon to defend, gasping when he was nearly forced back by the weight behind the attack.

"Die!" Sheik roared, letting go of the sword with his left hand and aiming a vicious left hook at the Shadow's chin. Speil tried to twist out of the way, but the blow caught him right in the nose, which broke with a sickening crack and sent the Shadow stumbling away. Sheik gave him no respite, following closely with an intend to stab him in the back, but Speil was prepared for that and, while groaning from the pain of his broken nose, spun around with a roundhouse kick that hit the side of Sheik's head. Vision swimming, Sheik let go of his sword to cradle his head, which felt like it had just been kicked by a horse. Whatever Speil lacked in technique was more than made up for in strength, Sheik realised as he sank to his knees lest he wanted to fall over.

 **"Your fighting style is far more versatile,"** Speil said, his voice sounding like it came from a million directions at once, a result of the dizziness Sheik was feeling. **"The Hero could never pull a manoeuvre like that. Argh!"** He groaned, most likely straightening his nose by the loud crack that preceded it. **"I am going to have a lot of fun with your body, pet."**

Shuddering from the double meaning of the phrase, Sheik forced himself to stand up, focusing on the Shadow. "You won't have the time," he muttered. "Kafei and Link will kill you before you take a single step."

 **"They will not have the guts to do so,"** Speil said mockingly, twirling his remaining sword. **"They will insist on finding a way to bring you back...only they will discover there is nothing left of you. It will devastate them both...and then I will allow them to die."** He pointed the tip of his blade at Sheik. **"One final chance, pet. Surrender and I will make it painless."**

"No," Sheik said resolutely.

 **"Do not be foolish,"** Speil said, growling. **"You have no weapon, you are barely able to stand. I have all the advantages. Just be a good boy and let me in...let me absorb you."**

It was said with such a friendly tone, like Speil would be doing him a kindness. It made Sheik nauseous, and only filled him with even more certainty that he could not lose this fight. He grimaced, his vision finally steadying and allowing him to see the Shadow clearly. Speil could make all the grand statements he wanted, it didn't change the fact he was clearly getting winded from the fight. The strain of controlling both the physical body and trying to destroy the psyche of its owner was clearly taking its toll. If Sheik could extend the fight, perhaps Speil would be forced to give up by his own fatigue?

It was a good thing hand to hand combat had been one of the things Impa had focused the most on during his training, saying that one should never have to rely on having a weapon whenever danger reared its ugly head. True, he hadn't fought unarmed in a while, and he was slightly unsure if his punches with his left hand would be as effective given his lack of digits—even if the left hook had clearly had its intended effect—but what other choice did he have? Besides, fighting like this was all about muscle memory.

Taking a deep breath, he fixed Speil with a pointed look and dropped into the most basic stance he knew. It was time to gauge just how much of his skills Speil had adopted.

The Shadow snorted, twirling his remaining blade once more. **"One thing hasn't changed about you,"** he said. **"You're still as stubborn as a mule. Very well, I tried to be nice. Now I will be forced to extend the torment as much as I can."**

 _Not if I break your neck first,_ Sheik thought, preparing himself.

Speil came fast, intending to end things immediately. A diagonal swing that would cleave Sheik from his left shoulder to his right hip was his chosen attack, and knowing the Shadow's strength, Sheik had no doubt that would happen if the blow connected. He had no intention of letting that happen, however. He waited until the last possible moment and stepped to the left, barely ducking underneath the sword and out of harm's way. In the same motion he grabbed hold of Speil's wrist and pulled as hard as he could, using his own momentum against him. He twisted the Shadow's wrest, eliciting an annoyed grunt and causing him to drop the weapon, which immediately evaporated upon its separation from its master.

"So much for your weapon," Sheik said, feeling cocky. It had been so easy to disarm the Shadow.

Speil chuckled. **"I do not need a blade to kill you, pet."**

"And neither do I," Sheik said, spinning around and kicking Speil in the chest. The Shadow stumbled back, coughing and holding the injured area. Sheik gave him no time to rest, following the initial kick with a series of well-practiced punches meant to force an opponent on the defensive. It worked reasonably well, though Speil blocked every single one of them.

_So he has the basics down...all right, let's take things up a notch._

He continued attacking, adding more and more advanced techniques, desperately trying to find a vulnerability in the Shadow's defence, but Speil showed no signs of worry, easily blocking the attacks like they were nothing.

It was like fighting Impa in their practice space all over again! Never had he been able to land a clean blow on his aunt, and it was quickly starting to seem like he wouldn't be able to do it to Speil either.

Then he made a mistake, forgot a crucial step in one of his combos. Speil sidestepped a punch and, before Sheik could react, kneed him right in the stomach. The blow knocked the breath out of him and sent spasms all the way through his body, temporarily paralysing him as he fell on the ground on all fours, gasping. A blinding pain in his side knocked him over as Speil kicked him again, the tip of his boot hitting Sheik right in the bundle of nerves just underneath his ribcage, sending another series of spasms through his body.

 **"I always imagined you like this, gasping for breath and writhing under my touch,"** Speil said as he slowly circled him. **"Though in a wholly different context, of course. I wonder if such a thing would be possible in here..."**

Sheik fought against every instinct that told him to curl up and wait until the pain went away and kicked out with his legs in Speil's direction, managing to snake them around a shin, and rolled. The sudden move cut Speil off mid-sentence and had him give a surprised grunt as his back hit the ground. Sheik, still unable to stand up, crawled over and began whaling into the prone shadow, trying to do as much damage as possible before Speil recovered, which was all too soon. Sheik barely managed to land a few blows before Speil rolled out of the way and viciously punched Sheik in the face, reversing their role as the Shadow began his own barrage.

There was no finesse or techniques involved now. Both fighters knew they were equally matched in that regard, and now it was just a matter of trying to beat the other into submission as quick as possible. They rolled around on the frozen forest floor, biting, kicking, punching and gouging at everything they could reach. Sheik felt like his entire head was about to explode from the numerous hits he'd taken to his temples, but he was sure to give as good as he got by hooking his finger in one of the Shadow's eye sockets and pulling and pushing. Speil howled in pain and brought his forehead crashing down on the bridge of Sheik's nose. Stars erupted in Sheik's vision, feeling the bone in his face bending and breaking. Not thinking, Sheik did the only thing he could do right then and lifted his head, closing his teeth around Speil's own nose and biting as hard as he could. The metallic scent and taste of blood flooded his senses, and it took another punch to his celiac plexus for his jaws to open. He was certain he felt something detach from the other's form, though he was practically blinded by the blood flowing into his eye by now. He kicked out, his knee catching Speil in the side and sent him sprawling sideways.

Sheik tried to straddle him, intending to prevent him from doing anything, but Speil reacted too quickly, rolling over and taking hold of his left arm, twisting it backwards until it snapped. Sheik screamed in agony, but another bash to his jaw from Speil cut him off. Blinking and still seeing stars, his blurry vision saw Speil sitting on him, the exact opposite of Sheik's intention. His left arm was useless, caught under him and sending pure agony through him every time the weight on it shifted. Speil was holding his other arm down and used his weight to keep his legs in place. The Shadow's mask had been ripped off long ago, and the tie keeping his hair back was gone, allowing the grey—nearly white—hair to cascade around his head. His nose was missing a chunk of meat, courtesy of Sheik's teeth and his entire face and front was covered in blood. He grinned.

 **"I win,"** he said, out of breath. **"Yield."**

"Fuck you!" Sheik yelled, spitting at him.

 **"Such a sore loser."** Speil shook his head. **"Oh well...any last words?"** he asked, leaning down until his face was inches from Sheik's. **"Or...last requests?"**

Desperately trying to find a way out of the situation, Sheik looked around. It couldn't end here, not like this, absorbed by the creature he'd been tormented by ever since the incident at Lake Hylia! He spotted nothing that could help him, and in the corner his eye he could see Speil's wound slowly heal, the torn flesh around his nose knitting itself closed, the chunk of meat magically growing out. It was so unfair!

The stump. They were lying right next to it, and it had a knotty, sharp-looking mass of bark on its side. There was no plan behind it, it was just an opportunity. Before Speil realised what was happening, Sheik slammed his forehead into the Shadow's healing nose, repaying him for the earlier head-butt. Speil reared back, losing his grip on Sheik's right arm. He seized the opportunity and sat up, grabbing the side of the Shadow's head and smashed it against the stump, screaming bloody murder all the while. Three times. Thud. Thud. Thud. Speil grew slacker with each blow, and Sheik put all his remaining strength in the last hit, pushing the limp body off himself and scrambling away, only getting a few feet before his body failed him.

Speil groaned, arms and legs twitching. The stump was covered in his blood.

Sheik lay on the ground, catching his breath and feeling every wound he'd received screaming at the abuse. He was still lying on his arm, barely able to summon the strength to roll off it. The useless limb flopped about; it would have looked comical had it not been so unbelievably painful. And it was all happening in _his head_! It wasn't even real, for Goddesses' sake, though it sure as hell felt it.

Realising that he was not out of danger yet, Sheik took a deep breath and forced himself onto his knees, barely able to keep himself from falling over due to the intense feeling of nausea and dizziness. An unbidden idea came to him, and in his currently nearly delirious shape it was the one that made the most sense. He slowly crawled over to Speil, whose eyes were closed tight in a show of intense pain, his hands cradling the side of his head, which was slick with blood. His wounds had stopped healing, which gave Sheik a small sense of triumph. He went for his original plan and straddled the prone Shadow, looking down at the barely-conscious copy of himself.

"You want to absorb me?" Sheik asked, his words coming out slurred from the exhaustion and pain. The idea didn't make any sense whatsoever, and he doubted strongly that it would work, but it was his only idea, and the fight had to end _now_. "How about _I_ absorb _you_?"

Speil's eyes slammed open, the glowing depths staring up at him in disbelief. **"You...wouldn't..."** he said, sounding just as exhausted and slurred as Sheik had. **"You'll...kill us both..."**

"Rather that than let you continue like this," Sheik said, grabbing Speil's chin and forcing him to look at him. He gave neither of them any more time to think about the idiocy of the plan and leaned down, capturing the Shadow's lips with his own in a painful, heated and hate-filled kiss.

Speil struggled, but he became weaker by the second as his strength was sapped away. Sheik gasped as he physically felt something entering his body, briefly fighting for dominance though it was quickly suppressed. Then there was only pain, blinding and paralysing pain and a force that nearly sent him flying from Speil, landing on his back a few feet away. Dark tendrils snaked their way from the Shadow's body to his own, wrapping themselves around his arms and legs and torso. Their touch was freezing, even colder than the frozen landscape around them, and he could _feel_ the dark magic emanating from Speil's body, travelling through the tendrils and into Sheik. He panicked—had he thought wrong? Was Speil taking him over?

_No, no, no..._

It couldn't. Speil howled in pain as his body began to fade into nothing, his essence dissolving into those tendrils, all of him slowly being absorbed by the Sheikah. The tendrils began to fade next, shortening and disappearing beneath Sheik's skin in a manner that had him revolted, looking like fat worms gliding inside him.

Then it was over. The pain began to fade, and his wounds closed up, leaving him looking no worse for wear than he had upon entering the clearing. His arm was no longer broken.

 _It...it worked?_ he dared to think, a small smile spreading on his lips. "I...beat him," he whispered. "I finally beat him. And now he's gone, forever!"

His elation was short-lived, for a sudden, white-hot lance of pain shot through his stomach, feeling like a hot ball of lead had been put inside him. He gasped, holding his sides as a feeling of decay and death slowly began to spread through him. Terror filled him when he saw that the skin in the areas affected were turning the same ashen colour of Speil's, and his hair followed suit when the feeling reached his head.

 _I failed...he's...taking me over from the inside,_ he thought, apathy and hopelessness filling him to the brim. _I...tried, at least. That counts for something does it not?_

He waited, noticing that his entire body now looked exactly like the copy Speil had made. He didn't want to know if his eyes had begun to glow as well. It was only a matter of time, surely. Soon enough, that monstrous presence would appear and destroy what was left of him—his mind, his thoughts his soul...all gone and replaced by the monster. Just a few seconds now, he was sure of it...

...nothing else happened.

Opening his eyes, he looked around the clearing. It was getting warmer, the ice melting. The clouds above were disappearing, allowing the sun to shine down upon him again. Sheik looked at the blood-covered stump, imagining how it had looked before, when things had been...amicable between him and the Shadow. He blinked. The blood was gone!

"I'm in control," he whispered, standing up for what felt like the hundredth time that day. "I absorbed him...he fought back...but I won, and am in control." He didn't know why he was saying it out loud, but it felt damn good to announce it, even if it was only to himself. "My mind is my own!"

It was the last thing he remembered saying before he felt something tugging at the back of his mind, the familiar pull of the real world trying to drag him back. He closed his eyes and did not struggle, feeling the clearing, and everything in it disappear.

And then there was silence.

* * *

**Soul Remnants**

**Chapter 77**

* * *

Cold. So very cold.

Sheik's eyes slammed open, his vision blurred as he felt the coarse fabric of the multiple blankets he'd been wrapped up in, the memories of the vicious fight with Speil hitting him all at once. He sat up abruptly—or tried to. Something was keeping him restrained to what he assumed was a cot or a bed, preventing him from moving his arms or legs. His eyesight began to clear up, and he realised he was inside some sort of building, the ceiling overhead wooden and covered in cobwebs.

He shivered, the cold felt like it was seeping into his bones. He could still feel the pain from the injuries Speil had given him, but none of them seemed to have been physical—it had all happened in his head.

"You're awake."

The voice was flat, its owner revealing no emotions whatsoever. Sheik turned his head and saw Ard standing next to the bed, glaring down at him.

Surprised, Sheik was only able to say, "Yes," in return.

Ard shook his head, his eyes shining in the light from the lamp on the bedside table. "The question is, are you you?"

Sheik blinked. "What is that supposed to mean?" he asked.

"What do you think it means?" Ard shot back, eyes narrowing as he regarded Sheik.

"I am in no mood to play games," Sheik growled, struggling against whatever was keeping him underneath the mountain of blankets. "Why can't I move? Why have I been restrained?"

"Don't struggle, it will only make them tighter," Ard warned him, though Sheik ignored him and continued shuffling, trying to at least gauge where exactly he was being held in place. He gasped when he suddenly felt a heavy weight settle down upon his limbs, preventing him from even moving his fingers. A wave of magical energy washed over his senses, and he realised that the warlock was keeping him in place with magic, a thin sheen of sweat covering Ard's face. "I told you," Ard pointed out, raising an eyebrow.

"What. Is. Going. On?" Sheik asked, clenching his jaw, his patience with the rude boy wearing thin. "Where am I, and why have you locked me to this bed?"

"You do not remember?" Ard asked.

"Remember what?" Sheik asked, his head pounding. The only thing he could remember was the fight with Speil, nothing before other than a sense of overwhelming anger and hate, directed at... "Oh, Goddesses," he whispered.

"You remember now? Perhaps you can answer my question, then. Are you you?"

"Why do you keep asking that? Of course I'm me!" Sheik exclaimed. "What, do I look like a shadow to you?"

He regretted the question immediately when Ard frowned, seemingly unsure of whether or not to really answer the question. An idea came to him, apparently, and he went for the nightstand, opening a drawer and pulling out an object. A handheld mirror. He looked hesitant, looking from Sheik to the mirror and back to Sheik, eventually shrugging. "You asked," he said and held it to Sheik's face.

Sheik's heart sunk. Whatever had happened to him in the nightmare seemed to have had an effect in the real world as well. Staring back at him through the mirror was an exact copy of Speil in his imitation of Sheik. His skin was pale and grey like the dead, his hair a shade of white that'd blind someone in direct sunlight, and his eyes dark crimson, the colour of blood. Even though his eyes lacked the terrible glow that had emanated from behind Speil's, the ruby-coloured orbs that had once marked him as a member of the Sheikah now only reminded him of the monster that had possessed him...and which he had decided to absorb.

No wonder Ard didn't trust him. For all he knew, Sheik had been replaced by the monster he had felt within him the second he had arrived in Riveth's camp so many months ago. He had even warned him against it, told him it was dangerous.

 _He's probably just waiting for a sign of possession so he can incinerate me and be done with it,_ Sheik thought, studying the young warlock wearily and warily. "What do you think?" he asked.

"Pardon?" Ard asked, using Sheik's own phrase in a role-reversal that would have been funny had it not been for the gravity of the situation.

"Who...or what do you think I am?" Sheik elaborated. "Am I the Shadow, or am I Sheik?"

"That's not for me to decide," Ard said, shaking his head and placing the mirror on the nightstand. "It is for you to prove. Until I know for certain that you have not been possessed, you will not leave that bed."

Already exhausted from the amount of words coming from the usually stoic boy, Sheik closed his eyes and rested his head on the hard pillow under his head. "And how can I do that?" he asked, groaning as another wave of phantom pain hit him.

Ard drew a breath to answer his question, but the sound of a door opening interrupted him, and Lor's voice filled the room.

"We have to do something about Angen," Lor said. Sheik opened his eyes and tried to crane his head to see the former assassin, but the pile of blankets obscured his view. "He's about to pass out but refuses to take rest. Whatever happened up in the air has clearly done something to him, but what could have been so awful—"

"He's awake," Ard said, interrupting Lor before he could start babbling.

"What?" A gasp came from the other boy.

"He. Is. Awake," Ard repeated, enunciating every word like an adult trying to teach a child to speak.

"When?" Lor demanded, ignoring Ard's mocking.

"Just now."

"Sheik?"

Lor's worried face came into view on the other side of the bed, his face flushed and cheeks red, either from exertion or the cold outside. Judging by his sweat-slicked hair, Sheik guessed the former. What had the young warlock-in-training been doing? "Sheik?" he asked again. "Is that you? Or are you the Shadow? If you are, how did you break the seal?"

"It didn't break the seal," Ard said, huffing with annoyance. "It was intact, remember? Whatever it did, it did so without its interference."

Lor shot him a glare, focusing his attention entirely on Sheik. "Can you hear me?" he nearly shouted.

"Quite well," Sheik replied, rolling his eyes. "I was possessed, but it didn't damage my hearing."

"Sorry," Lor said, his cheeks getting even redder from the blush of embarrassment. "You didn't say anything, so I got worried you'd gone deaf, or something. How are you feeling?"

"Cold...head hurts...body aches," Sheik said, feeling like an old man with old war wounds and tricky knees.

"No wonder you're cold," Lor said, grinning a little. "Taking a swim underneath the ice tends to do that—don't worry, you were pulled out in time to counteract the hypothermia, you won't lose any limbs or digits."

"Swim? Ice?" Sheik asked.

"It's a long story," Lor said. "It began with—"

"How he got here is irrelevant to the question at hand," Ard said. "Has he been possessed?"

"Good question," Lor said, looking at Ard and then at Sheik. "Have you?"

"No," Sheik replied. "I was, but I fought him back. I won."

"Then why do you still look like...that?" Lor asked, taking a step back.

"I don't know," Sheik lied, knowing that saying exactly what had happened in his mind would only make him even more suspicious. If he told them he'd absorbed...assimilated Speil, how would they interpret it? It was hardly an everyday occurrence... "Maybe the change in my appearance is permanent," he suggested, hoping to the Goddesses it wasn't true. The last thing he wanted was to look like this for the rest of his life. It was bad enough having to live with the knowledge of everything Speil had done, but to be reminded of him every time he looked at himself in mirror, or even glanced at his hands?

"Hm," Ard grunted, clearly not convinced. He looked tired—the strain of the magic bindings holding Sheik to the bed was clearly taking its toll on him.

"Are you okay?" Lor asked, looking concerned, reaching out to touch the warlock, but his hand was batted away.

"Fine," he muttered, turning away from them and stalking out of Sheik's view. He heard rustling and the sound of pages turning. "Going to look for something that can identify him."

"Don't you think that book's done enough?" Lor asked, looking at Ard with apprehension. "Or you?"

"He's awake," Ard said, ignoring the question. "Might want to tell the Hero."

"Right," Lor said, a hurt look flashing over his face, though it was replaced in an instant by one of determination. He looked down at Sheik. "I'm going to get Link. If anyone can tell it's you, it'll be him."

"Does he know?" Sheik asked before Lor could move. "Does he know...what I look like?"

Lor hesitated, but nodded. "It...would have been difficult to keep it from him. He...didn't take it well." Lor turned to leave, paused as if he just thought of something, but decided not to say anything else and left. The door slammed shut, a heavy lock clicking loudly as it slid into place.

Sheik sighed, staring up at the ceiling, a fire burning in the pit of his stomach. He was angry. Angry at Speil for being the root of every single problem of his for the past year and a half, angry at himself for having gotten himself involved with the Shadow in the first place, angry at Ard for tying him up like this and being his usual self, angry at Lor for...existing... Everything. He was angry at everything, and that worried him because he'd always focused his anger on the things that deserved it, and losing that control was...infuriating. He bit his lips, fighting back a growl of annoyance. What was wrong with him?

"Going to tell me what happened now?" Ard asked, his face appearing above him again.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Sheik spat, unable to keep the anger from brimming over now. His face burned.

"Something's changed about you, but not just your appearance," the warlock explained. "You practically radiate anger...it flows from you like pitch. It would burn black if one set fire to it, I'm sure. There's something you're not telling us, and if you don't explain that within the next couple of seconds, I will _make_ you."

"Are you threatening me?" Sheik growled.

"You're damn right I'm threatening you," Ard said, leaning in close enough for the warmth of his breath washing over Sheik's face. "I told you when we first met that if something happened to her, I would hold you and the Shadow responsible. She never came back from your little joyride, and no one will bloody tell me what happened to her—and I'm taking my frustration out on you...and you will tell me, or I will make life a living hell for you, Shadow or not!"

Sheik couldn't help but feel a bit triumphant that he'd managed to get under the boy's skin that much, a feeling that was alien and unnatural to him and yet...so satisfying. "I don't think I've ever heard you speak so much in such a short amount of time. I wonder what the occasion is..."

Ard's eyes flashed with anger, and the bonds holding Sheik tightened considerably, almost to the point of being painful, though it promised that the warlock could inflict a vast amount of torment with them. "Tell me," he hissed.

"Why don't you ask Angen?" Sheik said.

Ard was so close to the breaking point now, just one more barbed comment and he would make good on his threat. Sheik could not help but wonder, however, if the boy truly had it in him to be so cruel...he was also puzzled by why he was enjoying taunting the warlock so much. He had lost his twin and, just now, his adoptive mother though no one clearly had the heart to tell him yet, and Sheik was...having fun? It made him feel ill, and all he wanted was to apologise to the warlock, but his jaw would not move, preventing him from uttering the words that would definitely defuse the ticking time bomb the uncertainty had made Ard.

The lock clicked again, and the door was opened, two pairs of footsteps entering the room.

"What's going on?" Lor's voice asked.

"Nothing," Ard replied, reigning in his anger and standing up straight. "Just trying to discern."

"Discern what?" Link's voice asked, the sound of filling Sheik with relief and...the tiniest amount of ire? Why?

"The reason you were brought here," Ard simply said. "Lor told you?"

"Yeah, but I don't see—"

"Take a look at him and then say you don't understand," Ard interrupted him, waving a hand in Sheik's direction, giving the bedridden Sheikah a dangerous look.

"Fine, geez."

Sheik expected relief, happiness and longing in the Hero's eyes when they met. What he was greeted with was suspicion. It killed the fire in his stomach completely, to see such a look directed at him from _Link_ , of all people.

"Sheik?" the Hero asked hesitantly.

"Link," Sheik replied, feeling slightly numb.

"I...er..." He hesitated, beginning his sentence several times before giving up. He'd clearly prepared some sort of speech, but it was failing him now that he was seeing what his lover looked like, the spitting image of his arch-nemesis, only now in the shape of Sheik. "Are you okay?"

The banality of the question punctured the tension, and Sheik couldn't help but grin. "What sort of thing is that to ask?"

Link flushed. "The kind of thing to ask when I'm worried about you?" he suggested. "You explode at me and Zelda, chew off Kafei's ear before... _it_ takes control and you try to kill him? Is that not reason enough to ask that question?"

Sheik's eyes widened. "I attacked Kafei?"

"Yeah, don't you remember? You nearly got him, too. Good thing it was just a flesh wound. One inch deeper and you'd have nicked something important!"

Sheik had no answer to that, only a disbelieving stare. He'd attacked Kafei? Was that why Speil had told him that he hated the other Sheikah _more_ than Link? To gloat? Maybe he was going to describe the deed as he performed it? No...it was all mind games in the end, wasn't it? Or was it? Even thinking about it was making Sheik's head hurt even more.

"You don't have to worry," Link said, interpreting his silence. "The wound wasn't serious, and it's not even going to slow him down. And he's not angry, he just..."

"Just?" Sheik asked.

"...he probably won't want to see you for a little while..." Link said, shrugging awkwardly.

"Great. One damn blood relative left in the world and he hates my guts...great news, thanks for that! Anything _useful_ you want to tell me?!" He had no idea where those words came from, only that they were said with such a vehement tone that it made him shudder inwardly, and the surprised and hurt look on Link's face made it ten times worse.

"He doesn't hate you, he just hates the Shadow—"

"If Sheik is even still alive," Ard shot in.

"Shut up!"

It wasn't as much the words as it was the tone, as well as the sudden movement that had Sheik sitting up in the bed, the bonds unable to restrain him as he glared at Ard with fierce eyes, lips curled back in a snarl that turned into a wild grin upon seeing the momentary flash of fear in Ard's eyes as well as the exhaustion evident in his stance. Sheik tried to say something more, but then he was suddenly pulled back onto the bed, bonds so tight that it felt like they were cutting into his skin. He tried to protest, but it was like his words were muffled as soon as they left his mouth. He tried to thrash against his bonds, but now the only thing he could move was his head, and all he could see was either the ceiling or Link's...face...

The Hero turned around and left the room, and Sheik all but deflated, panting from the exertion and feeling like, just that moment, something had changed between them forever...

* * *

Link only got as far as the front door of the building before he had to sit down, his nerves shot. A handy crate stood on the floor nearby, and he released a shaky breath as he sat on it, trying to process what he had just seen inside that room. He heard the door open and close behind him, but did not look at Lor until the ex-assassin crouched in front of him, concern written all over his face.

"Link?" he asked.

"It's not him," Link said, shuddering. "It's not...it's not Sheik."

"How do you know?" Lor asked. "Until he got angry, he seemed pretty...Sheik-y to me."

"Acting," Link spat. "You saw the look in his eyes...I've never seen Sheik like that. And the...anger, the hate..." He stood up and began pacing the room, eyes wide and searching.

"He just seemed very angry to me," Lor said, nervously fidgeting with his hands. "I mean, are you sure you're not just assuming things because he happens to look like—"

"That's the other thing!" Link exclaimed. "Why does he look like it?"

"Well, that's the physical manifestation of his possession, but he acted completely different when fighting his cousin," Lor said. "He said he was all...animalistic, acting like a beast. The person in the bed...well, he's _angry_ , but wouldn't you be after being told everything he was?"

"Sheik doesn't like to show that he's angry," Link said, evidently calming down a little as he began to think more carefully about the situation. The knee-jerk reaction he'd had to the sudden outburst earlier had made him blind to logic, it seemed, but still... "He'll gladly show you he's annoyed and tell you how much of an idiot you are, but he doesn't...he doesn't explode, not like that. And you told me before you brought me in—he feels all...weird."

"Yes, but that might just be because I am so inexperienced with magic," Lor said, touching the tattoo on his face, brushing his fingers against the inked skin. "Ard's been teaching me, but it's slow going and I've only just learned how to sense innate magic..." He sighed. "But yes...he feels strange compared to everyone else..."

Link groaned, feeling like punching the wall. Why did everything have to turn out like this? "Ard said the seal would hold. Why didn't it hold?" he asked quietly.

"The seal did hold," Lor said. "Or so he told me. The Shadow just...found a way to bypass it. It's like...it didn't try to break free, it just decided to take control of Sheik instead."

"It didn't protect him from that?"

"Don't look at me, I wasn't there, remember?" Lor shook his head, trying not to upset Link any further. "The only person who can answer that is Ard, I think, but I don't think even he knows. That book...whoever wrote it was immensely powerful, but very cryptic about the spells. The only thing we know for sure is that the seal prevented the Shadow from escaping, like it was originally meant to."

"Yeah...I'm sorry," Link said, looking at the younger boy. "I don't mean to blame you or anything, but...I just..." Tears of frustration shone in the Hero's eyes, and he was forced to turn away from Lor because he didn't want to be seen crying. They spelled over, however, when the ex-assassin's arms encircled him from behind, hugging him tight. "Why did it have to be Sheik?" he asked, voice trembling. "Why couldn't it have been me?"

"I don't know," Lor answered. "But I'm sure Sheik wouldn't trade it for the world...because I think he knows that he's been keeping you safe from it all this time."

"I've beaten it before, I could beat it again and again until it died."

"Not if it truly did latch onto Sheik like it did..."

They separated, and Lor was happy to see that Link had calmed down.

"So...what now?" the Hero asked, wiping the remaining tears from his cheeks.

Lor shrugged. "We...question him some more, try to figure out whether or not it's truly Sheik or the Shadow in there." He paused, and gave Link a stern look. "And don't let his appearance fool you."

"What do you mean?" Link asked.

"I have a theory," Lor admitted, sitting down on the same crate Link had previously occupied. "When he woke, Shei— _he_ said that he'd fought the Shadow and won, pushing it back."

"Yeah?" Link looked hopeful.

"But...I don't think such a thing would be possible, at that stage," Lor continued, still piecing together the theory as he spoke. It was difficult, to think on the fly like this concerning something so important, but oddly refreshing. "If the Shadow has reached the stage where it can just...seize control like it did, and change Sheik's body into a representation of itself..." he trailed off, still unsure of where he was going with it. "I don't think it would let itself be banished again. In fact, I don't think Sheik beat it back at all, but..."

"But...?" Link said, eyes wide and hanging onto every word Lor was saying.

"If the Shadow wanted control, it would need it to be absolute...and that would mean absolutely destroying everything Sheik is and was...his personality, his soul, his mind, memories, everything...gone. But I can't imagine Sheik abiding that."

"No, he wouldn't," Link said firmly. "He'd fight back with everything he had."

"Right, but if the Shadow could not be pushed back, then he would, essentially, need to do the same to it right back."

Link paused. "What are you saying?"

"If Sheik won the fight inside his mind, he would have done the same to the Shadow that it was trying to do to him," Lor concluded, his heart skipping a beat. "But he wouldn't know how to do that, or he wouldn't be able to since their life forces are so heavily intertwined. The only thing he'd be able to do was...oh, gods..."

Link said nothing, but his face told Lor that he'd arrived at the same conclusion as he.

"Assimilation," Lor breathed. "He took everything that was the Shadow's and made it his..."

"Even his...anger?" the Hero asked.

"I can't know for sure, but it's a possibility that the event caused Sheik's entire...being, personality, to change as well. He would be exhibiting traits of both his old self and the Shadow..."

"So...he's both Sheik _and_ Speil?" Link asked, mouth open.

Lor, just as horrified by the possibility as the Hero, nodded dumbly. "It's possible...but it's only a theory," he was quick to point out. "I could very well be as wrong as humanly possible on this."

"But..." Link began, looking hesitant. "If Sheik could have absorbed the Shadow...could it have done the same to him?"

"I...suppose so," Lor admitted. "It's not something I'd like to think about, but...yes. The only question is, if such a thing has occurred, which will be the dominant traits?"

Link looked at the door, dreading what was inside. If Lor's theory was true, was there anything left of the old Sheik? Would their relationship be able to take it? Would there even be a relationship to begin with? His head was spinning with the many thoughts that were trying to get his attention at the same time, and his heart was pounding wildly. Why? Why? Why? Why did it always happen to _them_?! Wasn't the war with Ganondorf enough? The Delta Force? Bloody Vorpheus and his bloody family? It seemed that every time they cleared one obstacle there was another, even bigger one waiting just behind it. It was like the Goddesses themselves didn't want them to be together! Was this another hint, albeit unsubtle?

Link felt like another set of weights had been added to his shoulders, and he was positive this would be ones to break him. Maybe it was time to stop before either of them got irreparably hurt? Or had it already happened. When Sheik had died the first time—such an odd thing to say or think about—and come back to life, Link had been sure it was a sign that they were meant to be together always, but now...maybe it was the first clue in a long line of them trying to point out that their relationship was, at the end of it all, an abomination that the Goddesses couldn't abide?

Maybe it was time to end it...and just let things happen?

"What are you thinking?" Lor asked suddenly, having studied the Hero's face closely as he'd pondered. "Want to go back in?"

"Yeah," Link said, nodding weakly. He needed to speak to Sheik...or was it Speil? He needed to speak to _him_ once more, and find out exactly what they were dealing with. If it was as he and Lor feared...he'd take it as a sign. He looked at Lor. "Let's go."

Every step he took towards the door filled him with fear and trepidation. He was afraid of what he might find in there...but at the same time, it would end the infuriating uncertainty that was plaguing him. And that had to be worth something, regardless of what the outcome would be.

Right?

* * *

**Soul Remnants**

**Chapter 78**

* * *

"Do you _have_ to do that?" Kafei asked irritably. "You're giving me a headache."

Elenwe looked at him from where she was practicing. She was dressed in a Luminan uniform quickly scavenged from somewhere she wouldn't tell and was wielding a wooden stick like a sword. Her real one was in its sheath, leaning against the wall. Her face was covered in a thin sheen of sweat from the exertion of going through the movements that had up until recently been ingrained into her by years of practice. The torture at the hands of the assassins in Ironhill and the subsequent loss of her arm had put a wrench in her works, however, and she had realised during the battle in Caldhaven that she would need to relearn everything now that she only had a single arm...and the fingers on that hand were significantly shorter than they had been before. She frowned and slammed the end of the stick loudly into the stone floor, the bang sending a pulse of pain through Kafei's head.

"Stop that!" he yelled.

She gave him an irritated look. "I'm injured, you have to be nice to me," she said, pouting.

"You gave up that right when you went ahead and killed, what, twenty-two enemy soldiers in that battle," he said, raising an eyebrow and ignoring the stinging in his side. Good thing that wound was shallow... "What were you thinking?"

"I like that you assume that I gave the issue any thought whatsoever," she said, repositioning herself so that her undefended side was as far away from the theoretical battle it could be. "That was pure instinct. Besides, you weren't there."

"Yes I was," he pointed out. "You just didn't have time to wait for me, it seemed."

She looked honestly embarrassed at that. "...I got carried away," she admitted.

He snorted. "No kidding. I've heard you laugh while fighting before but that...that was cackling," he said, shuddering. "Combine that with the blood covering your clothes and you could have been some sort of vengeful spirit."

"I was certainly vengeful," she said, flashing him a grin. "Besides, I'd been antsy for days...I finally had an excuse to move, and there were all these outlets for my frustration..." she got a wistful look on her face, and Kafei was seriously starting to reconsider his relationship with the Gerudo. Had she always been this...interesting? "What's that look for?" she asked, eyeing him dangerously. "You're doubting us?" She pointed the tip of her 'blade' at him and bared her teeth. "I shan't allow it."

"I'm not, I'm not," he said hurriedly, squirming under her gaze. What have I gotten myself into? he wondered. "I just...think you're very scary." It was meant as a joke, but her face did not change.

"Scary, am I?" she asked slowly, dropping the stick, which clattered loudly on the floor and stalked towards the bed. She fished a knife out of her belt, twirling it around with surprising dexterity given how recently her injury had occurred. "Boy, you have _no idea_ how scary I can be when I want to," she said, her voice dropping until it was barely a whisper, tinted with a seductive edge that would have sent him right over the edge had he not been so utterly terrified of her that moment. She crawled into bed and straddled him, careful not to disturb his bandaged wound. She let the blunt side of the knife trail lazily around his chest, grinning when he gasped with surprise and no small amount of worry, his eyes looking up at her in complete awe and fear. "Should I show you?" she whispered, leaning down so that her face was mere inches from his, her warm breath ghosting over his lips. "Doubt us again," she said slowly, "and I will put the fear of the Goddesses in you. Do you understand?"

"Y-yes," Kafei whispered back, fearful and _incredibly_ aroused at the same time.

"Good," she replied, grinning. "Because you're mine now." She ended the sentence with a fierce and possessive kiss that left the Sheikah breathless once they separated. She leaned back up, eyes widening a fraction as she felt the hardness pressing against her behind. The grin widened when Kafei gave her a pleading look, and she shook her head. "Ah-ah, you're injured, remember?"

"It's just a flesh wound," he said desperately.

"One inch to the left and it would have gutted you," she reminded him, sheathing the knife, voice back to normal and all hints of seduction out of her posture and look. "You could have drowned too, you know."

"I can hold my breath for four minutes at the least," he said, disappointed that she wasn't going to do anything about the...situation she had caused, but he supposed that was his due punishment for even thinking he could or should get away from her now. "We were under for less than three...I think."

"You think?" she said, looking displeased.

"It felt like an eternity, though," he added, remembering how his lungs had burned and the loss of feeling in his limbs. "But I survived, didn't I?"

"You did," she said, nodding. "Just barely." She looked pointedly at the bandages. "So when are we going to talk about _that_?"

"There's nothing to talk about," he said, scoffing when he realised what she was doing. "It was a thing that happened."

"A thing?" Elenwe said, glaring at him. "A _thing_?! Your cousin is taken over by the Shadow that's been infesting him for the past year and a half, attacks you and nearly kills you and you call it a _thing_?!"

"Wonderfully summed up, dear," he said, trying to crack a smile, though it was met with a frozen stare. "Okay, what do you want me to call it? The incident where my last shred of family left in the world tried to kill me?"

"It wasn't him—"

"No, but it damn well looked and felt like it!"

Kafei closed his eyes, not wanting to have this discussion right now. When Sheik hadn't changed back after Kafei had knocked him unconscious, he'd started worrying about what had truly happened. If the Shadow hadn't been beaten back by _that_ , what would? And if the seal broke, did that mean it could not roam freely but chose to remain in Sheik's body? He'd asked Lor if Sheik still looked like he did, and upon receiving a confirming answer, he...he just didn't want to see him like that again. It had twisted his cousin into something he wasn't, and Kafei had no wish to look upon him again until he was back to normal. He wondered what Impa would have to say about this...or the princess—

He paused. He had yet to see Zelda after the incident. He had no idea where she even was. Probably at Sheik's side...probably finding a way for all this to be Kafei's fault, knowing her.

"You're thinking again," Elenwe said, breaking him out of his reverie. He looked at her, still straddling him and regarding him with a thoughtful look. "I don't like it when you do that. You always end up so gloomy."

"You can hardly blame me for that," he said, shrugging. "With the exception of you, my life hasn't exactly been barrels of fun lately."

"Maybe not, but it doesn't help to keep thinking about it."

"What do you want me to do, then?"

"I don't know, try to make some actually happy memories for once and _not_ clutch at the bad ones?" she suggested, mirroring his shrug. "I'm not an expert."

"Then stop acting like one!"

"Nope!"

He sighed. "Do you exist to torture me in every way imaginable?"

She thought about that for a few seconds, before nodding. "Yup. That's pretty much my entire purpose in this world."

"How lucky am I to have you?"

"Pretty damn lucky, I'd say."

He couldn't help but chuckle at that, which made Elenwe smile. "I suppose you're not going to let me avoid for him too long, huh?"

She shook her head. "Nope, the second that wound heals up, we're visiting your cute little cousin."

"He'd hate you if he heard you calling him 'cute'," he pointed out.

"Well, he ain't rugged or manly, so it's either cute or adorable, and I imagine the word with fewer syllables will piss him off less."

They laughed, knowing how much trouble they'd be in if the conversation ever got back to Sheik. Kafei looked up at the woman he had been a partner with for so long, and he wondered how he could have been so incredibly blind and stupid and not have gone for her the second they'd met. A faint twinge of guilt about Anju hit him, but he fought it down, knowing that, as Elenwe had said, she would not have wanted him to be alone and miserable, but happy...and he was truly happy with Elenwe. Wherever she was, he was sure that Anju was smiling at them.

"So..." he said, resting his hands on Elenwe's hips, annoyed that the coarse fabric prevented him from feeling the contours beneath them. "You got me pretty excited back there...you going to finish the job, or...?"

"Who would've thought the great Sheikah warrior Kafei likes being submissive?" Elenwe said, raising an eyebrow, clearly liking the idea. "Beneath it all, you just want to be tied up and dominated by someone strong, huh?"

"Not someone," Kafei said, looking her dead in the eyes. "Just you."

That set off a blush that was visible even on her dark skin, and Kafei couldn't help but grin triumphantly.

"I don't want to upset that wound any further," she said, sighing sadly and sliding off him to lie next to him on the bed. "But trust me...the second you heal up, I'll make you mine. Er...after we visit your cousin, of course."

"Wouldn't have it any other way," he promised, and kissed her.

* * *

Sheik struggled against the bonds after Link left, wanting to go after him, but Ard was having none of it, keeping him in place despite how much it was clearly ravaging him at this point. His face was soaked in sweat, as were his clothes, and his breath was starting to come out in puffs rather than steady exhales. And he wouldn't stop staring at Sheik, who found himself incredibly annoyed with the warlock.

"What?" he asked after finally having enough, glaring up at the warlock. "What do you want?"

"Same thing I wanted five minutes ago," Ard growled.

"As if you haven't arrived at a conclusion yourself," Sheik said with a scoff. "You're smart enough to figure it out."

"Obviously," Ard replied. "But I want to hear you say it. I want to know how it happened."

"Maybe I'm not interested in telling you." Sheik was horrified with what he was saying, but he couldn't stop. It felt so good to finally be able to be just as nasty to Ard as Ard had been to him when they'd first met. Sure, he had done nothing to hurt him at any point and had helped him with the seal, but that had been Erd's idea, most likely. Why couldn't it have been Ard who died, and Erd who survived? Things would have been much simpler, then. It would certainly have saved Sheik the absolute annoyance and humiliation of being shackled to the bed like an animal.

"You're not making it easier on yourself, you know," Ard said, voice quivering with barely suppressed anger. Not that it took a genius to know he was furious—the energy was practically rolling off him in waves. Sheik felt it rippling through his bonds, weakening and strengthening them at the same time. Ard was running out of energy fast, just a few more minutes and he might have to abandon the spell completely to avoid passing out. Sheik wondered how long it would take him to find Link when Ard lost consciousness. They needed to have a talk...

"Tell me," Ard said. There was finality to the words, an unspoken, non-verbal final warning. Sheik had never responded well to threats at the best of times, and right now he was in no mood to placate him.

"No."

"Tell me," he repeated more firmly. His eyes flashed dangerously.

"No," Sheik replied.

It felt like the room exploded. There was a loud crash and the sound of breaking glass, and Ard was suddenly sitting on top of Sheik, his hands on either side of his face and leaning close, roaring, "Tell me! Tell me! **Tell me!** "

Sheik's patience snapped, and he roared back, "Fine, you want to know?! She gave her life to save the airship! The jumped onto the other one with a bunch of guys and broke the controls or whatever the hell it was she did! Didn't have enough time to get back, though, so she went down with it! And you know what? Not once did she say to give you her love! She only worried about Rial, her _real_ family!"

The fire in Ard was extinguished immediately. "What?" he asked, voice barely over a whisper.

Sheik felt sick to his stomach, mind roiling as he felt his lips twist as he spoke more cruel words.

"She _knew_ she was going to die up there, and the last thing she said was to make sure that Rial knew she loved him. Not a word was mentioned about you...I don't think she even _thought_ about you while she was up there." He felt the magical bonds disappear as the words settled over Ard and he lost all concentration, the energy dissipating harmlessly as he stared disbelievingly at Sheik, mouth opening and closing as his brain failed to produce anything worthwhile to say. "So there you have it," Sheik continued. "She died saving her nephew...while not sparing you a single thought."

"No...I..." Tears were already gathering in the warlock's eyes, his strength failing him and nearly sending him tumbling onto Sheik's chest. He pushed away, however, stumbling off the bed and falling to the floor, still staring at Sheik. "She...she would have..."

"I'm afraid not," Sheik said, sitting up and relishing in being able to move freely again. "I imagine you were the last thing on her mind as she went down."

The feeling of triumph welled up in his chest one the first sniffle from the warlock reached Sheik's ears, though it was mixed with absolute disgust for himself. He'd lied—he had no idea if Riveth had meant Rial or Ard, or maybe both—but he'd just wanted to _hurt_ the rude boy. Damned if he was going to apologise, though. Ard was a pathetic sight, sitting on the floor with rivulets of tears making their way down his cheeks now, paralysed by what Sheik had told him. Why would Sheik have to apologise to him? If anything, it was payback for all the times Ard had been rude and insulting.

"Cat finally got your tongue again, huh?" he asked.

 _What am I_ saying _?!_

"Maybe she thought about your brother, but definitely not you."

_Goddesses, stop!_

"Why would she, after all? Erd was pleasant, outgoing and interesting to talk to, but you...you're nothing like him. And what a pity that is."

_Enough, stop!_

He physically had to bit his tongue to stop himself from saying anything else, clamping his mouth shut and chewing on his lips, tasting blood. The words stopped coming, thankfully, but he knew the damage was already done. The warlock was trembling, his body seemingly refusing to respond, only able to look at Sheik with eyes wide and wet.

"Ard..." Sheik tried to say, but the supply of words finally ran out, and all he could do was stare back.

The door opening broke whatever spell had suddenly engulfed him, and Ard barrelled past Link and Lor as they came inside the room. They gave the retreating warlock a confused look, which was replaced with shock upon seeing Sheik sitting up in bed, blood running from the corner of his mouth, having bitten through his lip.

"Ard!" Lor called out, looking torn between following him and Link.

"Go," Link said, keeping his eyes on Sheik.

"What about—"

"I'll make sure he behaves."

Sheik shivered at the look he was receiving from the Hero. There was no love or warmth there, just cold calculation as he regarded Sheik intensely with...red-rimmed eyes? Had he been crying? That was not good.

"I said go," Link repeated firmly.

Lor looked between them before nodding and rushing after Ard. Link closed and locked the door behind him, turning to look at Sheik with crossed arms.

"What did you do?" he asked.

Sheik bowed his head, the guilt flooding in to replace the triumph and anger he'd felt just before. "Some...something bad," he replied.

* * *

Lor took back all the times he had cursed his luck for being born with magic, despite all the trouble it had caused him in his childhood. While he was nowhere near good at using spells yet, he had gained a finely attuned sense for other people's magical auras...and right now Ard was leaving behind a veritable trail of energy for him to follow. It was a good thing, as well as a bad one, because during the time he'd spent with Ard he'd learned that, even with his lack of fine control, Ard was very good at hiding his magic. Actually, Ard was good at hiding everything in general, even himself. It was difficult to get more than the absolute necessary words out of him on any subject, and any attempts were met with biting sarcasm and avoidance.

So, he could follow Ard's trail. That was a good thing. But Ard was leaving a trail, which meant that something had caused him to lose control of his most practiced ability, which was bad. Something had obviously happened between him and Sheik, but what?

The trail led outside, into the burned streets of Caldhaven. Quite a few buildings had survived the fires, and many of them had been converted into temporary hospitals for all the wounded, and the rest of them were filled with civilians who'd lost their homes. The streets were filled with people, but Ard's trail was still easy to follow, a silvery glimmer leading the way through the crowds.

It took him fifteen minutes to reach the end of the trail. A dark alley between two taverns, and Ard had definitely gone into it. Lor felt his pocket for his dagger, just in case some drunkard—a perpetual presence around these places—showed up to start trouble, as he entered the alley, keeping his eyes peeled for any presence of the silver-haired warlock.

He heard Ard before he saw him. Quiet sniffles and sobs reached his ears as he came near a pile of empty beer barrels. He peered around the pile and nearly gasped as he saw the usually stoic and stone cold warlock sitting on the ground, arms wrapped around his knees and crying his heart out. The sight put Lor completely in a trance, the sight was just so...heart-breaking. He felt his own eyes tearing up, but was unable to say anything...could only barely force out, "Ard..."

The boy looked up sharply at that, surprised he'd been found. He tried to scowl at Lor, but even that was impossible as it faltered in half a second, replaced by a trembling jaw and eyes that...pleaded?

"L-Lor..."

That tore it. Lor sat down next to Ard and took him into his arms, trying to comfort someone for the second time that night. To his surprise, Ard didn't resist, merely clung to him as the tears continued to flow, quiet sobs sending tremors through both their bodies. Lor felt Ard's hands grabbing onto his clothing, holding on for dear life, which only made him feel worse. What could Sheik possibly have done to affect Ard like this? He wrapped his arms tighter around Ard, resting his chin on the top of the other boy's head, not really sure of what else to do. He'd never been good at this kind of thing—comforting each other had never been a big priority in the whorehouse since the managers always found a way to ruin it. Not that anyone ever tried to comfort Lor, being "cursed" with magic and all...well, no one but Jeryd, of course...

"He's right..." Ard muttered suddenly, words nearly hidden by the quiet sniffles. Lor blinked, unsure of how long they'd been like this. He had lost track of time, but they'd been here for some time as he was freezing, and Ard was probably no better off.

"What?" Lor asked, looking down at him. "What did you say?"

"He's right," Ard repeated, his voice rough and quivering. "About...me...about Erd...it should've been me..."

"What are you talking about?" Lor said, unable to believe his own ears. Had Sheik said that Ard should have died instead of his brother? What could possibly have possessed him to...oh...

"She's dead," Ard continued, heedless of Lor's question. "And she didn't even care...never said goodbye..."

"Ard, you need to slow down, tell me what happened? What did Sheik say?" Lor was trying to keep up, he really was, but the warlock wasn't making much sense.

Ard look up at him, then, and Lor was floored by the endless and boundless loneliness he saw in his eyes. Was this how Ard had been feeling the entire time? Lor wanted to slap himself, he'd been so busy and concerned with what had happened with Sheik to remember that Ard had lost Riveth that day...and that loss came not long after Erd, his twin...

Gods, what is wrong with me? he wondered. He drew Ard even tighter to himself.

"I'm alone..." Ard said, whimpering.

Lor shook his head. "No, you're not alone..."

The next moment he found himself on his back, staring up at the stars in the sky. Ard had pushed him away and was standing above him, glaring.

"I _am_ alone!" the warlock shouted, voice breaking. "They're both dead! Killed in this fucking war I don't give a shit about! And for what?! Nothing, that's what!" He cried out in frustration and punched the tavern wall, the hollow thump barely audible over the loud crack that signified that something had just broken in Ard's hand. The warlock didn't seem to care, however, and screamed again, grief, pain and fury all mixing into one, desperate sound. He leaned against the wall, panting and looking ready to collapse. It was no wonder, Lor knew. Ard had already exhausted himself keeping Sheik tied to the bed, and having this on top of that...it was a wonder he was still awake. "I'm alone," Ard whispered, releasing a shuddering breath. "All alone..."

Lor couldn't find the strength to stand, could only stare as the other boy seemed to think deeply. Ard's eyes suddenly opened, and he looked at Lor.

"I'm leaving."

Lor gaped. "What?"

"I'm leaving Lumina," Ard clarified. "There's nothing left for me here now."

"What about the war? The rebels?" Lor asked as he got back to his feet. What the hell had Sheik said to him?!

"The only reason I was here was because of her...and now she's gone...no reason to stick around..." Ard offered as an explanation. "No one would care."

"You're wrong," Lor protested. "Plenty of people would care. What about Angen and the others? They like you and will miss you—"

"They won't."

"But they can't win the war without you, I...you...we..."

"They can...and they will," Ard said, wiping his face with his sleeve and adjusting his hood, looking at the alley's exit. "I'm...I'm done."

Lor's heart broke at the defeated tone in Ard's voice, the sound of him giving up just...it was terrible to hear.

Ard looked at him, gave him the slightest of nods and said, "Goodbye." He began to walk, and Lor knew that if he let him, Ard would disappear in the streets of Caldhaven...and then he would leave Lumina forever. He couldn't let that happen.

"Wait!" Lor called after him, catching up to Ard halfway to the mouth of the alley. "You can't just leave!" he said desperately.

"Why not?" Ard asked, sounding so...dead. "Nothing for me here."

Anger filled Lor, then. Why couldn't he see? Why couldn't the stubborn bastard see? Before he knew what he was doing, he had Ard pressed up against the wall, hands grasping the front of his shirt.

"What about me?!" Lor yelled. "What happens to me when you leave, huh?! You were supposed to teach me, show me, guide me! And now you're just going?!"

"No one—"

"I care!" Lor cut him off, slamming him against the wall once more when Ard tried to push back, though he was far too weak to do so. "I care if you leave, you stupid git!"

"Why?" Ard asked. He didn't even have the energy to raise his voice now. "Why do you care?"

Lor could have punched him right then for being so oblivious. He tried to say everything he had wanted to say for weeks now, but none of the words would come to him in a manner that wouldn't make him seem a manic psychopath with a severe speech impediment and verbal diarrhoea, forcing him to _show_ Ard why he cared. Without warning, he crushed their lips together, ignoring the whimper coming from the silver-haired boy.

Ard fought against him for a few moments, but then he seemed to practically melt against Lor, who felt light-headed and just about ready to collapse on the cobblestones. He couldn't, though, or else Ard would fall as well, so he pushed back, forcing Ard back against the wall, lips still moving against his. Ard groaned, either from pain, relief or pleasure—or a mix of all three—and opened his mouth, and Lor wasted no time, letting his tongue explore Ard's mouth. His tongue found Ard's, and after a few moments of coaxing it began to move as well, and soon enough they were both duelling for dominance, neither gaining nor losing ground. The kiss was wet, violent, painful and full of pleasure at the same time.

They were forced to separate in the end, both gasping for air, and Lor, embarrassed and horrified at what he had just done, buried his head in Ard's neck, unable to look the other in the face but also unable to get away, his legs shaking and barely able to support his weight. He listened to Ard's panting, felt the boy's chest rise and fall with each breath and the frantic beating of his heart. As they both began to calm down, Lor finally found his ability to speak again, and dared to use it.

"That's why," he whispered, knowing Ard could hear him. "That's why I care..."

Ard didn't respond, but Lor suddenly found himself being held tightly against Ard's chest, both of them clinging to each other as if their lives depended on it.

Well, the cat was out of the bag now, Lor supposed. No way back. As he felt Ard's hold on him tighten, he smiled to himself, and thanked the gods for that.

* * *

**Soul Remnants**

**Chapter 79**

* * *

"You said what?"

The Hero stared at Sheik, eyes wide with shock. Had their positions been reversed, Sheik would most likely have done the same, given the horrible things he had told Ard. He could see that Link did not believe him, and, frankly, he had trouble believing it himself, and he had been there, felt the words being formed by his tongue before leaving his mouth in a display of vitriol that had come seemingly out of nowhere.

No, not out of nowhere. Sheik knew exactly where it had come from. There was no denying it, despite how practiced he was in the art of self-delusion. It was inevitable, he supposed. No matter how many times he thought he'd finally gotten rid of the Shadow, it found its way back in. In hindsight, though, Sheik supposed _he_ had been the one to let Speil inside this time. Granted, it had been a spur-of-the-moment decision compounded by an intense sense of self-preservation, but still... He had to keep reminding himself that if he _hadn't_ absorbed Speil, the Shadow would have done it to him, and Goddesses knew what would have happened then.

_I was never one to consider a glass half-full, was I?_

Optimism did not come easy to him, and even though he knew that he had chosen the lesser of two evils, it was difficult to see any rays of light in the current situation. Especially not with the way Link was looking at him right now, and not only because he could clearly see the subconscious revulsion the Hero was feeling at seeing his lover looking like the bane of his existence, but also because of the pain and uncertainty reflected within those cerulean orbs, the roiling emotions that, upon analysis, could only lead to one thing—and that was what Sheik feared the most.

The thought probably hadn't occurred to Link yet, but Sheik could see clear as day that it was quickly making its way to his mind. The strange thing was that he didn't mind it too much. Probably because he understood just how conflicted Link would be feeling right now. He wondered how long it would take before Link realised it...

"It's not like I did it on purpose," Sheik said, shrugging.

"How can you say something not on purpose?" Link said, blinking.

Sheik rolled his eyes. "Let's not play this game, Link," he said, feeling agitated. Just being in the room with Link was setting his teeth on edge. Was that because of Speil as well? "I can see that you already think you know what has happened to me...I'd rather not go through the motions."

"What are you talking about?" he asked. "What motions?"

"Oh come on, Link," Sheik said, throwing the covers off himself and climbing out of bed, ignoring the chill that went through his body at the sudden lack of warmth. He was only wearing underwear, which didn't contribute much to his internal temperature. "You already know what happened. I can see it on your face that you at least have some sort of theory, and I can confirm it! I have clearly...absorbed some of _his_ qualities!"

Link clenched his jaw and began to shake his head, clearly about to voice his disagreement, but it was half-hearted at best, and he must have realised this halfway through forming the first word, for he suddenly closed his mouth, cleared his throat and looked immensely uncomfortable. In a way, it almost felt like some sort of victory to Sheik—which horrified him.

The silence was intrusive and incredibly uncomfortable, and the two lovers could do nothing but stare at each other, waiting for the other to break it. It never happened, for neither of them knew what to say. What could possibly be appropriate to vocalise in such a situation?

"And it's killing you," Sheik heard himself say. He felt like he was going numb, but there was an undercurrent of what could only be described as glee, a small and almost unnoticeable reaction to the mess his life was rapidly turning into, courtesy of the very cause of it. "You can't stand it."

"I don't—"Link began, but Sheik wasn't in the mood to be coddled or to listen to someone trying to fool themselves.

"Don't lie, Link," he said softly, spotting his clothes lying on a chair in front of the fire. He hoped they had dried. "We're both past that point in this relationship, don't you think?"

"Really?" Link asked, a bitter tone in his voice. "You certainly don't seem to be. Tell me, were you _ever_ going to tell me about him? If he hadn't tried to take over or escape, would I ever have found out that he was still in there?" He sighed and rubbed his eyes, looking exhausted. He probably was. Knowing the Hero, he probably hadn't slept at all in the past twenty-four hours. "Or were you just going to keep silent, and hope I'd be too stupid to notice?"

"You're not stupid—"

"No, but that's what you think sometimes, isn't it?!"

Sheik blinked, unsure of what to do. As much as he wanted to deny it, there had been times where he'd thought Link had acted less than...well, not unintelligently, but not like a paragon of intellect either. But that was something he liked about Link—he didn't make things complicated by thinking too much, he just acted on gut instinct, for better or for worse. It had certainly proved more effective than Sheik's own approach on more than one occasion, but there was no real way of saying this that would not insult or hurt the Hero, was there?

"...that's exactly what you think, isn't it?" Link said again, his voice laced with barely concealed pain.

"Not like that, I—"

"No, no, no need to explain," Link interrupted. "I know I'm not the smartest guy in the world—never claimed to be either. But I hoped that you'd be able to look past it and focus on what you feel for me, but...that's changed too, hasn't it?"

 _If only you would realise that this is a good thing, Link,_ Sheik thought. _For both of us. More for you than me, though._

"Sheik, has that changed too?"

One could hear a pin drop in the silence that ensued, and Sheik knew the second that he looked into the impossibly blue eyes of his lover that he would not even need to open his mouth for everything to change. Link's entire body language told him all he needed to know, and what it told him right now was that they had reached the point of no return. In a way, it was a relief, and a good thing. He knew that, he tried to tell himself that, but it felt like someone had stuck a knife in his heart and was twisting, a sensation that grew worse upon seeing the slight tremble in Link's form. This was right, this was good...but it felt like the world was ending...which he supposed, in a way, it was. But he couldn't keep doing this to Link, and he hoped the Hero realised this as well.

For all intents and purposes, Sheik was now half of Link's mortal enemy, and not even the infamously nice Hero of Time would be able to look past it, especially not if the sudden bouts of anger and annoyance Sheik was experiencing were going to be commonplace. If Ard was just the start—he felt a pang of guilt, and rightfully so—then how much worse could things get? Sooner or later, he would either say or do something that would cause a split anyway...and he'd rather be in control of it. Maybe that was his biggest failing...

Link clearly wanted to protest. He probably even knew exactly why Sheik was doing this. But he clearly also realised what enabled Sheik to do it in the first place—that deep inside himself, he was thinking the exact same thing. And that killed any attempt at dissent before it even had a chance to live.

And that was it. The Shadow had finally won. Maybe not in the way it intended, but it had certainly managed to drive a wedge between them. Was it even aware? Was there enough left of it to know?

"So that's it, then?" Link asked. "Just like that?"

"Better for it to die quick and painless than slow and agonisingly, isn't it?" Sheik said.

"It might be quick," Link said, voice cracking a bit. "But it won't be painless."

"I know," Sheik whispered, the knife twisting even more. "But this is the way it has to be. For both our sakes."

It was an incredibly brave face Link was putting on—even Sheik was impressed—but the mask was cracking fast. He made several false starts, and eventually gave up, looking just as miserable as Sheik was feeling. His eyes shone with tears that were threatening to spill, but Link refused to let him see it and went for the door, pausing.

"You're going to regret it," he managed to choke out before leaving the room.

A deathly chill was creeping up on Sheik, invading him and leaving him freezing to the bone. He felt his fists clench, his teeth grinding against each other as he fought to keep his composure.

"I already am," he whispered.

He felt weak, his legs threatening to give out. He sat on the bed, staring at the fireplace with his hands in his lap, feeling utterly useless and pathetic...and already so lonely. But it was well deserved, he supposed. In a way, this was all his fault. He thought back to the day in Hyrule when he had first met the Shadow, when it had still been weak after being defeated by Link, subsisting on Navi's blood... He'd been unable to do anything then, but once Speil began to speak to him...say that he loved him... Sheik bit his lip. He should have said no, and let Link know right away what was happening. But no, his pride had gotten the better of him, and look what that had led to.

"My fault," he said. "All my fault."

With the loneliness came guilt, and with the guilt an intense self-loathing, and right then Sheik wished that Speil had truly managed to kill him in the Forest Temple, that Vorpheus hadn't been able to bring him back. It would have saved Link the pain he was feeling now, that was certain. And he could have found someone else who loved him. Someone who didn't feel the need to keep secrets from him. Someone whose first instinct upon being hurt wasn't to withdraw into themselves and never let him know what was happening.

 _And someone who doesn't turn into a homicidal monster upon being slightly annoyed,_ he finished, chuckling bitterly.

Shivering in the cold room, he went to the pile of clothing by the fireplace. His own were probably being dried somewhere, but someone—probably Lor—had been kind enough to find some clothes that would fit Sheik. They were simple worker's clothes, but at least they were comfortable and not to mention warm. Upon dressing and pulling on the boots beneath the bed, he began to pace, feeling restless but too miserable to do anything productive. He was even fidgeting!

 _This is pathetic,_ he told himself. _I'm a Sheikah, not a love-struck debutante!_

His world might be crashing down around him, and the love of his life might have left him (or Sheik had left him, it was difficult to tell), but damned if he was going to sit around and wait for some miracle to occur! Things were what they were, and nothing was going to change that for the time being, so he might as well do his best to find something to occupy his time until he was needed again!

But what? His life had, up until meeting Link, mostly been about doing what was required of him, what he _had_ to do. The times he weren't following orders, he was with Zelda, usually having fun doing the things _she_ had wanted. He'd never actually made his own fun. On his off-days he'd play the lyre, but that did not seem like an appealing option to him right now, nor he was entirely sure where the damn thing was. So what could he do? What did he really want to do with his time?

 _Apart from finding Link, apologising and begging him to snog me senseless?_ he thought.

He wanted...he wanted...

Ah, there it was. An activity he had always found foolish, but had a strange sort of appeal right now. It would be appropriate too, given the circumstances. It was apparently something men did when suffering from a broken heart.

He wanted a bloody drink.

* * *

**Soul Remnants**

**Chapter 80**

* * *

Link lost track of both time and where he was as he wandered through the streets of Caldhaven. His chest hurt from the tension he was carrying, trying not to break down in the middle of the road.

Despite the fact that a few of the buildings were still smouldering from Iteos' attempted pillaging, the people of the city were more than happy to keep things going as usual. It had taken them less than a day to recover from the sudden attack, and the city's taverns and pubs were crammed full of people, business booming.

Laughter and merry singing was heard everywhere. It had only taken an hour or so for the news of _The Chimera's_ battle in the sky to reach the ears of every man, woman and child in the city, and knowing that the rebels had now taken out the last of Rehm's trump cards was apparently cause for premature celebration. As far as they were concerned, the war was already won. It was but a formality to take the capital.

Link wished he could join in on the merriment, but all he could think about was the words exchanged with Sheik twenty minutes before. It was over, and it had happened so quickly. The Hero felt like he hadn't even been able to get a word in edge-wise...or he'd had the chance, but failed to grasp it. The thing that hurt the most was Sheik's main argument for why their relationship had to come to an end—that Link would only be able to see the damn Shadow instead of the Sheikah. And, worst of all, he was right, too! Link had been shocked to find himself struggling to keep himself from thinking of Sheik as Speil. Even now his subconscious seemed to want to replace the Sheikah with the Shadow in the mental image of his now former lover.

He was angry. At Sheik. At himself. At everything that had been conspiring to keep them from each other ever since coming to Lumina. Why couldn't they ever have some real time for themselves? The time during which they travelled right after the war in Hyrule had been the best in Link's life—why couldn't it have lasted?

"Sir?"

He paused, blinking at the soldier he had paused in front of.

He was wearing the colours of Hyrule, the patch on his arm denoting his position in Zelda's personal guard (which had mysteriously swelled in numbers from a few hundred to several thousand when she left for Lumina), and he was standing at attention, looking slightly in awe at being in Link's presence.

Of course, Link was famous in Hyrule these days, wasn't he? He cleared his throat, doing his best to rein in the emotions that were running rampant through him. He realised he had, inadvertently, wandered to the inn the princess had more or less commandeered as her accommodations during her stay in Caldhaven. She'd gone tired at living in a tent at some point, apparently, or perhaps she wanted a bit more comfort and shelter given her injury. Link wanted to groan, he'd forgotten that Zelda had demanded news about Sheik the second he woke up. Had she had her way, she would have been at Sheik's bedside twenty-four hours a day, but her presence was needed at the endless strategy meetings the commanders insisted on having. Goddesses forbid that everyone take a rest day after everything that had happened lately.

It occurred to Link to think it strange that the princess had not had Sheik in the same building as her. Maybe Tira had voiced security concerns—and with good reason. They had, after all, not known whether or not Sheik was in control before he woke up.

"Sir?" the guard repeated, looking as awkward as Link felt at the moment. "Can I help you?"

"Er, yes," Link said, recovering and trying to stand up straight. "I would like to speak with the princess, please."

"She has retired for the night, sir," the guard replied, though perhaps the use of the word 'night' was unnecessary. They were rapidly approaching the morning at the moment, the first light of dawn beginning to appear in the sky. He was clearly uncomfortable with telling the Hero of Time himself that he could not come in, but he was just following orders. On any other day, Link would have respected that and waited for a sensible time to come back. Today was not any other day. He put on his most disarming look (most likely dulled by his sorrow at the moment) and spoke.

"I know it's an inconvenience, but I was told to report to her immediately after the Lord Sheikah woke up—no matter the time."

"I see..." There was a conflict going on inside the guard at that moment, and Link took pity on him.

"If anyone asks, I snuck inside, okay?" he said, pushing past the guard, who only made a token attempt at stopping him. "I've a habit of doing that," he added, winking conspiratorially as he opened the door and went inside the inn.

It was warm and dark inside the inn. The tavern part was only lit by a single lamp, hanging above a table in the centre of the room, around which a group of five off-duty guards were having a game of cards. Tira was one of them, and judging by a tall stack of mixed rupees and gold coins on her side of the table, she was fleecing her fellow soldiers for their combat pay. Five heads snapped to look at Link the second he closed the door a tad louder than he'd intended. He noticed that all of them had their hands on their sheathed weapons, proving that they were ready to leap into action at a moment's notice. They all relaxed upon realising who he were, however, all of them nodding respectfully.

Tira rose from her seat, giving her opponents a pointed look, as if daring them to try to look at her cards or steal from her winnings, and walked over to him. "Hero," she said, catching herself and correcting her greeting to "Link."

"Tira," he replied. "I need to see Zelda."

She looked ready to argue, but she must have sensed the inner turmoil in the Hero, for she nodded and headed for the stairs. "How is he?" she asked as they climbed to the second floor.

"He's...all right," Link managed to say. That was all he wanted to say until he was in the safety of a private room.

"Hmph," Tira grunted, picking up on his unwillingness to speak out in the open.

The princess' bodyguard led him through a small corridor, pausing outside the door at the end, knocking three times before opening it. She motioned for Link to stay and went inside, closing the door behind her. Link sighed, leaning against the wall as he waited, listening to the hushed voices inside. He heard movement, most likely Zelda jumping out of bed and throwing on a random outfit.

"You may enter," Tira said, reappearing in the portal, holding it open for him.

"Link," Zelda greeted him, hair dishevelled and blinking sleepily. Her next sentence was swallowed up by a humongous yawn that threatened to split her face in half, and it occurred to Link that he was one of the few people in the world who was allowed to see the princess in this state, fighting back a yawn himself. He glanced at Tira, and saw a tiny, fond smile on the soldier's lips, amused by the sight of the sleepy Zelda. The princess recovered and tried again, "How is he? Has he woken up? Is...Link, what's wrong?"

Her vision had finally cleared up and she'd clearly seen the troubled expression on his face, a frown coming to her face. She pulled him forward and made him sit on her bed, looking down at him with concern.

The Hero wanted to explain what had happened as rationally as he could, with limited amounts of emotion. The plan failed immediately, because the second he began to explain himself, a few tears began to flow, unable to hold them back. "He...he said it didn't work," he explained. "We're...we've...left each other."

Zelda blinked, looking confused. "What, again?" she asked. When Link looked up at her, clearly confused by her reaction, she elaborated, "You split up once before, remember? During the war. One of you was done with the other, as I recall."

This was not going the way Link had expected, and he found the tension releasing slightly. "Well, yeah, but—"

"This is different, right?" Zelda said, giving him a kind smile.

"It is!"

The princess shook her head and glanced at Tira. "Could you wait outside, Tira?"

Tira saluted. "Of course, Princess."

After her bodyguard had left the room, Zelda sat beside Link on the bed, taking one of his hands in her own and holding it in a comforting gesture. Her hands were warm, and soft. Comforting. Like Sheik's, only...slightly more feminine.

"Now," the princess said, "tell me everything."

Her reaction to Sheik's drastic change was predictable, shock and anger. Not at Sheik, of course, but the Shadow. Well, perhaps a bit at Sheik as well, for having hidden the Shadow's presence for as long as he did, but the harm was already done and there was no point in ripping up the old wounds. To Link's surprise (and slight annoyance) she didn't seem too bothered by their relationship ending. He voiced this concern to her, and all she did was give him a wry smile and a shake of her head.

"Do you really think that this will stand in the way of you two being together?" she asked, giggling slightly. "You stupid, stupid boys..." He must have looked annoyed at that, for she squeezed his hand and smiled. "You two have been through far worse than this, Link. If what you say is true, then Sheik only needs time to...adjust to this change. If _he_ absorbed the Shadow, then he is most definitely the dominant entity."

"But he's right," Link protested. "When I look into those eyes, I'm supposed to just see Sheik! But now...now I see them both, or just... _it_. And when he's angry, Zelda...it's like the Shadow is standing there instead of him. How am I supposed to just look past that?"

"You've both been rattled quite badly by this, Link," Zelda said. "Like Sheik has to adjust, so do you. I can't promise it will be easy, but whenever you feel like you're looking at the Shadow...just keep telling yourself that it's Sheik. It _is_ Sheik. And if his anger gets out of control...well, you've always been a great influence on him. Spend enough time with him, and he will learn to control it."

"How do you know?" Link asked, still miserable, but the princess' words were giving him a small amount of hope.

"Do you remember what Sheik was like when you first met him?" Zelda asked.

Link nodded, recalling the Sheikah he had met in the Temple of Time. So serious, so business-focused. Had no time for conversation, only there to usher Link along on his quest. He also remembered that he'd been stricken by the grace and poise the boy had carried himself with, the elegance of his speech and maturity of his words. Link remembered his urge and need to see Sheik, the anticipation with which he had waited at the first two temple entrances... He hadn't known at the time, but it was love at first sight.

"I had done my best," Zelda continued, "to make him loosen up, to be more free with his emotions. But he only opened up a crack at best when he was around me. And then he met you, and all the...Sheikah-ness seemed to leave him, bit by bit." She laughed. "And he was hopelessly in love with you from the second he saw you awaken with the Master Sword in your hand."

"He was?" Link asked. Sheik had rarely spoken about the day they had first met.

"Oh, most definitely," she replied. "He didn't know at the time, of course, but I could tell there was something different about him when he returned from the Temple of Time." She cocked her head to the side in a thinking manner. "Then again, he was fascinated by you, even as a child."

"Wait," Link interrupted her, "he saw me as a child?"

"Of course," Zelda said, shrugging. "Do you really think we were completely alone in the courtyard that day? Sheik was on the roof, ready to intervene if you proved dangerous. I tried to reassure him that you weren't, but...well, he was still in full Sheikah-mode at the time. He never told you this?"

"No."

"Hm, well, he's not one for reminiscing, I suppose. He prefers to stay in the here and now, not in the past or future."

Link was silent. His anguish was subsiding more and more as he listened to Zelda speak. Of course, they had both overreacted, hadn't they? Sheik never dealt with surprises well, and Link himself had been far too hung up on the Shadow to truly look at his lover in the new light he required. And now he could not get the mental image of a nine-year-old Sheik watching the ten-year-old Link with suspicious eyes from a rooftop out of his head...and it was so damn adorable, too!

"So, no matter how you feel right now, Link," Zelda said, "I know it will work itself out. It might take a little time, but you're both stronger than this."

He wanted to protest, wanted to prove her wrong for once...but just one look at that smile on her face and all thoughts of arguing disappeared from his mind. "I...guess," he conceded.

"So let's get the unpleasantness out of the way, shall we?" Zelda said brightly and stood up. "Tira!"

The bodyguard entered the room. "Princess?"

"Fetch Sheik for me, will you? He's still at Ard and Lor's house, correct?" she directed the last part at Link, who nodded. "Right, go and bring him here. Tell him that I strongly request his presence. That should be enough, I think."

"As you wish," Tira replied and left.

Link sighed. "He's not going to be happy about that," he said.

Zelda thought about it for a second, and nodded. "Probably not," she admitted. "Tough."

* * *

Lor smiled to himself as he and Ard made their way back to the building, taking their time. Morning was rapidly approaching, and the air was cold and crisp, with just a hint of burnt wood. They had stayed in the alley for a while after they had kissed. Or, "snogged" was a more accurate term, but Lor made sure not to say it to Ard, who was still feeling embarrassed by the whole thing. The former assassin smiled again when he felt Ard's fingers brush against his own, the other warlock's way of showing his newfound affection. It was cute, it really was. He wondered if Ard had ever actually been this intimate with someone before, not counting his twin brother...and frankly, Lor didn't want to know how close _that_ relationship had been.

A quiet hiss brought his attention back to Ard, and he saw the warlock carefully holding his right hand against his chest. Ard had hurt his hand when he punched the wall, and they were going to take a closer look at it when they got back. Hopefully, Sheik would keep his mouth shut this time—and if he didn't, Lor would take steps to ensure it. Sheik was certainly justified in being upset about his current situation, but that was no excuse to say the things that he did to Ard.

Lor shook his head, wondering how things had come to this. It wasn't too long ago he was nothing but a whore at the assassins' guildhall, and now he was suddenly a rebel, lost his best friend, regained his magic and was now...in a relationship? Were they, though? He hadn't dared ask Ard about it, fearing that the warlock would react negatively to the idea. For all he knew, the kiss could have been a fluke, and the only reason Ard kept brushing his fingers against Lor's was a show of gratitude for calming him down. His common sense told him that no boy would do such a thing, but that was the thing about common sense—it had the quietest voice.

"Should we go to a medic?" Lor asked, looking at Ard's hand. It was an angry red, and it had started to swell.

"No," Ard replied. "Want to look at it first."

"Okay."

They lapsed back into silence. Many found Ard's tendency not to speak to be annoying or unnerving. The fact that the boy could communicate more with a simple look than most could with a thousand words did not sit well with most people, who relied on verbal cues and inflections of voice to feel comfortable during conversations. Lor, however, found the silence to be comforting. He couldn't explain why, he just was. Since they were both warlocks in a kingdom where magic was mostly hated, they had some sort of silent understanding and feelings of kinship with each other, and fostered a strong, unspoken sense of loyalty to each other. And now that the cat was out of the bag concerning Lor's attraction...perhaps it would simply grow stronger. Or it could falter completely—they were both operating on very little sleep and were both bound to do silly things in their sleep-deprived state.

He shook his head, realising his thoughts were running away from him again. He tended to do that, over-analyse things until the initial worries and problems grew from molehills to mountains. He chose focus on the facts instead. He had kissed Ard. Ard had kissed back. They had said very little, but the other warlock had not run away. They were walking back together, brushing their fingers against each other, in a silence that was no less comfortable than before. Those were the things he knew for sure, and so far nothing seemed to have a negative tone.

They rounded a corner and saw the building they had been occupying. The front door was open. He was sure Link had closed it. They exchanged a look and ran inside.

"Where did they go?" he asked out loud, seeing neither Sheik nor Link anywhere.

"Don't know," Ard replied, looking under the bed they'd kept Sheik in. "Clothes are gone."

"Maybe they went outside," Lor said, closing the door.

"Good."

Lor shook his head. Ard was not particularly fond of Sheik at the moment, something he understood completely. Still, though, he figured the warlock would at least be _slightly_ worried. From what he could tell, Ard found Sheik fascinating, for reasons unknown to him. Perhaps it was another one of those unspoken connections—Ard and his brother were pariahs in Lumina, Sheik was one in Hyrule. Or maybe it was because Sheik was just naturally intriguing. He certainly was to Lor—the assassins had modelled themselves on the enigmatic people, after all. Maybe Ard just had too much on his mind to care about the Sheikah at the moment.

"All right, let's take a look at that hand."

Lor had limited medical training. He'd been given the same basic training all assassins went through, before his magic was discovered, but it was really just good for cleaning wounds and perhaps stitching smaller ones closed. But he also knew when something was broken, and judging by the continually swelling of Ard's hand, something definitely was. He poked and prodded the limb, watching the small twitches on Ard's face carefully. The warlock refused to acknowledge the pain verbally apart from the small hisses he let out every now and then.

"Nothing's snapped," Lor concluded, shaking his head. "But I don't think it's just a sprain either. Maybe a small fracture. Does it hurt to clench your fist?"

The look he received for that question clearly confirmed that, along with a glare that told him it was an incredibly dumb question.

"Right," he said slowly. "Where does it hurt the most? Where does the pain come from?"

Ard hesitated before pointing at the base of his middle finger. Lor carefully prodded the area and received a small whimper in return. He frowned. Clearly a fracture of some kind.

"We need to take you to a physician, I can't do anything about this," he told Ard, who immediately shook his head violently. "Why not?"

"Don't like doctors," he said, sounding annoyed. "Besides...there's a spell."

"A spell?" Lor asked, watching as Ard fetched the wizard's journal and leafed through the pages with his healthy hand, lips moving quietly as he read the names of the magic to himself.

"Here," Ard said suddenly, all but thrusting the book into Lor's face.

The former assassin took the journal and quickly studied the diagrams and read the accompanying texts, quickly realising that this spell was way out of his league. He was still struggling to keep fireballs under control, for gods' sake! It would require control that was beyond both of them—especially Ard. Besides, it would require so much energy that Lor wouldn't be able to siphon it from the air quickly enough. He slowly looked at Ard and shook his head.

"I'm sorry, I can't do this. You should go to a doctor and get it wrapped up—"

"The war's ending soon," Ard interrupted. "They will need our magic to win—and I can't do magic with just one hand. You need to heal it."

Lor was about to protest again when he realised the implied trust Ard was putting in him. At first, when Ard had begun to teach him how to use magic, there had been a certain distance between them, and the more experienced warlock hadn't allowed Lor to perform any magic _on_ him. But now he was trusting Lor to not only use magic on him, but the kind of magic that could have terrible repercussions if it went wrong.

"But what if I do it wrong?" he asked. "What if I end up hurting you?"

"You'll know when to stop," Ard said simply.

"But I don't have enough energy, and there's not enough of it—"

"Take mine."

He gave Lor no time to protest before he put his healthy hand on Lor's shoulder, sending a jolt of pure magical energy into the former assassin, establishing a connection that somehow felt far more intimate and... _close_ than anything Lor had ever experienced, even with Jeryd. It was as if he was suddenly two people at once, feeling and hearing two distinct heartbeats, experiencing sensations from two different sources at once!

A wave of concern and apologetic optimism washed over him, and he knew that Ard was sorry for suddenly springing this on him...but at the same time, Lor was glad. This was...wonderful. He tried to send something back, forgiveness and a smile of the senses, which was received with relief. And then he felt it, the sensation of power just filling him to the brim, Ard depositing a part of his vast reservoir of accumulated magical energy into him, feeding him with enough strength to perform the spell. Another wave of trust and reassurance came over him, filled with confidence and telling him that he could do it—he had but to try.

Lor opened his mouth, not even realising he had closed them, and looked at Ard, who was giving him an encouraging smile, his injured hand lying still in Lor's lap. Lor smiled back and looked at the journal again, the connection causing the air between them to crackle slightly. This was the first time someone had trusted him so completely, and the gravity of that made him swallow nervously.

Well, he had to learn sometime, right?

With Ard's hand still on his shoulder, providing the much-needed support and power for this, he carefully took the broken hand in his own and concentrated, trying to follow the diagrams and instructions to the letter. Unlike the more destructive spells and techniques, this required a far stronger will and the strongest intention to do good—to mend instead of break. For a few minutes, Lor made several false starts, unsure of _how_ to shape the magic into a finely shaped instrument of healing, as opposed to the blunt hammer of destruction. Gods, this was even worse than simple levitation!

Then, as if someone was holding a burning torch to his palms, the air grew hot between them. He gasped and looked down and saw a faint, green light hovering between his hands, enveloping Ard's. The grip on his shoulder tightened slightly, but a quick glance at Ard revealed that he was clearly doing something right, judging by the slight smile on the other's face. Lor tightened his jaw and continued, trying to figure out the correct path from this point. It was supposed to be warmer, and both the healer and the one being healed were supposed to feel like they were being submerged into a pool of water. So what now? More energy? He tried, taking more from the connection with Ard and pouring it into the healing light.

"Ah..."

He wasn't sure which one of them made the noise, but Lor wouldn't be surprised if it were himself. The sensation that was radiating from his hands, along with Ard's connection, felt _marvellous_. The first pleasured moan was followed by another, and soon they were both panting from exertion and something that could only be perversely described as pleasure. Was this healing magic, or had Lor accidentally done something else.

His answer came in the form of a loud click and a sharp intake of breath, and the sudden loss of the intense connection the two warlocks had shared as Ard suddenly shot backwards, cradling his hand.

Lor breathed out, exhausted. Even with the transferral of energy between them, the magic had still sapped his. "Did...did it work?" he asked.

Ard didn't answer, but he showed Lor his hand, which was no longer swollen or red, and he could flex and clench it with ease and no show of pain. The smile on his face told Lor all he needed, and he chuckled, relieved that he hadn't ruined everything. He was about to comment on it when Ard was suddenly sitting in front of him, eyes clouded with...desire?

The warlock's lips were suddenly on Lor's, and before he knew it they were both on the floor, devouring each other's mouths and trying to take control. Ard had the enthusiasm, but Lor had the experience (which, in hindsight, he wished he hadn't) and was soon dominating the other, managing to straddle him. He looked down at Ard, grinning.

"Is this because I healed you?" he asked, panting. The sight of Ard lying there with half-lidded eyes and bruised lips...it was impossible to resist. "If so, I think I've found a career—"

"Shut up," Ard said and pulled him back down. Lor was all too happy to oblige, wondering how far the other wanted to go...

"Ahem."

They practically flew apart when someone cleared their throat, rolling off each other and trying to recover from being caught in such a position. Ard's face so red and warm-looking that one could probably fry an egg on it. Lor groaned, both in disappointment and with fatigue, and looked up at the intruder. A tall woman in a military uniform, with dark hair. He had seen her somewhere before...the princess of Hyrule's bodyguard?

"My apologies," the woman said, a slight blush staining her cheeks. She was probably just as embarrassed as them. "I did not mean to interrupt."

"It's...it's okay," Lor said, trying to ignore the fact that Ard was pretending to be busy with anything but looking at the bodyguard, already tying his mask on. "You're the princess' guard, aren't you?"

"Correct," she replied. "Tira Siress, at your service. I have come to fetch the Earl."

"You mean Sheik?" Lor asked, hearing Ard scoff quietly behind him. "He's not here."

"Where is he, then?" Tira asked, frowning slightly.

"We don't know," Lor replied. "We haven't seen him since the Hero came by to speak with him. We went outside and when we came back they were both gone. We assumed they were together."

"Well, they are not," Tira said, the frown deepening. "Hm, this is worrying..." She turned and went for the door.

"Where are you going?"

"To search for him," she replied. "He can't have gone far. And no, I don't require help. You two may carry on. It looked like you were enjoying yourselves."

She left the building and the two heavily blushing boys with a wide grin on her face. It faded soon, however, as she realised she had entire city to search for the Sheikah. Knowing him, however, it would not be difficult. He seemed to attract trouble like moths to a flame, that one. It was just a matter of finding the most troublesome spot in the city, most likely.

* * *

Sheik felt his annoyance grow for every step he had to take through the streets to find somewhere even remotely passable to, as the vernacular was, drink his sorrows away. He hoped it worked for annoyances too. Every place he'd found so far had either been so utterly crowded that it was impossible to even get in, or filthy in such a way that he was sure he'd come out of there covered in soot and dirt and Goddesses knew what else!

He was aware of the strange looks he received from the night owls who were probably searching for the same thing as he, likely after they had been thrown out of a few pubs already. He knew how strange he looked. To their drunken eyes, he must have looked like he'd fallen into a flour bag or something equally idiotic. He didn't care. He bared his teeth at one man who began to laugh, which shut him up rather quickly. Morons. They had no idea who he was or what he was capable of. They were lucky he had something else to do but to make them rue the day they dared to laugh at him.

A chilly wind swept through the streets, and he shivered as it blew right through his outfit. The shirt was a little too big, and it had an annoying tendency to hang off his shoulder, exposing more of his body than he would have liked to the world. Not to mention that it was ruddy cold!

He heard muffled laughter coming from one of the smaller side streets and saw lights bleeding out from coloured windows. A large, green door had a welcoming sign on it, and above it hung a drum that must have looked quite ornate at some point, but was now mostly a faded hunk of wood. The words "The Drum" were set in steel beneath it. A dumb name for a pub, in Sheik's opinion, but at least it looked relatively clean from the outside. The windows were stained glass, so there was no way to look inside. He took a deep breath, fought down a puzzling nervousness that had suddenly started to fill his chest and went inside. The sound of laughter grew much louder, and warm air caressed him as he stepped inside, immediately feeling better.

This was a well cared for tavern. The furniture showed the customary signs of wear and tear, but not in a dingy sort of way. They looked solid, despite their age. The place was well lit, with numerous candles, torches and lamps placed around the large room. A bar stretched from one end of the huge room to the other, behind which the shelves were piled high with bottles and kegs, filled with all sorts of exciting beverages from far and wide—or so Sheik imagined them to be. The clientele seemed to be a mix of locals and the visiting soldiers, all of them from the Luminan armies, by the look of their uniforms. They all seemed content and merry despite the war, but the rose-coloured cheeks and noses of most of them explained that particular puzzle.

A man with a fiddle and another with a piano-like instrument were standing on a small stage in a corner of the tavern, though they were apparently taking a break from playing and enjoying a pair of ales in huge tankards.

Sheik closed the door and took another few steps inside, feeling apprehensive and welcomed at the same time. It was just the place's atmosphere, he supposed. A few heads turned his way, regarded him silently and then went back to their drinking, thinking nothing of his appearance. Perhaps they were too drunk to notice his complexion, hair and eye colour.

He headed for the bar, rooting in the pockets of the trousers for the few coins left behind by the previous wearer. As he passed a table occupied by a very loud group of soldiers, he heard one of them whistle and call lasciviously, "Oi, pretty boy, 'ow much fer an 'our?" He ignored them with gritted teeth and felt his nervousness grow as he squeezed himself into one of the barstools, between two patrons.

"What's your poison?" the bartender said as he noticed the newcomer, pausing when he got a better look at Sheik. ""ey, how old are you?"

"Old enough to have had the worst day in my life where I not only lost the respect of my family but also the love of my life," Sheik said bitterly, glaring at the man. "Old enough to know that at a time like this the only thing that will make me get through the night and morning alive is to drink until the world is upside down!"

The bartender was taken aback by the tone and words and, after a few seconds of careful consideration, said, "Yup, you're eighteen. What'll it be?"

Sheik opened his mouth to reply, but found himself lacking any specific requests. He knew he wanted something containing alcohol, and copious amounts of it, but he had no experience with drinking in general apart from the few times he'd partaken in wine with Zelda. He felt absolutely ridiculous, sitting there as the bartender stared expectantly at him. There was only one thing to say, then, he told himself and shrugged.

"The strongest you've got."

The bartender hesitated. "You sure about that, kid? It ain't a drink for light-weights..."

"You heard me," Sheik repeated, slamming the four coins on the bar, no idea if it would be enough.

It clearly was, for the bartender swiped two of them into his pocket and went for one of the shelves, picking up a bright green, opaque bottle. He popped the cork, keeping the mouth of the bottle well away from his face. He poured the drink, which was just as green as the bottle, into a medium-sized glass and came back, setting it in front of Sheik.

"Go easy on it, yeah?" the bartender said, clearly trying to give him some advice. "This'll knock you on your ass if you're not careful."

"Thanks," Sheik said drily, picking up the glass and sniffing the liquor. It burned his nose in an altogether unpleasant way, which was probably what it was supposed to. He noticed that the patrons on either side of him were giving him sidelong glances, clearly interested in how the kid was going to handle the drink. Sheik scowled and, with no hesitation whatsoever, took a large gulp.

Big mistake.

It burned like hellfire in his mouth, and continued to do so on its way down his throat and into his stomach. He coughed and coughed, feeling like his insides were going to dissolve, his body trying to reject the substance with the help of his lungs. A hand patted his back in a kind gesture, one of the people next to him chuckling slightly. As the coughing slowly subsided and the burning began to lessen, Sheik looked up at the man whose hand had patted him, tears filling his eyes.

"That was impressive," the man told him, grinning. "You didn't even puke!"

Taking it as some kind of approval, Sheik grinned wryly back and focused on the glass, which was still three quarters full. Whatever the evil liquid was, it was clearly effective. He was already feeling a slight buzz in the back of his head. The hurt from breaking it off with Link still clenched around his heart—clearly, he needed more.

He took a smaller drink this time, determined not to end up with another coughing fit. It still burned like molten lead had been poured down his throat, but it was nowhere near as bad as the first time. He only let out one cough, much to the approval of his newfound acquaintance. The bartender was even impressed, shaking his head in disbelief. Sheik felt oddly proud of this—it was like he had passed some sort of test, a sort of rite of passage into manhood. He repeated the action several times until the glass was only a quarter full, and by then his head was pleasantly numb, like someone had stuffed the inside of it with cotton.

Unfortunately, while the rational part of his mind was being poisoned into sleep, the irrational part (which he now dubbed Speil's part) of it was still going strong. And with it, the anger that was haunting and taunting him continued to simmer and burn, much like the green drink. Wasn't drinking supposed to make a person mellow and calm? At the moment he was just annoyed, angry, dizzy and numb. Perhaps he needed more. He finished the glass in a single gulp, hissing at the burning sensation. He motioned for the bartender.

"Another one," he said, though the words came out a bit slurred, which made him blush.

"You sure?" the bartender asked hesitantly.

"Do I look like someone who would ask if not sure?" Sheik asked, glaring.

"You look like someone who's had a rough day and needs to go home and get some sleep," the bartender said with a shrug, but took the remaining coins anyway and refilled Sheik's glass.

"Good luck with that," the patron next to Sheik said and got out of his seat. "Time to head home for me."

"Have a pleasant journey," Sheik said, confusing himself. He didn't know the man, why was he wishing him a pleasant journey—which wasn't even a bloody journey! He shook his head and took a drink, his head lolling slightly from side to side. Goddesses this thing was strong! He giggled slightly, catching himself and feeling horrified. What would Link say if he saw him now?

 _Not any of his damn business!_ he reminded himself, gritting his teeth. _Not his responsibility any more!_

He didn't notice someone new slipping into the seat beside him, didn't notice the way they were ogling his smooth skin where the shirt was hanging off his shoulder. Only when they reached out to run a finger along his clavicle did he react, slapping the offending limb away.

"Whoa, easy there," the newcomer said, chuckling. "Ain't mean no harm."

"Then don't fucking touch me," Sheik said sharply.

The man chuckled again. "Whooo, you got claws, don't cha?"

Sheik drank, and glared at the man. It was a bit difficult to keep his vision steady and clear enough to make out his features. The only thing he could say for sure was that he was a soldier—his uniform was a dead giveaway.

"What do you want?" Sheik asked, not really in the mood for a physical altercation. Maybe he could just scare the man away.

"Like my friend asked when you came in," the soldier said, leaning in close to whisper into Sheik's ear. "How much for an hour?"

"Not for sale," Sheik said with a grunt, returning his attention to his drink. He wanted to punch the man, but that would probably get him thrown out, and he wanted to at least finish his drink first.

"Come on, there's gotta be a price," the soldier pressed. "Someone as pretty as you, wearing that...you gotta be a whore."

"I'm not, so bugger off." Sheik wanted to congratulate himself for the amount of restraint he was showing.

"We'll pay enough to keep you supplied with these for weeks," the soldier said, pointing at Sheik's glass. "Hell, we'll pay you _in_ 'em if you like."

Goddesses, the bastard was stubborn! He froze when an arm was suddenly draped around his shoulder, the stinking breath of the man washing over his face as the lips came within inches of his ear. "Are these sensitive? They look like they are..."

"Wha—hah!" His protest died in his throat as the sting of pleasure shot through him the second the soldier playfully bit the outer shell of his ear. The man chuckled at the moan and took it as an invitation to continue. Sheik mewled in an attempt at protesting, and managed to push the soldier slightly away. "Stop that!" he yelled. The slap came out of nowhere, knocking his head to the side, only for a strong hand to grab his chin to wrench it back to face the soldier, at which point his lips were claimed by the man's own in an intrusive, violent kiss that all but said to Sheik that he was an object, a thing to be possessed, and fucked.

The anger grew until it was a white-hot ball of lead in the pit of stomach, far worse than any amount of the liquor he'd just had. When a hand disappeared up his shirt, caressing his stomach, it exploded. He tore himself out of the kiss, reared his head back, and slammed his forehead into the soldier's nose. It broke, squirting warm blood in Sheik's face as the man toppled backwards off his stool, crashing onto the floor.

Sheik fell off his as well, his head spinning from both the alcohol and the fact that his aim had been off, giving him quite a headache. He slowly climbed to his feet, aware that the entire tavern had fallen silent apart from the man cradling his broken nose with pitiful whines. A few people were grinning madly at the scene, but most were looking at him with disapproval. Did all of them think he was a whore? There were sounds of chairs scraping along the floor near the door, and he saw the soldiers around it standing up, none of them looking pleased. It made sense, given the fact that Sheik had just knocked their friend to the floor.

Now would have been a good time to run, he knew, but his current inebriation would make it a difficult task to make it to the door in a straight line, much less one wading through a group of angry soldiers. His own anger had not yet abated either, and all he wanted to do was to make each of them suffer in the same way their friend was. As if to prove this point, he got to his feet and kicked the prone soldier between the legs as hard as he could. The soldier shrieked and immediately cradled his balls, clearly counting them more important than his ruined mess of a nose.

"You wanna join 'im?!" Sheik shouted, not caring that he sounded like a common drunkard. "Step righ' up!"

The soldiers were clearly in a suicidal mood that...morning? The first one to reach Sheik found himself tripping over the boy's leg, which was suddenly in his way. He crashed into the bar with a loud "Oof!", upsetting another patron enough for him to smack him on the head with his tankard. The four others realised that the "whore" apparently knew how to fight, even when in a drunken state and took their time to approach him, slowly fanning out to surround him.

Sheik grinned and dropped into a slightly more bent combat stance. The world was spinning more than a little now, and he was barely able to keep his attention on one man, let alone his three friends.

The first attack came from behind, and the man managed to get his arms around Sheik, trying to hold him still while the three others attacked the now defenceless prey. Just as the front soldier reached him, however, Sheik pushed his weight backwards and lifted his lower body, delivering a devastating kick to the man's jaw. There was a loud crack, and down he went. When his feet hit the floor again, Sheik slammed the back of his head into the face of the one holding him. It didn't make him let go, but it was enough for Sheik to free his arms, immediately taking hold of one of the man's fingers, viciously bending it backwards. It broke with a sickening snap, and the man howled in pain, releasing Sheik.

He stumbled forwards, and something crashed into his side and sent him tumbling to the floor. He coughed, realising that the either the third or the fourth soldier had kicked him. He was unable to turn the tumble into an elegant roll that brought him back to his feet. It was more of a series of trips and eventually had him standing up again, though it was far from steady.

The one he'd kicked was down for the count, apparently, leaving three more, though the one whose finger he'd broken didn't seem to keen on getting back in the fray. The rest of the clientele in the bar was enraptured with the fight, no one stepping in to stop it, not even the bartender. Why was this brawl so bloody fascinating, anyway?

The two uninjured soldiers attacked him at the same time, and Sheik found himself unable to dodge them both. He avoided the punch from the first man, but took the next one right in the jaw. Another blow caught him in the left eye right after. He lost his balance and landed on the floor, someone's boot immediately hitting his stomach. He coughed, and was rewarded with another kick. Growling, he caught the boot the third time and twisted. He heard a pained yell and a body hitting the floor right after, and he scrambled back to his feet, barely ducking under a right hook and slamming his shoulder into someone's stomach. The assailant doubled over from the blow, leaving his face in perfect range for Sheik's knee, which caught him just under the chin. He was out cold before he hit the floor.

A clumsy punch was aimed at him from the broken-fingered one, and Sheik's spinning mind decided to take him out in a very short process he dubbed "the double". Seizing hold of the uninjured hand, he snapped a finger on that one as well (the same one, in fact), leaving the soldier with two crippled hands.

 _Good luck punching with_ that! Sheik thought triumphantly, stumbling around to take care of the last man. All the air was forced out of his lungs as someone kneed him in the gut and forced him to his knees. He froze when the cold edge of a blade came to rest on his throat.

"Piece of shit whore!" the last soldier snarled. "I'll fucking kill you!"

Cool air blasted into the room as the door slammed open, causing every head in the tavern to turn in its direction. Sheik was barely able to see a silhouette standing there, much less who the hell it was. The newcomer immediately sprinted into the tavern, drawing their sword and swinging. There was a gurgle, and blood sprayed on the floor. Some of it spattered on Sheik's face, though he was too busy wondering what had just happened to notice. The grip on his shoulder slackened, and the blade against his neck clattered to the floor as the owner fell to the floor.

"Back off!" a female voice said. "Back off! In the name of Princess Zelda of Hyrule, back the hell off, or you're next!"

There were murmurs of protest and gasps of shock as the sword was sheathed and Sheik was hauled to his feet. It was still blurry, but he recognised Tira's face. He glanced at the body on the floor, and saw that the bodyguard had slit the man's throat open with a single cut with her blade. Had she wanted, she could have taken his whole head off.

"Are you all right?" she asked Sheik, looking him in the eyes. "You're bleeding."

"Yeah, yeah..." Sheik said in a tone that did not fit with the situation. "Jus' a minor dispute ov'r prostu...prosi...prositu...whoring."

"Goddesses, you're drunk," Tira said with distaste as she began to pull him towards the door.

"Yes I am!" he announced proudly, all traces of anger gone now that he had someone familiar to talk to.

"Oi, what am I going to do about this mess, then?!" the bartender called after them.

"Notify the guards of what happened and refer them to the Hyrulian embassy!" Tira called back, grimacing. She slammed the door shut behind them, and Sheik shivered in the cold air.

"Zelda is going to kill me for this," Tira muttered. "What happened in there?" she demanded, leaning Sheik against a wall to sheathe her sword and get a good look at him, examining a small beneath his eye that Sheik had no idea how had got there.

"Told you," Sheik said, trying to bat her hands away. "Min'r dispute."

"You took down four guards, two of whom looked permanently injured, on your own while drunk off your ass," Tira summed up for him. "That's not something that happens after a 'minor dispute'." She sighed. "What the hell am I going to tell the princess, huh? You might have sparked an international incident tonight!"

Sheik frowned. he hadn't thought about that. Then he realised something. "You're th' one that killed 'im..."

"If I hadn't, he would have killed _you_ ," she pointed out. "Now tell me what the hell was bad that you had to start a fight like that."

Sheik shook his head, suddenly feeling ashamed. What if she was right? What if he'd caused trouble for Zelda tonight? "He touched me," he said simply. "Kissed me. Didn't give 'im permis...perms...didn't want 'im to."

The anger faded from Tira's blurred face immediately at that, and all she could do in response was to sigh, take careful hold of him and start half-carrying him in a seemingly random direction. Sheik wanted to ask why that was enough for her to understand his reaction, but held his tongue. She was already upset enough. He made a note he doubted he'd remember to let Zelda know it was all his fault if she got angry.

"Where're we goin'?" he asked instead.

"To the temporary embassy," Tira replied. "It's probably the only safe place for you right now."

""m sorry..." he muttered.

"I'm not the one you should apologise to," Tira said.

"You're right...I'll tell Zelda..." He suddenly found it difficult to speak, his tongue refusing to cooperate.

"Not just her," the bodyguard said. "A certain Hero, too."

"Yeah, yeah..."

He was unable to finish the sentence or voice his fears that Link wouldn't accept his apology, because the alcohol overwhelmed his system at that moment, and he fell asleep almost momentarily. Tira sighed again and put an arm behind his knees, lifting him up and carrying him bridal-style to the embassy, hoping to the Goddesses that their mistakes that morning wouldn't have dire consequences.

Hopefully, saving Zelda's adopted brother's life would give Tira a few bonus points for future use.


	9. Chapter 9

**Soul Remnants**

**Chapter 81**

* * *

Rial's chest felt tight as he looked down at the pale, still body in the bed. The sheets were drawn up to cover up everything but the person's face. He glanced at the usually immaculate patch of beard on his lower chin, wondering how in the world the man had found the time to groom it so perfectly, even when the world had been falling apart around them.

"So that's it, huh, old man?" he said quietly, almost bitterly. "You get to have some rest for once in your life, while I'm left here to struggle with an army I didn't even want in the first place. That's just unfair, that is."

He sat on the stool next to the bed, still feeling a bit dizzy from the pounding his head had taken during the battle in the air. Fortunately, the concussion was far less severe than the medics had first thought, but he was still told to take it easy in the next few weeks. That advice had made him want to laugh—as if he had the time to slow down. Technically, he was still supposed to be in bed, but he'd be damned if he was going to miss saying a final goodbye to his best friend. Of course, Rial hadn't realised that until he received the news.

"You're a selfish bastard," he said wryly. "What the hell am I supposed to do now, huh? You kept me grounded this entire time. Without you, we would've lost the war before it even started." He picked up the cane that stood by the bed. It looked almost forlorn, like it knew that its owner had passed. "Knowing my luck, I'm going to fuck this up..."

He'd passed during the night, he was told. The surgeon had done her best to keep him alive, to patch him up, but it was a lost cause. Stomach wounds were a doctor's worst nightmare, they said, because they are extremely difficult, if not outright impossible, to fix.

At least he had been kept comfortable. He'd been conscious for most of the operation, albeit fed with as much whiskey as he'd wanted, and eventually sedated. By the time the surgeon realised there was nothing she could do, she'd ensured he had enough morphine to never worry about anything again. He had gone in his sleep, and as far as Rial was concerned that was for the best. The man knew how to put on a brave face, but a wound like that would have been unbearable, especially once the toxic shock set in.

"Lucky son of a bitch," Rial muttered, laying the cane on Sid's chest. "Guess I can't blame you, though. I have a feeling this war is going to get a lot worse before it gets better, even with the advantage we have in the ship." He sighed. "Worst part is, I don't even know who to contact regarding your funeral engagements. You never told me where you were born, or where you lived before joining the military." He grinned, though it was mostly bitter. "Come to think of it, I didn't know anything about you. Isn't that pathetic? I considered you my best friend and all I knew for sure about you was the fact that you used to be a spy, and even then I don't know for whom you actually spied. As far as I'm concerned, you could have been a spy from Hyrule, or someone else. You certainly got along well with the princess..."

He shook his head. Now was not the time for suspicions. Princess Zelda had showed herself to be nothing but genuine in her intentions to help so far, and while there was always the possibility that she was doing this to curry favour with Victor, he didn't mind. Even if they eventually got married, he wouldn't mind.

Well, maybe he would mind a _little_. But he would do so in silence.

"Pathetic, isn't it?" he asked Sid, who only offered silence and a small, yet oddly satisfied smile in return. Rial wondered what the man had been dreaming as he passed. It must have been pleasant. "Here I am, mourning you, and yet I still pine for him. Talk about priorities, eh? Knowing you, though, you would have grinned and told me to go ahead." He chuckled. "You were so inappropriate..."

He realised he was tearing up as he spoke, and he wiped his eyes as he stood up. "You would've drawn the line at crying, though, I'm sure. You would have told me to stop actin' like a wee boy who'd just skinn'd 'is knee, wouldn't you? So I won't, and I will leave my grief here, with you, because you would have wanted me to stay focused on the task at hand. So...I suppose that's my cue to leave." He turned and went for the door, and paused as he reached for the knob, went back to the bed and drew the sheet up to cover Sid's face as well. "I will never forget you, my friend," he whispered and patted the cane, and left the room.

Outside, he leaned against the door and let out a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding. He hadn't realised how hard it would be to lose Sid, but now that he was gone...he knew that the coming weeks, or months, would be much more difficult without him.

"He...passed, then?" a careful voice asked from down the hall. It was dark, the windows covered with drapes to keep the chill out since most of them were broken. Only a few candles and oil lamps gave any illumination. Rial could only see the outline of the person who'd asked, but he recognised him immediately by his hair and general movements.

"Yes, he did, professor," Rial replied as Jedistern Tadian emerged from the shadows. He looked exhausted, and covered in soot and oil. He must have thrown himself into the job of repairing _The Chimera_ without even taking a break after landing. "Sometime during the night. Painless and in his sleep, I was told. High as a kite too."

"The best way, then," Jedistern said, giving a wry smile. "I certainly hope I'm not awake when my time comes."

"I hope I _am_ ," Rial said, shrugging. "I want to see it coming."

Jedistern looked at him carefully and leaned against the wall opposite, arching an eyebrow that disappeared into his practically orange hair, which looked far less wild and uncontrolled than usual.

"I hope you are not a death-seeker, general?" he said, sounding like he was asking a question while making a statement at the same time. He shook his head. "No, of course not. You possess a certain vitality, even in the face of loss and adversity, that won't allow you to throw away your life. At least not before your purpose has been completed."

Rial narrowed his eyes. "I'd rather you didn't analyse me, if it's all the same to you, professor. I won't let myself die until I've seen _The Chimera_ go up in flames in the wake of our victory."

"That is all I ask," the engineer said, nodding. He glanced at the door behind Rial, shaking his head. "Such a shame...he was a good man."

"No, he wasn't," Rial said, shaking his head. "He was better than most, I suppose, but the things he did...the things _we_ have done...that makes us anything but good men. But he did what was necessary, and I respect him for that."

"Well, he certainly seemed like a good man in the short time I knew him," Jedistern said, not pressing the issue. "Damn excellent captain, that's for certain. He took to the principles of flight like a natural, and commanded the airmen like he'd done it for all his life."

"I suppose we made a good choice when we picked him, then," Rial said, remembering how sceptical he'd been at giving Sid, of all people, the command of their biggest asset at the time. He'd never regretted the decision, however.

"We did...although now we face the choice again," Jedistern noted.

"Who will the new captain be?" Rial asked out loud, hoping for a miracle. It would have to be one of the officers, most likely. They didn't have time to train someone completely new, but from what he'd learned as he'd observed the crash-course in aeronautics the prospective candidates had received back when controlling the airship had been but a dream, very few of them had the...what was it, natural charisma and presence to take command of such a force.

"I'd like to volunteer for the job," said a new voice from the shadows, though the newcomer did not immediately step into the light. It was familiar, though. Rial recognised her, and he smiled slightly as she emerged from her hiding place, looking slightly ashamed at having spied on them and blown her own cover. He wondered how long she'd been there—had she been following him?

"Is that so, Miss Elenwe?" Rial asked.

"Just Elenwe, I am far from a miss," she corrected him.

"Do you have any qualifications that would make suited for the job?" Jedistern asked, unable to stop himself from staring at the wrapped stump where Elenwe's arm had used to be.

Rial noted that, even in her injured condition, she walked and bore herself like a predator, ready for a fight at any second. The sword in her belt said the same in a less subtle language than that of her body. He'd received the reports, she had fought and killed well over fifteen men on her own during Iteos' betrayal...and knowing that made him fear her slightly. What would she be capable of once her leg had healed completely and she'd learned to work around her handicap?

She noticed them both staring at lacking limb, and rolled her eyes, letting them know that she clearly didn't consider it a major issue.

"Qualifications?" she asked, chuckling. "Well, does a lifetime of maritime experience count as qualification? I've lived and served on ships from the day I was born until about...well, two or three years now, I suppose."

"What kind of ships?" Jedistern asked. "Merchants, perhaps?"

She snorted. "Hah, those little, piddly-ass dinghies? As if! I'm talking warships, professor. Frigates, schooners! Ships with enough cannons to tear anything apart. In short, sea-faring versions of your little toy out there." She sneered disdainfully at the idea of her serving on a merchant ship.

"That is quite...unexpected," Jedistern said, furrowing his brow. "I was led to believe the Gerudo mostly lived in the desert."

"Most do, but my particular clan left and made a life sailing the seas instead," Elenwe replied, sounding proud. "And I daresay we have a lot more fun than our dear cousins back in Hyrule."

"So...er...how does having served on a ship make you qualified to be a captain?" Rial said, hoping to avoid a discussion of the origins of Gerudo culture and what had caused Elenwe's clan to break with the main body of their civilization. It was probably fascinating, but not really important at the moment. "What position did you have?"

She looked thoughtful at that. "Well, I have served in every role from cabin boy to cook to, the most relevant, I believe, captain."

"You were a captain?" Jedistern asked. "But you are so young...how old were you then?"

"Sixteen, I believe I was when my mother decided I was ready," she said. "Give or take a year, I cannot rightly remember. I do remember the first time I took the wheel, however, and first realised that the ship was truly mine. And I did damn well, too...brought home more loot than any of the other captains, that's for sure."

"Loot?" Rial asked. "You were a pirate?"

"Well, yes," she said, shrugging. "We may not have lived in the desert, but the thief thing...well, it doesn't leave you easily." She laughed. "We didn't kill anyone, though. Well, there were a few accidents, but I certainly ensured that the crews of the ships we attack remained mostly untouched once they'd surrendered."

"And the crew obeyed you?" Jedistern asked. "They respected you?"

"Well, they didn't like me very much at first, mostly because they thought I was given the ship just because my mother was the clan leader—or Admiral, as she liked to call herself—but I won them over quickly. And they certainly loved me after I saved the life of every woman aboard when we were caught in an ambush."

"Every...woman?" Jedistern asked. "Weren't there any men on board?"

Elenwe looked like she was going to burst out laughing, but she reined herself in quickly and shook her with amusement instead. "All-female race, professor," she said. "We get something like _one_ man a century, and the last one turned out to be an utter arse. Just ask Link or Sheik...or the princess, for that matter."

Jedistern nodded slowly, the cogs in his head practically visibly turning as he digested this particular piece of information. How on earth a man who was proclaimed to be a genius could have missed the fact that the Gerudo race mostly consisted of women was a mystery. Even Rial knew that, and he hadn't spent much time studying or contemplating the dark-skinned thieves of the desert. Then again, being an engineer, anthropology was probably not high on the list of fields that the professor found interesting.

"Then...how do you reproduce?"

Both Rial and Elenwe blinked at that. They should have seen the question coming, but it still caught them by surprise.

"The old-fashioned way?" Elenwe tried, laughing. "There's no big secret to it," she said. "We, er, find ways to coerce a man—usually Hylians—to do their thing for a night or two, and then we part ways, both happy. There have been times where we have been less...polite about it, but when it comes to the survival of one's people one does not remain picky for long."

"I see..."

"Bringing the conversation back on topic," Rial said, not interested in hearing anything more about the reproductive habits of the Gerudo. "Do you think you could learn the basics of flying the ship and ingratiate yourself with the crew in less than a month?"

"Sure thing," Elenwe replied immediately. "As far as I can tell, it's just like sailing a ship, except there's one more dimension to consider. Oh, and you don't have to worry about wind, apart from it tossing you around like a ragdoll, of course."

Rial and Jedistern exchanged a look. "Well, she seems to have the basics in," Rial said.

"And most of the actual flying is done by engineering," Jedistern continued.

"And you only need one hand for turning the wheel anyway," Elenwe supplied helpfully.

"I can't just give you the command like that," Rial said. "But if Jedistern would like to give you a lesson or two in the physics required and let you try your hand..."

"Would be my pleasure."

"Then I suppose there is no logical reason for me to say no," Rial said, nodding. "Captain on probation, then," he said. "Do keep in mind that you will be under _my_ command, however."

"Absolutely, general sir," Elenwe said, saluting. "You can count on me!"

* * *

The world was rolling beneath him, and a white-hot nail was being shoved through his brain. His stomach felt like a turbulent sea, and somehow even thinking about moving had him convinced that he would spew everything out all over...the bed he was lying in.

_Bed?_

Sheik couldn't remember having gone to sleep in a bed. Come to think of it, he couldn't remember where, when or how he'd gone to sleep in the first place. The last thing he could remember was some sort of vile, green liquid sloshing down his throat and the sensation of it eating away at his insides, and an intense, inner fire that had only grown bigger and bigger as it blazed through the night. And then someone had chewed on his ear...

It all came back in a rush, and he sat up in the bed so fast that he was immediately overcome by dizziness. He groaned and dared to crack his eyes open just a bit—and he tanked the Goddesses for the fact that the room was dark. His stomach roiled and he leaned over the side of the bed, pleasantly surprised to find an empty chamber pot on the floor, thoughtfully placed there by someone.

Having mostly emptied himself, he lay still on the bed, feeling marginally better. His face hurt, and he knew that it was bruised from the punches he'd taken during the fight. He'd been so clumsy, so...pathetic. And angry, above all. It was a wonder no one had gotten killed, really, and...

 _Wait...someone did die,_ he thought, remembering Tira coming to his rescue after he'd effectively could he have been so stupid and irresponsible? _Oh, right...Link..._

He groaned again and squeezed his eyes shut, trying not to let the memories of breaking up with Link overwhelm him. "Goddesses," he whispered.

"You can say that again," said a voice gently from somewhere to his right. He turned his head towards the source, but the rest of his body refused to cooperate. He must have looked so utterly helpless right then. Zelda sat in a comfortable-looking chair by the window, which was covered with drapes. How long had she been there, just waiting for him to wake up? "How are you feeling?" she asked.

"Like a pig shat in my head," Sheik said earnestly. That did indeed sum up how he was feeling at the moment, ineloquent as it was.

"Yes, absinthe apparently does that to a person," the princess said, standing up to pour water into a goblet from a pitcher and bringing it to him, limping. "Here, drink." When he tried to refuse, she sighed irritably. "You are severely dehydrated and will not be able to function properly until you've restored your fluid balance. Now drink, or I will get a funnel."

That was a threat he did not want to test, so he took the glass from her and tried to get as much of it down as possible, though it left his stomach even more upset than it already was.

"So, are you going to tell me what the hell you were thinking?" she asked, still as quietly as before, though there was definitely an edge to her voice that warned him not to skirt around the issue, or even _think_ about lying.

"What is there to tell?" he asked, clearing his throat. It felt like someone had shoved a bag of sand down his throat. "I'm sure Link has already told you."

"What he has told me does not matter, though I feel it prudent to point out to you just how devastated he was," she said, sniffing, wrinkling her nose in distaste at the smell of booze, sleep and vomit that permeated the air. She went for the chamber pot and opened the door to the hallway, leaving it outside for someone to collect. She then opened a window, letting just the tiniest sliver of sunlight into the room. It was enough for the nail in Sheik's head to grow even hotter. He clenched his eyes shut and rolled over, trying to escape the searing light. "Are you listening to me?" her voice cut through the wanted silence.

"I'm listening," Sheik said irritably. Of course he knew Link was devastated. He imagined that however bad he himself felt about the break, the Hero felt ten times worse. Sheik was surprised _Link_ wasn't the one to go drinking last night.

"Good," the princess said, coming to sit on the edge of the bed, looking down at him with a face that was neither comforting nor judging. She was trying to be neutral. "I hope it makes you feel foolish, because that is exactly how you have been acting."

"Par for the course, at this point," he mumbled. "Breaking up was the best idea."

"I'm sorry?" she asked in disbelief. "You think leaving Link was a _good_ idea?"

"Better to break it off now than to have us hating each other." He pulled the covers over his head. Even that small movement alone made him want to vomit again, but he fought it down. "I could see it in his eyes...I look too much like _him_ now..."

Zelda pursed her lips, taking in Sheik's appearance in the weak light from the window. "Your complexion has certainly taken a hit for the worse, and your hair...but as far as I can see, your face hasn't changed. It was a shock to him, certainly, but Link is smarter than you give him credit for sometimes. Give him some time, and he will only see you."

"But, my anger—"

"Is something you will have to learn to control, and I will gladly assist you in that, if you will let me."

"I..."

She reached down and brushed his bangs out of his eyes, resting her cool hand on his forehead. It felt like heaven. "Just let us help you. Stop insisting on handling everything yourself for once. Don't make me give you an order," she added with a wink.

There was no point in arguing against her, he knew, and even if there was he had not a single ounce of energy to put towards doing it. His mind simply wouldn't catch up with the situation apart from the bare minimum required to actually understand what Zelda was saying. He nodded, which seemed to be the right thing to do since the cool hand moved to stroke his head gently.

"Good, it's about damn time." She sighed, and then her face went serious, and Sheik knew that he clearly wasn't out of the woods just yet. "There's one more thing, Sheik, and I am not giving you a choice about it."

"And that is?" he asked carefully.

"No more drinking. Ever." She said, her hand pausing, a small tremor passing through her. "Tira told me what happened, where and how she found you."

"Goddesses, I'm sorry, I—"

"Let me finish," she interrupted. "You beat the hell out of at least four men and permanently maimed another. You were about to get your throat slit by a fifth, but Tira intervened and...finished him before he had a chance to kill you."

"Let me explain—"

"I don't need you to," she said, sounding irritated by his words. "I sent Tira to the general this morning, and a quick investigation was conducted by some of his men. The death was ruled as self-defence and no further actions will be taken due to extenuating circumstances, on the general's orders." She made him look at her. "Someone died because of you, Sheik. One of our allies. He might have started it, but if you had been sober you could have stopped the fight before it progressed to such a point. The only reason I haven't punished you is because Tira told me that the soldiers tried to...well, they took certain liberties with you despite you saying no. The innkeeper told us the story."

His face burned with embarrassment and shame. "I'm sorry."

"I'm not the one you should apologise to, Sheik," she said, shaking her head. "Tira will be along in an hour or so, I believe. She's the one who saved your life and offered to take responsibility for the man's death. You will thank her when she arrives."

"Yes, Zelda—"

"Hm?"

"...yes, Zelly..."

"Good boy," she said, kissing his forehead. "Now, you should get some sleep. I will wake you when Tira gets back, and then we're having a very late breakfast, is that understood?"

"Uh, breakfast—"

"It will settle your stomach. Oh, and I'm inviting Link, so you'd better prepare yourself for that."

"Zelda—"

"If you think I'm going to let the two of you split up so easily, you are sorely mistaken."

"Why? Why is it so important to you that Link and I are together?" he asked, frustrated that she was more or less taking control of his life. Though in hindsight, he hadn't managed to do very well when controlling it himself.

She hesitated, and said, "Because he's good for you. And you're good for him. And I love you both too much to let you ruin this because you're afraid of looking in a mirror. Now, sleep."

She gave him no opportunities to protest, fetching her cane and leaving the room. Sheik wanted to jump out of bed and dash after her, to explain exactly why he had done what he did, but his body would not cooperate, and the idea of getting some more sleep was rather tempting, though the promise of food afterwards worried him. And what would Link say?

That question continued to swirl in his mind as he let the oblivion of sleep claim him once more. And he felt a bit calmer, in spite of everything.

* * *

**Soul Remnants**

**Chapter 82**

* * *

Victor was awoken by the carriage coming to a sudden, violent stop that threw him out of the seat he was sleeping in. He smelled the dusty, carpeted interior as his brain slowly came to the realisation of where he was and why he was there. It was dark, the lantern that had hung from the ceiling having run out of oil possibly hours ago. The windows were covered, to keep him from seeing where he was...or to prevent anyone from seeing who was inside the carriage. Not that it would be an effective measure, given it was the _royal_ bloody carriage they were transporting him in. He shivered—it was cold.

He sighed, cursing everyone and everything that had led to this point. For what felt like the millionth time, he wished he could go back to the moment Rehm had convinced him to have Victor's father murdered and just have all the conspirators arrested and executed on the spot. Or, not executed. Imprisoned. For life. In isolation. He punched carriage floor, scratching at the carpet and trying to tear it out, groaning in frustration.

People were shouting outside the carriage, and he heard footsteps passing all around it. He fingered his pocket, where the piece of bone he'd sharpened rested. He had to pick his moment perfectly. Someone was approaching the carriage door, he heard the locks being unlatched and opened. He tried to sit up and arrange himself to _not_ look like he'd just woken up and fallen to the floor, but that was difficult in complete darkness.

The door opened, and Victor was blinded by the light, hissing in pain.

"Ah, you're awake, Your Majesty, how fortunate," Rehm's positively cheerful voice said. It sickened Victor to the core. Anything that made Rehm happy was undoubtedly bad news for everyone else. Nothing had made the King happier than the panic Rehm had been exhibiting back in the capital just before they'd left.

Victor's scathing reply was interrupted by the chattering of his teeth, spurred by the freezing air that blew into the carriage. Wherever they were, it was far colder there than in the city. He settled on glaring in the general direction of Rehm's voice instead, though it was more of a miffed squint than a withering gaze of absolute hate. It clearly didn't have the intended effect, judging by the amused chuckle that came from Rehm.

"Now, come on out of there so we can get you settled in your temporary quarters," the councillor continued.

"G-go t-t-to hellll!" Victor stuttered.

"Such uncouth words, far beneath those of a King," Rehm sniffed, his appearance becoming clearer and clearer as Victor's eyes adjusted to the light. He was wearing thick furs and had a most jovial expression on his face, a far cry from the panicked old man he'd been in the city. He was carrying another bundle of furs under his arm. "Now, you can either do as I say and I will give you this very warm article of clothing, or you can continue acting like a petulant child and freeze to death on this mountain. Your choice."

Mountain. So they'd already reached their destination. Victor wanted to argue more, wanted to use his weapon and gouge out those amused orbs in Rehm's eye sockets...and what then? He was still surrounded by soldiers who didn't serve the King, but Rehm. And gods knew what such an army would do once they were left leaderless. No, the time was not right just yet, so he his lip and nodded, holding out a hand. Rehm grinned and handed him the coat. Victor wrapped it around himself, making sure to make it absolutely clear that he wasn't happy about it.

"Get him out," Rehm told someone next to him. "And be gentle, for Goddesses' sake. He's the King."

A pair of strong-looking men more or less pulled him out of the carriage and carefully set him down on the road. They had the decency of looking apologetic about it, but it made Victor hate them even more. They _knew_ what they were doing was wrong.

The air smelled of burning wood, and as he looked around, Victor gasped. They were standing on the road that led up to the Winter Palace, and it became clear why the carriage had stopped. The road itself was pockmarked with holes and craters, making it useless to travel for anything larger than a horse. The carriage would have to be left behind. In fact, it wasn't as much a road anymore as it was a battlefield. The Palace itself was built on a cliff overlooking a wide expanse of flat terrain that consisted mostly of rocks, smaller rocks and the occasional snowdrift. The wind here was too strong for snow to build up any higher. The ground was showing signs of very recent battle—craters and pieces of armour, shields and weapons littered it. Smoke was rising from behind the protective walls of the Palace.

Victor felt sick. Rehm had assaulted the Palace, then. And won, by the looks of things. The knowledge left him with no better feeling than he had the only other time he'd been to the place. It had felt...wrong, back then. Oppressive, like he wasn't meant to be there, and that the sooner he left, the better. Not even the presence of the Silver Guard had comforted him, despite knowing that they were probably the best fighting force Lumina had to offer and could protect his father and him from just about anything.

"Where is the Guard?" he asked without thinking.

Rehm looked at him, quirked an eyebrow and said, "Around. Where they fell. They have been cleaning up in preparation of our arrival, of course."

"Who?"

"Marlotta and her men, of course."

Victor gritted his teeth and aimed several unspoken curses at Countess Marlotta and her line.

"Now, no time to waste!" Rehm announced and began walking up the broken road, heading for the ruined gates, Victor spurred on by his guards right behind him.

Once, the Palace had looked formidable and grand. Now, its walls looked dull and ruined, the colourful banners nowhere to be seen, several of its towers in ruins, archers' positions burned black. The gates hung off their hinges, one of them collapsing just as they reached the top of the hill. The drawbridge had had one of its chains cut and was full of holes and wouldn't take the weight of more than a few people at a time. His guards carefully manoeuvred him over the drawbridge, and Victor had to force himself not to look down. It wasn't a moat that protected the Palace from intruders, but a sheer drop—a gap in the mountain between the approach and the cliff upon which the fortress was built. A last line of defence that had apparently not been as effective as the builders had hoped.

Victor's stomach roiled as they entered the main courtyard and spotted one of Marlotta's attempts at cleaning up. The men and women of the Silver Guard who had died defending the Palace had been unceremoniously piled high in multiple spots, their faces, frozen in various expressions of pain, visible among piles of limbs and armour. Several of them had been stripped, their equipment scavenged by their killers. Victor noted with revulsion that more than a few of Rehm's men were carrying swords and bows of a decidedly higher quality than standard-issue weapons. Some had even appropriated the Guard's cuirasses and boots.

"Have they no shame?" he muttered to himself.

"They fought bravely," Rehm noted, looking at one of the piles. "But even they could not resist the power of progress!" He pointed at several cannons that had been lined up along one of the walls. It appeared that Marlotta's men were in the process of mounting the weapons at strategic points on the walls. "I must remind myself to thank Jedistern Tadian for his designs. Without him, none of this would have been possible."

"Will they at least receive a proper burial?" Victor asked, almost gagging. The piles were a grisly sight that he had not been prepared for. He had believed that his enemies had more honour than this.

"If we can find the time," the councillor said offhandedly. "Right now, we have more pressing matters to attend to. You," he said, pointing at a soldier close by. "Where is the countess?"

"In the keep, sir," the soldier replied.

"Excellent, thank you."

It took them a good fifteen minutes to walk through the series of gates and inner walls that made up the rest of the Palace's defences. These were practically pristine, showing few signs of struggle. The Guard had probably been overwhelmed at the outer wall and failed to withdraw properly. Frozen bloodstains on the cobbles here and there bore witness to the deaths of those who'd tried to pull back. Some of the buildings here showed signs of bombardment, as if Marlotta's artillery had been firing randomly into the fortress at first, probably trying to do as much damage as possible to the garrison before the main assault had taken place.

The countess was not in the keep. She was standing on the steps leading into the richly decorated building that served as the Palace's inner sanctum as well as the King's residence when he visited. As Victor recalled, the carved wooden doors opened into a labyrinth of hallways and corridors he'd never been able to figure out as a child. Marlotta was dressed in her finest winter clothing and jewellery, and her face was powdered and painted. She looked striking, but Victor saw that she was much thinner than she'd been the last time they'd met, and her eyes looked haunted, as if she was in some distant way aware of what she had done here. A fake smile was plastered on as she spotted them and descended the staircase.

"Councillor Rehm, Your Majesty, welcome to the Winter Palace!" she announced, her arms wide open.

"Spare us the pleasantries, Marlotta," Rehm said, an edge to his otherwise friendly voice. "I'd like a full report of what has happened here."

"Of course," she replied, clearly miffed that her welcome had been brushed aside so easily. She looked uncomfortable under Victor's gaze, as well. "What would you like to know first?" she asked as they headed into the keep and, mercifully, out of the cold.

"Any prisoners?" Rehm asked, giving Victor a pointed look.

"Over a hundred members of the Silver Guard surrendered in the end," she answered. That cheered Victor up a bit—at least the guards hadn't _all_ been wiped out. "We executed the last of them this morning." The vague hope of a prisoner revolt was killed as soon as it had appeared. "As per your orders," she added, suddenly looking worried.

"Well done," Rehm said, removing his fur coat and handing it to a waiting underling. "A bit cruel, perhaps, but I do not want to take the risk of a breakout on our hands. It was all done humanely, I hope?"

"We had to sharpen the axe after the first one," muttered one of Marlotta's men.

"They did not suffer any more than they deserved," Marlotta said, shooting the man a dirty look. "I cannot be held responsible for their prior treatment, however, as I was busy focusing on consolidating the territory."

"Oh well, such unpleasantries are one of the facts of war, unfortunately," Rehm remarked. "On second thought, we can deal with the numbers later. For now, I would like His Majesty to be content and safe."

"I have prepared the King's chambers," Marlotta said. "He shall want for nothing."

"Goddesses forbid that he be uncomfortable in the coming time."

They both grinned at that, as if they had just shared some hilarious joke. Victor only noticed it partly, however, as his mind was focused on the fact that Rehm had just sworn to the Goddesses. That was unusual.

He dwelled on this as they passed through the grand hall and reached the King's chambers. Victor had always thought of them as his father's, and even now it was strange to feel that they had passed to him. The feeling passed immediately as he was rudely shoved and locked inside, with muted promises of supper later.

* * *

Marlotta and Rehm withdrew to the office of the Commander of the Guard, where Rehm quickly made himself comfortable behind the now-deceased commander's gigantic desk and extremely comfortable chair.

"The man had taste, I will give him that," Rehm said approvingly.

"Her," Marlotta said, seating herself on the other side. "The last commander of the Guard was a woman. She did not have the decency to die quietly."

"Ah, was it _her_ head I spotted on the pike above the gate? I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me."

"She called me a brown-nosing whore," Marlotta said with a sniff, still looking haunted, to Rehm's displeasure. "I had to make an example of her."

"What kind, exactly?"

"Well, it wasn't _I_ who could be called a whore by the time my men were done with her."

Rehm shook his head. Sometimes even _he_ could be revolted by the things his underlings did. He considered himself lucky that he hadn't been around for the aftermath of the Palace's fall. "Anyway, I am sure you have a whole heap of numbers and such to throw at me, but before you assault me with them, I would like to know about your _progress_."

Marlotta swallowed. That was not a good sign, but Rehm let her answer anyway, knowing he wouldn't like what she was about to say.

"We have begun excavations..." she began.

"But?"

"The going is slow," she admitted, a nervous twitch developing in the corner of her mouth. "The men...they are soldiers, Rehm, not miners. We have already had several collapses that buried a sizable number of them, and the engineers tell me that we may as well blast new tunnels around the ruined ones—"

"Do you have an estimate for me, Marlotta?" Rehm interrupted her, sighing. "That's all I want."

"Half a month, at the least," she admitted.

"Damn it!" Rehm roared, slamming a fist on the oak desk. "We may not _have_ half a month, Marlotta, or even a week! The fucking rebels have the upper hand, and it's only a matter of time before they come here!"

"But I thought you were going to sabotage the road behind you as you went?" she asked carefully.

"We did, but they have the damn airship!" he exclaimed. "A broken road won't slow _that_ down!" He buried his face in his hands, feeling like he was slowly sinking into quicksand. How had things come to this? He'd been on top, the rebels had _nearly_ been defeated...and now they had not only taken _one_ airship, but destroyed the rest as well!

Marlotta squared herself and thrust out her chin in defiance. "Well, getting angry at me isn't going to help," she said. "If you wish, I will throw more men and supplies at the problem, but it won't necessarily solve it any quicker. It's like...the stone itself is resisting. And the seal...we can't put a scratch in it."

"You just leave _that_ to me," Rehm said sourly, already knowing exactly what he was going to do about the Triforce symbol that adorned the former entrance into the mines. "I still have a few tricks up my sleeves."

"Even if we do manage to enter the mines, there's still the matter of the door," she said. "Have you found a solution to that?"

"I have," he confirmed. "The expedition to the Hall of Silence was successful, though I will require some help from you in that matter."

"Anything."

He sighed and leaned back in his chair, feeling tired. So many years of careful planning, and it was all going down the drain because of a few men and a nosy princess who had no business being in Lumina? Half a month, half a month and he would finally accomplish everything he'd worked for.

Marlotta remained silent, probably worried he'd fly off the handle again if she spoke. He wouldn't, most likely. Despite everything he had said and done, he still found her to be useful and a good confidante. She was the only person who knew the whole truth...or, not the _whole_ truth, but as much of it as he wanted anyone to know. If she had been permitted to know absolutely everything, then he had a strong feeling she was going to abandon the cause right there and then. And right now, he needed as many allies as possible, if only to put as many bodies between him and the rebels as he could. A cruel, heartless thought, perhaps, but also the truth. His work was too important to be slowed down by a few deaths.

"On second thought, I'd like some time recover from the journey," he said after a few minutes. "I am an old man, and I am weary. I am certain His Majesty would appreciate some new clothes and a bath, as well."

"I will see to it," Marlotta said, taking her cue and leaving the room.

Rehm rested his hand on the chair's armrest, feeling the grooves where the previous owner had clenched the leather in frustration. "For what it's worth," he muttered, "I did not order her to be cruel."

* * *

Sheik swallowed thickly as he finished his tea, his stomach still rebelling against the food that he'd forced himself to eat. Not that he had much of a choice, given Zelda's less-than-forgiving stare that was levelled at him whenever he tried to hint that he was full. He swallowed again, trying to ignore the saliva that was filling his mouth almost to the point of drooling. It felt like he was going to throw up any second, and it would have been a welcome relief, not to mention a delightful opportunity to show Zelda that she was not right about everything, but it never came. And he had to admit, he felt better being nauseated with a full stomach than with an empty one.

"More tea, Sheik?" Zelda asked sweetly from next to him, giving him a seemingly innocent smile. He turned it down politely, scowling inwardly. She knew exactly how uncomfortable he was, and was milking it for all it was worth. She clearly felt that the lesson needed to be learned the hard way, the wound rubbed with salt. And it was all out of "love", or so she claimed. "No? What about you, Link?"

"No thanks," came the slightly sullen reply from across the table. Sheik had to fight the urge to look at the Hero. Zelda had placed them opposite each other at the table in a bid to force them into conversation, because neither of the two seemed particularly interested in talking about what had happened the night before. It was frustrating the princess, and Sheik had a feeling that Link was taking a bit of pleasure from it as well. She'd calmed him down last night, apparently, but her meddling might be starting to annoy _him_ as well.

"Tira?" Zelda asked finally, smiling across the table.

"Yes, please, Princess."

Sheik glanced at the bodyguard, who was sitting directly across from Zelda. She was clearly uncomfortable, sitting at the princess' table like this. Had this been a gathering of nobles, the outrage would have been immense, but this breakfast (which was more like a very late lunch or very early supper) was an intimate affair conducted on the terrace of the inn, for which only the four of them were gathered. Even though Sheik could tell that Tira and Zelda were far more intimate than was proper for their respective positions, Tira clearly felt that this was overstepping some sort of boundary that no amount of reassurance from the princess could fix.

In a way, Zelda was torturing all three of them, in different ways. What Tira had done to incur Zelda's wrath, Sheik had no idea. As far as he knew, she had done all the right things in saving him from having his throat slit. Perhaps it was Zelda's way of telling Tira not to take responsibility for Sheik's mistakes, even if _he_ hadn't been the one to lop the attacker's head off.

Tira and Sheik's eyes met, and a brief nod was exchanged. They'd spoken briefly before breakfast, and Sheik had thanked her profusely and genuinely for saving his life and taking the blame during the investigation, to which she'd simply nodded. "I protect the Princess," she had said, "and everything and everyone dear to her." She had not hesitated to give him a slight tongue-lashing for his display of irresponsibility by going drinking alone, but it was all done with the highest respect, which felt a bit oxymoronic to Sheik, but he'd accepted it anyway.

"So, Link, what are your plans for the rest of the day...er, night?" Zelda asked, noticing that the sun had nearly set during the course of their meal. She was nibbling on a piece of toast, a piece that had lasted since the food had been served. She hardly ate anything, Sheik noted, which worried him slightly. He suspected it had something to do with her leg. The pain must have been enough for her to lose her appetite. Or perhaps she was too upset with him to eat.

He heard Link clear his throat uncomfortably and could picture the slight shrug the Hero offered Zelda in reply. He still refused to look at Link, however, afraid of what he'd see in the cerulean eyes. If he saw the poorly concealed apprehension and the tiny smidgen of revulsion that filled them when Link had first spotted Sheik's changed appearance, he would not have the strength to go on like this. He'd have to retreat back into the shadows, once again become Zelda's Sheikah, and only that, disappearing whenever the Hero of Time interacted with her. It would be nearly unbearable, but better than having to feign that utterly disgusting politeness that would be required for the awkward and tense conversations that would inevitably follow. Just the thought of it made him sad...and angry. Why should _he_ be the only one feeling like he had to retreat? Why couldn't _Link_ have the decency to step back for once, and just disappear—

A hand rested gently on top of his clenched fist in his lap, squeezing gently, comfortingly. He looked up at Zelda, who gave him a small but encouraging smile. There was that promise again, the one he'd made to allow her to help him through his newly acquired rage. That had annoyed him greatly as well—why shouldn't he be allowed to deal with what was, ostensibly, a new part of his person on his own? Surely they could understand that only _he_ truly knew how it felt to have a new, intruding facet to his personality muscling its way into his life? Was that how Speil had felt all the time? It must have been unbearable...

Zelda squeezed his hand again, and he took a deep breath and forced his heart to slow down, the burning fire in the pit of his stomach to die out, to let rationality snuff out the irrationality of the anger.

And it worked. He focused on the smile, the comforting weight and warmth of her hand...and the anger dissipated as quickly as it had flared to life. Another deep breath, and he gave her a small nod of assurance, letting her know he was all right. The corners of her mouth lifted a fraction higher, a subtle expression of victory. Every triumph was to be celebrated, apparently.

"Sheik? Are you okay?"

His body stiffened considerably at the sound of Link's voice, and he knew he could no longer get away with not looking at the Hero. Sheik slowly turned his head, his eyes refusing to cooperate by focusing on everything but Link. He bit his lip, not caring how vulnerable it made him look in front of everyone, and finally let his one functioning eye rest on the Hero of Time's countenance...and had to bite back a gasp. He had expected to see dislike, if not for him directly, then at least for his ashen skin, his paled hair and his eyes, which now looked like the glowing reds of the Hero's Shadow.

But Link showed him nothing of the kind. There was...discomfort, but not the kind that led to hate or fear, more like the kind that one got used to. But what little of it there was, it was overshadowed by the concern and worry that marred not only Link's beautiful eyes, but also his entire being. The clenched jaw, the tense shoulders, the fingers that were absentmindedly unravelling his napkin, pulling at the loose threads...much like how Sheik himself had felt like he'd been doing to their relationship.

Immense relief filled him then. Link was just as uncomfortable with this as he was, but he seemed determined not to let it ruin absolutely everything. Maybe there was hope after all.

"I'm...fine, Link, thank you," he replied, slowly unclenching his fists as Zelda let go of him.

"Oh, thank the Goddesses," the princess said with a sigh of relief, clicking her tongue. " _Finally_ you talk to each other, I thought I would have to keep up the conversation for all three of you for the rest of the evening." She pushed back her chair and rose to her feet, dabbing at the corners of mouth with a napkin before looking at Tira. "What do you say, Tira? Shall we take a walk and let these two sort things out?"

"Er, yes, Princess," Tira said uncertainly, though clearly relieved that she wouldn't have to endure the awkward atmosphere anymore.

"I saw some sort of street theatre at one of the markets," Zelda said as they left the terrace. "Do you think we could find it?"

The door closed behind them, leaving Link and Sheik alone on the terrace in the cold. The setting sun coloured the sky a stunning mix of pink and purple, their view largely un-obscured now that more than a few of the towering buildings in Caldhaven had collapsed during the fires. It would have been a beautiful picture, this, had it not been for the overwhelming sense of pressure both of them were feeling.

"So..."

"So..."

Neither of them knew how to start, which was a whole new level of awkward between them. It never took effort for a conversation to start between them—an off-hand comment, a grunt, a mere look was usually enough for both of them to begin a discussion or just inane chatter, and on the rare occasions during which Sheik had no smart-arse observation to make, Link simply went for a quick snog instead.

Now they simply sat on opposite sides of the table, staring at each other, both hoping the other would find some way to get the conversational ball rolling...and hoping to the Goddesses that they wouldn't fumble it once it was passed to them.

But the ball didn't even move, and Sheik thought for certain that they sat there for at least ten to fifteen minutes before he finally _made_ his mouth move and words came out of his face.

"I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry."

They spoke at the same time. Link blushed, and Sheik bit the inside of his cheek. Why did the Hero have to look so damn cute while blushing?

"Why?" he asked.

"For...everything that happened," Link said meekly. "For what I said...what I made you do..." He looked pointedly at the bruises from the fight that coloured Sheik's face.

Sheik shook his head, hardly believing what he was hearing. "Link, I...don't be sorry...last night's stupidity was all my fault. I overreacted, and—"

"You didn't, though," Link interrupted. "You thought I hated you because you look like...h-him," he said, stumbling over the last word, struggling with even saying the Shadow's name. "And...I...I kinda did," he admitted, shame marring his features, while at the same time his shoulders sank slightly, as if a weight had been lifted from off them. The guilt of the statement had clearly weighed a lot.

Sheik appreciated the honesty, but it also confirmed his worst fear. If Link _had_ felt that way, chances were almost certain that he still did.

"I...cannot fault you for that," he said, fighting down the bile that was rising in his throat. The hangover was still playing havoc with him...though he doubted this had anything to do with it. "I realise I bear more than a passing resemblance to h-... _it_ now." He made sure to avoid calling Speil a "him". Technically, the Shadow didn't even exist anymore, he supposed. "And I know it's not easy to look at me, even now. I must remind you of every single thing that went horribly wrong whenever it got itself involved."

"Horribly wrong?" Link said, chuckling mirthlessly. "That's an interesting way to describe your own death." He realised what he was doing to the poor napkin and carefully put it on his plate, resisting the urge to tug at the loose threads and turn it into a ball of twine instead. "But...yeah, I guess you're right, just a little..."

"I'm sorry..."

"Don't be, I know you didn't...change on purpose. You fought back against...it, and you won, even if it came with a cost." Link looked right at him then, staring into his eyes. "I don't blame you at all."

Sheik blinked, slightly surprised. Even after all the lies, all the deceit Sheik had put on to avoid Link finding out about Speil and just how much a threat the Shadow still posed, Link still forgave him, just like that? It was almost too much, and he felt panic beginning to grow in his chest. How could he possibly measure up to the standard Link was imagining for him? How could he possibly repay the kindness the Hero was showing him right now? He didn't deserve this...never had...

"I should have told you about it earlier," he made himself say. "I lied—"

"Because you didn't want me to get hurt," Link said. "And because you let yourself be ruled by your own pride too much." He put his hands in his lap, probably to avoid giving away his nervousness. "And I hate that. I have _always_ hated that, Sheik, because it always ends up with _you_ getting hurt instead." He cleared his throat again. "I wish you'd stop, but...I know you, and I know it's an impossible request." He shook his head. "But I'm not exactly innocent either," he said with a shrug. "I haven't been...assertive enough, I guess. I let you take control too easily, because in some...strange and significant way, I keep comparing myself to you without meaning to, and I always end up feeling inferior, and you're always so cool, calm and collected that I automatically let you take the reins."

"Link—"

"Let me finish, please," the Hero said, his breath shuddering. Link was shaking now. "I finally realise now that I have to stop doing this...and that has changed some things..." He shuddered again, still not taking his eyes off Sheik. "And you're right...I still can't get used to seeing you like this...it's like his face keep flickering in place of yours, and I know it's not true, but...no, it's there, for me." He shook his head. "It's stupid, I know...but I promise you, Sheik, I will get over it...I just need some time." His jaw clenched. "Can...can you give me that?"

Sheik gulped, realising the importance of this moment. This was where things could either go very right, or very wrong, and it all depended on what he said next. He tried to appear thoughtful, but even the dimmest of fools could see right through his disguise. His fists clenched again, and suddenly he became all-too-aware of his missing fingers, the slight nubs where they had been amputated rubbing against the skin of his palm. Who had been at fault for that? No one...they'd both been victims of circumstances right then.

"I..." he started, and stopped. He didn't deserve the second chance Link was offering him. It would not come right away, but if all Link needed was time...then Time was what the Hero would have. "I can give you that," he said.

"And there's something I want you to promise me," the Hero said. "I never want you to drink like that again. At least...not alone."

"I promise," Sheik said, repeating what he'd sworn to Zelda.

They fell silent, both feeling immense relief. The conversation had not gone the way Sheik had expected, but they had not gone their separate ways...at least not yet.

"So...how does this work?" Sheik asked. "Are we...still friends? Or should we avoid each other completely?"

Link laughed slightly. "I don't think it's possible to avoid each other, given that we're at war," he said. "Friends, I think...yeah, that. Maybe...maybe like we were before I kissed you the first time? Friends, but only that."

"I can...live with that," Sheik said, offering him a shy smile. It was more than he deserved, that was for certain.

They stood at the same time, looking at each other in a new way. Neither was sure it would work, but it was worth a try if there was even a chance that their relationship could go back to what it was. Sheik was willing to do anything for that, and he _would_.

* * *

**Soul Remnants**

**Chapter 83**

* * *

Rial fought down the urge to yawn widely as he listened to yet another report on the state of the army, most of it consisting of numbers being thrown at him with assurances that they would all stay in the black, a phrase he was _almost_ certain meant something good. This was the most unpleasant side of this level of command he'd seen so far. He could, he realised, deal with knowing that his actions would have ramifications for all of Lumina for years to come, could deal with the level of responsibility he wielded, the amount of lives he controlled...but the paperwork and bureaucracy, which he'd been certain wouldn't even exist in a rebel army, was slowly killing him, sucking his life force dry.

To his left at the table, Princess Zelda seemed to be stifling yawns of her own, showing just as much enthusiasm for accounts as he was, her eyes blinking and slightly unfocused as her thoughts invariably travelled to more pleasant places. Rial was relieved to know that she was as bored as he was, and he briefly wondered if she had been forced to deal with this as well during the seven-year war in Hyrule. Probably not, he figured. That wasn't a civil war, after all. They'd probably received help from the civilian population wherever they went, while Rial's army had to beg villages and cities for supplies, often having to make ludicrous promises in return, such as guaranteeing that their settlements would be prioritised when the King returned to power.

The princess noticed him staring at her, and smiled gently before returning her attention to the officer giving the report.

There was a hardness to her countenance that Rial spotted every now and then, hidden beneath her kind eyes and disarming smile, a subtle reminder that this young woman, hardly more than a girl, still, had been through incredible hardship already, and had been forced to make far more difficult choices than Rial would ever have to. She'd commanded and fought in a war since she was ten, and come out of it stronger than any other ruler in the world, Rial was convinced of it. It was the same edge he'd seen on the faces of Link and Sheik, as well. The Hyrulian soldiers who were veterans of that war had it too, but not as...adamantine as that of the princess and her friends. Those three had shared something that solidified them and it separated them from the world in an unavoidable way. It became them, and those who did not go through what they did. Rial dared not guess what it was.

"General?"

He blinked, confused. The officers around the table were staring at him with varying expressions of annoyance, impatience and, in Ise's case, amusement. He cleared his throat, embarrassed that he'd been caught staring and ignoring the extremely important matter of whether someone should be paid to haul away the contents of the latrines or if it should just be buried in the ground.

"Sorry, sorry, do go on," he said, taking a sip of his wine. He only permitted himself one goblet a day these days. He could drink all he wanted once Victor was safe—and knowing that he'd have to confess his feelings to the King eventually, would probably have to.

"Like I said," the report-giver said, sounding slightly offended that he had been ignored, and continued, "the cost of hiring someone to cart away the, er, leavings, would amount to no less than..."

The voice faded away as Rial continued to look at the officer, but let his thoughts drift away. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the princess' shoulders shaking slightly as she held her laughter in, adding to his embarrassment. She was a marvel, this one, he had to admit. So competent, wise and learned beyond her years, and strong... She _would_ be a good match for Victor, he told himself. Riveth had been right. He banished that line of thought immediately, knowing it would simply depress him. It could never work, of course, he and Victor. He might as well face it now and be done with it. Or later, when he'd broken his own promise and curled up in bed with a bottle of Ise's finest...

He focused on the report again, relieved that they had, at last, moved past the issue of where to shovel the shit and gone on to what he'd really wanted to get out of this meeting: the tally.

"As of yesterday, give or take a few desertions, no more than ten, perhaps, we arrived at this number," the officer said, putting the paper in front of Rial and pushing it forward so that the general could see. "Sixteen thousand and eighty-five strong, sir."

Rial almost choked on his own spit. Sixteen thousand? That was far more than he'd hoped for! He gripped the paper with excitement, reading the more detailed breakdown on which types of fighters he had at his disposal. Archers, swordsmen, spearmen, cavalry, sappers—he made a note to ask what the hell sappers were later—and, of course, the airship. This was...they were finally strong enough!

"And that does not include my forces, am I correct?" Zelda asked, smiling at the man.

"You are correct, Your Majesty," the officer confirmed with a nod. "We felt that it would be improper to include your men in the count, since they are under your command."

"I understand," she said, nodding back gravely. "I can happily say, though, that my four thousand five hundred and fifty-seven soldiers, most of them veterans, will be at the general's disposal until the war has come to and end." She looked at Rial, giving him a grin. "I believe that puts us at twenty and a half thousand strong, does it not?"

"It does seem that way, Your Majesty," Rial agreed, his fingers almost refusing to relinquish the paper to the officer. It was difficult to breathe; his excitement was mounting with every second. He was still unsure, however, of why the princess insisted on being part of the war at this point. With sixteen thousand, he was capable of ending the war himself, and yet she was still offering to commit her forces to him. He wanted an answer to that, just so he could concentrate fully on strategy. He cleared his throat again. "Why don't we all take a small break to go over these numbers in our heads, and reconvene in...say, twenty minutes?"

The suggestion was met with approval, and soon enough the gathered men and women were shuffling out of the inn and into the fresh air outside. Rial leaned over and said quietly to the princess, "A word, Your Majesty?"

"Of course," she replied just as quietly. "And just 'Princess', please, it gets tiring to hear 'Your Majesty' five thousand times a day."

He nodded and waited until everyone had left the main hall of the inn. The innkeeper seemed to take the hint and retreated into the kitchen, leaving Rial and Zelda completely alone and with no prying eyes or eager ears to hear the conversation.

"What exactly is your stake in all this, Princess?" he asked, deciding that there was no point treading around the issue. "I understand that you came here to help your friends, and that you feel a certain...obligation to us, but...well, we have enough men on our own, now, and no one would blame you if you were to pull your men back and go home."

Zelda did not seem surprised by the question, and nodded slowly. "I believe we've had this conversation before, general, but I suppose I should be more elaborate with my reasons for being here." She took a sip of water, having refused wine. Sheik's drunken escapade from the week before had put her off alcohol permanently for a while, it seemed. "Truth be told, while I am happy to be of assistance in the task in liberating your country and saving your King, I am more interested in what plans Councillor Rehm has for Prison's Peak."

"You believe he is trying to open the prison?" Rial asked.

"I do not yet know if that is his ultimate scheme, but I believe it is very important to keep him away from it, in any case. I am woefully ignorant on what transpired here a thousand years ago other than what is commonly known, but if the Goddesses went to such lengths to imprison this Enlightened One, then it is in the world's best interest that he remains there. Which is why I would, if I may, ask for permission to go there and investigate."

"Investigate?"

She caught his look of alarm and shook her head. "I don't intend to open it, if that is what you are afraid of, general. I just want to ensure that whatever seals are there cannot be broken and, if I can, add a few of my own." She shrugged. "Perhaps we can even learn something from it."

"I suppose it's not an unreasonable request, and I'm sure the King will grant it, once he's been freed," he said carefully. Only Victor had the power to ask the Silver Guard to step aside and let someone inside the mountain.

"And that is why I am committing my forces to you, General, so he can be freed as soon as possible."

"I suppose we have a tentative agreement, then."

"Huzzah."

The conversation flowed more easily afterwards, Rial feeling reassured. The princess wouldn't tear away towards the mountains while the war was still being fought down here, then. That was a relief, and he knew already what he would order next. The troops were getting antsy and restless, and the march would take them at least a week. The officers began to return from the break, and as the final lieutenant settled into her chair, he rose from his and announced with a wide grin, "We have trudged around the subject for long enough. We have the resources, we have the numbers, and we have the willpower!" He studied their faces as he spoke, seeing hopeful looks being exchanged between them. "Tell your men to eat hearty and rest well tonight. Tell them to pack their gear to be ready at dawn—tomorrow, we march on Lumina City!"

* * *

Sheik felt like he was going insane. When Link had suggested that they should be friends, he had initially rejoiced. It was a chance for them to repair their strained relationship without risking things becoming too intense too soon. They could work and spend time together without things becoming uncomfortable because of his appearance. The only physical contact they'd had after their conversation had been handshakes and accidental touches during meals, which they had both ignored. It would be a refreshing take on their interactions together, perhaps even give them some new insights about each other, to which they'd been blinded during the time they were lovers.

That was the idea, anyway. Outwardly, Sheik was still positive to, even relishing the idea and complimenting Link on it whenever he could. Inwardly, he felt even more awkward than he did during the conversation about it. It felt...unnatural to be so close and yet so distant with someone he'd been intimate with. It was like someone had placed a glass wall between them and hung a sign with an arrow pointing at Link and the words "DO NOT APPROACH" painted on it. The less he was allowed to, the more he wanted to...be with Link.

Zelda wasn't happy about the idea either. She didn't show it to the world, but she certainly made it clear to Link and Sheik, mostly by the way she surreptitiously tried to get them alone in a room together whenever she could, usually at the end of meals. She'd tried to claim they had to sleep in the same room because of a shortage of living space, but then the innkeeper, much to her chagrin, quickly cleaned up one of the storage rooms and put in a spare bed. The shutters on the window had been removed, and lo there had been a spare room. Link had taken it with no sign of hesitation. Zelda had been positively fuming.

She had come around eventually, though, when Link cornered her one day and explained exactly why he needed the space, and she seemed to accept his reasoning. It didn't stop her from doing the aforementioned supper disappearances, but at least she didn't do anything overt.

Sheik slowly came out of his reveries as he realised Link had been talking the entire time they'd been walking through the streets of Caldhaven. It was midday, and the sun was shining, warm and comforting. Winter was finally letting go, and spring had started its work on melting all the snow and ice that coated the land. They'd decided to take a walk that morning, as a continuation of their...therapy? It was the only word he could think of to describe what they were doing. So far it had been pleasant enough, but Sheik's thoughts kept returning to the fact that he absolutely despised their separation, which caused his anger to simmer, which again forced him to commit all his willpower to fighting it down. It was a vicious cycle, but in a way it helped develop greater control of his emotions, so there was that.

Anger. Zelda had been trying to help him with that. They'd met in the evenings and discussed various topics that got a rise out of him, and then worked on various methods and tools that would bring him back down. They'd had some success with this, and Sheik had opportunities every day to practice them. Sometimes, however, he simply exploded, but at least he was able to keep himself from expressing this in a physical way, preferring the extremely verbal way instead. Some guests at the inn had been complaining, apparently.

"What do you think?"

Sheik blinked at the Hero. "Pardon?"

"Weren't you listening?" Link asked, exasperated.

"I was...distracted," Sheik admitted, eyes downcast.

Link paused, his arm halfway raised to touch Sheik's shoulder comfortingly. Some habits died hard. "By what?"

"What do you think?" Sheik asked, touching the stumps of his missing fingers, a nervous habit he'd been developing and was annoying him greatly. He wasn't supposed to _have_ nervous habits, damn it!

It didn't take the Hero long to realise what had distracted Sheik, and nodded, letting his arm drop uselessly. "I see...sorry."

 _Why are you apologising, you stupid boy?_ Sheik wondered, glad that his cowl was covering up his slight gape. "No, _I_ am sorry. Go on, what were you saying?"

"Uh, I was...I was saying that I've seen Tira in the market street almost every day this week," Link said, recovering. "I think she's looking for something specific, but can't find it. I figured that, if we see her now, we could help her? As a sort of thanks for...you know..."

They weren't able to talk about Sheik's drunken fight. It was still too uncomfortable a topic. Sheik nodded, knowing that mere thanks weren't enough to settle the debt he owed the bodyguard, even if she herself seemed to think it was. He too had noticed Tira's daily excursions to the marketplaces (or what remained of them; more than a few businesses had been burned during Iteos' attack), and was curious about what the soldier was looking for.

"That would be agreeable," he said.

Link grinned at that, and Sheik found himself melting inwardly. How could anyone resist such a smile?

Together they walked to the biggest marketplace in the city, assuming that was where Tira would begin. It was located in the biggest square in Caldhaven, as well as the surrounding streets. It was a busy day—something big was going to happen. The rebel leadership, Princess Zelda and the Patrician were having a large meeting that day, and some said that a large offensive was being planned. That meant that the soldiers were going to be leaving soon, and they were all too happy about spending their pay on trinkets to bring home after the war. There was an undeniable optimistic feeling that permeated the city, despite the events of the previous week.

Link and Sheik gazed out at the sea of people, both realising that they had a huge job ahead of them. Finding Tira in this would be far more difficult than they'd anticipated. They both exchanged a glance.

"Split up?" Link suggested, not even looking at Sheik as his eyes were drawn towards the section he wanted to search the most. Sheik could only nod, deciding to indulge the Hero.

"We will meet back here in an hour."

"And if we find Tira before that?"

"Bring her to the centre of the square," Sheik said, pointing at a monolithic standing stone in the very middle of the market. It towered above the stalls and tents that had been set up, impossible to miss. "We'll both check in every now and then."

"Sounds like a plan," Link declared. "Good luck!"

With that, the Hero shot off towards the crafting section of the market, where blacksmiths and jewellers applied and sold their trade. Sheik chuckled. Link was probably looking for new and interesting weapons or tools. He turned his head to his own section, which happened to be the produce section. He highly doubted he would find Tira in there, but they had to do this systematically if they were to eventually come across her.

It was a bust. Row after row of stored vegetables and fruit, livestock and dried meats and fish passed by as he searched, but no sign of the tall bodyguard could be seen. He began to check the side streets as well, along with the tailors and cobblers. The tailors were a bit of a stretch, he supposed, as Tira got her gear and clothes through the army, but cobblers...well, a good pair of boots were rarely acquired through the government.

It was mere coincidence that he happened upon his cousin in a women's clothing store, having an in-depth discussion with the lady behind the counter about fabric softness. Kafei didn't notice him at first, and Sheik wondered how he should announce his presence, or if he should do so at all. They had been avoiding each other since the night Sheik had been...possessed, so to speak. He saw the slightly awkward stance of his cousin, his side slightly more guarded than usual. He'd wounded Kafei that night. Not mortally, of course, but badly enough for it to hurt and put him out of commission for a while. Did Kafei hate him? Or, if not hate, then at least distrust?

He was frozen by these thoughts, and in the end it was the lady behind the counter who made the decision for him. She spotted him, gave a kind smile and said, "Just a minute, sir, and I will be right with you."

Kafei turned his head to smile apologetically to the waiting customer, and his eyes widened upon seeing Sheik.

"Don't let me interrupt," Sheik offered awkwardly, motioning towards the owner.

"We were just finished, weren't we?" Kafei said, smiling at the woman, who nodded. "I think the silk will be perfect, and cotton for the rest."

"I believe it will be perfect too, sir," she replied, writing it down on a piece of paper. "That will be...ten gold pieces, fifteen if you want it done by the morning."

"Fifteen it is," Kafei replied, fishing the money out of his pouch and placing it on the counter. "I have a feeling we'll be leaving tomorrow, so I will need it as soon as possible."

"If you want, and for five more pieces, we can have it done by tonight." The suggestion was delivered with the most innocuous tone the woman could muster, and fluttering eyelashes for extra effect. Kafei seemed to think about it for a second before dropping five more pieces on the counter. "Come back at eight, sir."

"Thank you, I will," Kafei replied, taking the receipt and walking past Sheik and out into the street. "Sorry about that," he apologised to Sheik. "Didn't think anyone would find me here."

"I should be the one apologising," Sheik said, motioning towards Kafei's injured side.

"I consider it payback for the time I nearly killed you," the other Sheikah said with a wry smirk. "Or maybe I won't hold it against you at all, seeing as you weren't in control at the time." They stared at each other in silence for a few seconds, a confused woman passing between them as she headed into the store they'd just left. "Look, I'm not angry at you," he finally said. "And I won't accept any apologies, all right? Let's just go back to how we acted before...this." He motioned towards Sheik, no doubt referring to his appearance.

"All right," Sheik said, still feeling awkward, scratching his neck. "Er...what were you doing in there?" he asked.

"Oh, just getting some new clothes for Elenwe," he replied. "She gave me her measurements and asked me to go in her stead while she...does whatever the general has asked her to do."

"The general has asked her to do something?"

"Yeah," he shrugged. "Won't tell me what it is, though. I think she wants it to be a surprise, or something."

"I see..."

"What are you doing here, though? You never struck me as the shopping type."

He offered Sheik a small grin, which he returned behind his cowl, glad that the fading bruises from the bar fight were hidden by it. Kafei probably didn't know about that night, and he'd prefer to keep it that way.

"Getting a present for your dashing Hero, perhaps?" he suggested, raising his eyebrows.

"Er, no, nothing like that," Sheik said, shaking his head. "Link and I are...taking a break, of sorts, for reasons I'd rather not tell. I'm looking for Zelda's bodyguard, actually."

"Oh? Why is that?"

"I owe her a favour and it seems she is looking for something in the markets. I figured I would offer my assistance."

"Hm, she's the towering girl who looks a little like a Gerudo, right? I think I saw her trawling the jewellers two streets over," he said, pointing in that direction. "I can show you, if you like."

"Please," Sheik said gratefully.

As they walked, Kafei kept glancing at him. He was probably trying to get used to his cousin looking like a living ghost now as well.

"Do you think the princess still doesn't want you to see me?" Kafei asked.

"I don't know," Sheik replied. "She hasn't said anything about it, but even if she doesn't...I don't care." He honestly didn't. Kafei was his only remaining blood relative that walked this earth, and nothing would stop them from seeing each other. "I'll see whenever, wherever I like. Unless you don't want me, of course," he added.

"I don't mind," Kafei said, smiling. "It's...nice to know that I'm not completely alone, after all. Family-wise, I mean."

"I can relate," Sheik said, smiling at the unintended pun. "I never thought I would see you again...or, if I did, that I would have to kill you."

"Technically, you are required to," Kafei reminded him. "Traditions demand it."

"That particular tradition can sod off," Sheik said firmly. "I'm quite certain the ones who wrote it didn't take the extinction of our people into account. Every Sheikah life is precious, even if it does not live by our ways, and I'm sure Impa would agree."

"You will find out sooner or later."

Sheik nodded, knowing he would still want the whole truth from Impa the next time he saw her. He needed to know what had happened that night so many years ago.

"Here it is," Kafei said as they reached the street corner. "I counted on my way up here, there are at least fifty jewellers along this street. If the bodyguard is looking for something pertaining to that craft, it will take her a while. Happy hunting."

"Where are you going?" Sheik asked as Kafei began to walk away.

"Lunch," he replied simply and disappeared among the crowds.

Sheik stood there for a while, wondering if the conversation had been awkward for Kafei and not for him, confused. It was almost like them almost killing each other that night meant absolutely nothing. He shook his head, deciding to analyse that later and focus on finding Tira instead. This was Link's search grid; perhaps he'd already found her.

He took his time, walking down that street and looking through windows and doors, hoping to spot either Tira or the Hero. If he happened to look closer at an item on display that he happened to appreciate the aesthetic value of, then all the better. There was some exquisite craftsmanship to be found here, he decided. A lot of it was made from silver, due to an apparently very profitable silver mine located very close to the city, but the designs were unlike anything he'd ever seen. He paused at that thought, wondering when he'd begun to like these things. He couldn't remember being this interested in them before...perhaps it was a side effect of being bound with Speil? Perhaps the Shadow liked jewellery?

He paused upon noticing a gold necklace with a pendant in the shape of a triangle. If looked at in the right way, it almost looked like one of the pieces of the Triforce. It was quite pretty... Zelda would look beautiful with it, he decided. Link too, for that matter. They had both carried pieces of the Triforce, and it would be an interesting symbol, of sorts...

"Ah, you're not the first to be enraptured with that particular item today," the owner of the store said, suddenly standing beside him. It was an impressive feat to sneak up on Sheik, and he had to fight down his instinct to lash out at the man. "You are from Hyrule as well?" he asked kindly, seemingly not noticing how close he'd come to being beaten to within an inch of his life.

"Yes, I am," Sheik replied, not really wanting to be drawn into a sales pitch. He wasn't carrying more than a few gold pieces anyway. "Has someone else from there been here today as well?" he asked.

"Quiet a few soldiers from there have been in here, looking for trinkets and beautiful things to bring back home," the man said, nodding. "Oh, and that nice young man with the green hat. He is the one who grew fond of the pyramid pendant."

 _Of course Link would enjoy this,_ Sheik thought, suddenly wishing he had the money to buy the damn thing. "Do you know where he went?"

"Ah, you know each other?" The shop keep asked.

"Er, yes, we are...friends," Sheik said hesitantly. It felt _wrong_ to say just "friends" now.

"I figured as much, you seem to be around the same age," the man said kindly. "I saw him head further down the street after apparently spotting someone he was knew"

Sheik was already on his way out the door. "Thank you, I—"

"Wait!" the owner called, running after him. "Your friend forgot his change, he was so excited to run after the person. Here, would you kindly bring this to him?"

Sheik took the change, a few pieces of silver, and felt puzzled. Link had bought something? One of the pyramids? Of course, he'd probably bought it as a gift for Zelda. The Hero knew it would fit her perfectly, after all. Or maybe Zelda had seen it herself and asked him to purchase it. He shook his head, bid his farewell to the man and left the store, continuing in the direction Link had gone.

It took him another fifteen minutes, but he reached the end of the street and spotted both Link and Tira standing leaning against the wall of a smithy, speaking to each other in a relaxed fashion. They both straightened up upon spotting him, however, and Sheik feared he had just rudely interrupted something.

"There you are," Link said, smiling. "I was just about to head to the monolith and tell you I found her. We're too late, though."

"My lord," Tira said, bowing slightly.

"No lord, please," Sheik said, wishing she'd stop doing that. "Especially not after the incident. What do you mean, we're too late?" he asked.

"She has already found what she was looking for."

Sheik noticed that she was holding something long and thin, wrapped in cloth. It sort of looked like a sword, if he were completely honest. "May I ask what it is?" he said.

"She won't tell," Link said, pouting slightly. "All I know is that she got in the smithy."

"It is a secret," Tira confessed, blushing slightly. "It is a gift for Her Majesty...as a thanks for promoting me."

"A sword?" Sheik asked.

"Not...exactly," Tira said, cocking her head to the side. "It has more than one use, I suppose you could say."

"Give it up, Sheik, I've been trying to get it out of her for the past twenty minutes," Link said, shaking his head. "I'm sure Zelda will show it to us anyway, eventually." He gave Tira a sly look. "Unless it's something for _her_ eyes only...?"

Tira scowled, but the blush deepened. "Nothing like that, I can assure you."

"Fair enough."

Sheik took Link's change out of his pocket and held it out. "Here, you left this at the jeweller."

Link was not a good enough liar to take this nonchalantly. He flushed heavily and took the money quickly, shoving it deep into his pocket. For the first time Sheik noticed that his other pocket was full of what appeared to be a bag made of fabric of some sort, the end poking out. "Thanks," Link muttered.

"Is that for Zelda too?" Sheik asked, raising an eyebrow. "Have I missed something? It's not her birthday..."

"Coincidence," Link said simply.

"I should be heading back to the inn," Tira said, probably aware of how uncomfortable the company had become with Sheik's arrival—a fact he felt slightly hurt by. "The princess only gave me leave for the duration of the meeting, which is supposedly ending in fifteen minutes. Excuse me."

They watched her leave, and Sheik cursed inwardly as he realised he'd forgotten to thank her again for saving him that night.

"You can do it next time," Link said, apparently reading his mind.

"Why didn't you include me in the gift?" Sheik asked, looking at him.

"What?"

"If you were buying the gift for Zelda, I could have helped. Or, if you wanted to give it alone, at least told me..."

"Sheik, I...that's...eugh, okay, sorry," Link spluttered. "I promise I will tell you about my gift-buying, okay?"

"It's fine, really," Sheik said. They began to shuffle back towards the inn. "Where did you get the money, anyway?"

"I've been saving up."

"How?"

"You know, doing this and that."

Sheik sighed, knowing he wouldn't get any real answers out of Link. The Hero wasn't good at subtle, but damned if he couldn't clam up when he wanted to. He changed the subject instead, and they began to theorize on what Rial would do next.

Anything could happen, after all.

* * *

**Soul Remnants**

**Chapter 84**

* * *

Rial stamped his feet nervously in front of the door. It was late, and the warmth of the sun had quickly faded once it set. His teeth chattered slightly as he tried to man himself up to knock on the weathered wood in front of him. He'd been putting off this conversation for far too long, he knew, and by now his attempt at having it would most likely be met with contempt or, at best, cold indifference.

Why had he put it off for so long? Was he afraid? Possibly. He had never been particularly skilled at these things, and this time it was even worse because it had hit so close to home. The first day, he could easily be forgiven. He had been slightly concussed, after all. He was still feeling the effects of that, but not insofar as he could claim it had put him under.

Clenching his jaw, he raised his hand and knocked. If things were going to end badly, he wanted it out of the way as quickly as possible. The knock was met with silence. Behind him, he heard voices and footsteps and wagon wheels trundling through the streets. The army was preparing to move. They would begin their long-awaited march on the capital in seven hours.

He knocked again wondering if he was too late, that he had waited too long. Perhaps they had moved on already? The theory was not supported by the soft glow of light coming from the windows of the building, but still…

He was relieved when he heard the bolts being undone on the other side and straightened up as the knob turned, the door opening a crack inward.

"General?"

Rial managed to bite down on the words that had been forming in his mouth, realising it was the wrong person who had answered the door. He shook his head, and smiled down at the young boy.

"Good evening, I was wondering if it would be possible to speak to Ard for a moment?" he said, studying Lor up and down. The boy's face was flushed, and his shirt seemed soaked through with sweat. "Are you all right?" Rial asked, suddenly worried.

"Hm?" Lor asked, looking confused until he realised why the general was staring at him. "Oh, we're training. Magic takes a lot out of me. I'll tell Ard you want to speak with him, come in."

Rial stood awkwardly in the entrance, watching as Lor padded into a back room of sorts. He heard muffled voices. A small argument seemed to break out, and he recognised Ard's gruff, annoyed tone. Lor's was slightly higher pitched, and he was clearly giving Ard a piece of his mind. Rial half-expected things to end badly—he had never known Ard to allow anyone to boss him around like that, apart from Riveth—but was pleasantly surprised when the young warlock appeared in the doorway and walked into the room, nodding in greeting.

"You wished to speak with me?" he asked, voice completely neutral and his face a stone mask. Things were worse than Rial had feared.

"Er, yes," he said, motioning towards the table and chairs in the middle of the room. "Maybe we ought to sit down…"

"Maybe," Ard said, though he remained standing. Rial sighed and sat in one of the chairs, facing the boy in what he hoped was a calm and friendly way.

"I…we…" Rial began, biting his tongue as he realised he had clearly not given the conversation enough thought, even though it had been on his mind all day. "We…didn't really talk, did we, when…she died." He wanted to kick himself for that opening statement.

Even though Ard had clearly been preparing himself for the subject, his mask slipped for a fraction of a second. One corner of his lips twitched slightly, and his eyelids narrowed ever so little.

"No," the warlock said slowly. "I suppose we did not."

"See, that's not the way things were supposed to…happen," Rial said, hopelessly lost and awkward. "I should have…come to you right away."

"You were injured," Ard said. One could almost mistake his tone for reassuring. To Rial, however, it sounded accusing.

"Just the first day or so," Rial said. "I've been up and about the entire week."

"You had other things to do." The disinterested shrug was the worst part.

"I always have other things to do," Rial pointed out. "I still shouldn't have neglected you."

"You don't have to—"Ard began, but Rial interrupted him.

"I do. Riveth…she loved you like her own. You and your brother were the children she never had, and I think you loved her just as much back."

Ard didn't comment on that, but he didn't need to. Rial could see it in his eyes, even if he tried to hide it. The hand that ran through his silver tresses was also a dead giveaway.

"And then I came along," Rial continued. "And I think…I think she might have forgotten about you, just a little bit… Not just because of the war, but because of me, because we are…were family." He clenched his fist, wondering how the hell he was going to get through this, or even if he had a point he was trying to get to in the first place. He certainly hoped so. "And you felt it, didn't you?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

The tone was far less certain than Ard had probably wanted it to be.

"I have a feeling you do, and…well, I don't even know how to say what I want to say, so I'll just…get on with it, shall I?" Rial wanted to bite off his tongue for being uncooperative.

"That would be best."

"My point is, is…you were family, you three. I'm an interloper. I had no intention of coming between you, and yet…you have lost both your brother and her, because of this war…and it was all my fault. I dragged her, and therefore you, into this. There is nothing I can say to make up for it, or to make you forgive me, I am fully aware of that." He looked Ard in the eyes. "I know she thought about you, when she gave her life to save us all, I know she did…and I hope you know it too. I…care about you as well, and I want you to know that I fully intend to take care of you, once all this is over. It would be presumptuous of me to say you should consider me a brother…but I hope you will consider me a friend, even if I have been a lousy one of late."

Ard's mask was mostly gone now, its owner unsure of how to react to this.

"We…were planning to leave, after the war," he finally said.

"We?" Rial asked, confused.

"Lor, and I," the stoic boy elaborated. "We…our magic…"

Rial nodded slowly. Of course, even if the warlocks had played a large part in the rebels' success so far, their kind would not suddenly be accepted in Lumina overnight. Some of the more vocal opponents of magic might even try to shift blame onto them, declare that it was their fault the war started in the first place. Lumina had never been much of a home to Ard in the first place, or to Lor. What incentive would there be for them to stay, once the war was over? Rial thought about it, and quickly reached the conclusion that there was none. Riveth was the only thing that could have done so, and she was gone…

"I…understand, I guess," Rial said, feeling even more awkward now. "And I don't blame you at all for wanting to do so."

"We will fight," Ard said, as if to reassure him. "The people responsible…they will die for what they have done."

"Are you sure?" Rial asked. "The way to the border is open, I can arrange an escort—"

"We will fight," Ard repeated firmly.

"I…er…thank you," Rial said lamely. They fell silent, and he realised that, in a way, he had lost the tentative connection he'd had with the boy when Riveth was still alive. They had gotten along well enough, but now… Still, Ard showed loyalty to Riveth's cause, which was the same as Rial's. He was damn well going to show that he was serious about being a friend! "Let me know if there is anything you need. Anything."

Ard nodded at that.

And that was it. The conversation had gone right to hell, and Rial could only feel defeat as he stood up and prepared to leave.

I'm sorry, aunt, he thought. I've lost him.

Just as he was about to close the door behind him, however, Ard said so softly that no one else could have heard him, "Thank you."

It put a small smile on his lips, and he slept a little better than he expected that night.

* * *

"What, exactly, is the issue?" Rehm asked, watching the workers as they scrambled back and forth in front of the rock walls that barred his way into the mines of Prison's Peak.

"Like the Countess reported," the officer in charge of the efforts to dig said carefully, "the stone seems to be imbued with magic. It actively resists any attempts at cracking it with pickaxes and other tools. The collapsed entrances will take months to clear out—"

"So I have been told a dozen times since arriving here, lieutenant," Rehm interrupted. "I have yet to hear of a possible solution."

"Councillor, I…do not believe there is a solution," the lieutenant said carefully. "The entire mountain has been sealed up, if the legends are to believe."

"And? Do you?"

"Er…no, sir, but I do believe there is something that is trying to keep us out. Perhaps the entire mountain has been hardened by magical energies, or…"

"That is not how magic works, lieutenant," Rehm said, sniffing. "It does not have sentience, therefore it cannot consciously do anything on its own." He walked up to the sheer wall in front of him and reached out to touch it lightly. It was as his entire body began to hum, and he quickly removed it. "Though you are definitely right about the rock itself being saturated with the stuff."

"So…what do we do, councillor?"

Rehm eyed the man carefully. Already they were losing faith, his men. It was to be expected, of course, Rehm told himself. Money is certainly the strongest motivator in the world, but it can only do so much in the face of such strong resistance. He had a feeling that his army of his army of hired blades would surrender the minute it became clear just who was winning the war. So far, he had neglected to mention that he had abandoned the capital, and it seemed it was in his best interests to continue doing so. They would break so quickly…just like they had abandoned their oaths the second a heavy pouch had exchanged hands. How Rehm loathed such spineless traitors…alas, they were the only ones he had left. That didn't mean he had to trust a single one of them, however.

He ignored the question the lieutenant had asked and watched as a team of diggers launched an assault upon the rock again, their tools clattering loudly against the unyielding mountainside. The tools broke, their blades dulled…but small chips of rock were knocked loose.

"Not as unyielding as you thought," Rehm said, pointing the team out to the man. "They seem to be making some progress."

"They are the strongest men we have, and their tools the finest," the lieutenant said. "But even like that…it will take far too much time to dig."

"The rock we need to get through isn't that thick," Rehm said, looking at the ancient plans of the Winter Palace and accompanying mines. "Less than ten feet."

"But it is still like digging through diamond."

"You just need something even stronger." Rehm looked around the mine entrance. It was hidden by the main citadel of the Winter Palace, only accessible through a hidden door at the back of the throne room. Another precaution made by those who built this place. His eyes roamed the back of the citadel and up to one of the towers where he was having cannons mounted, just in case that infernal airship showed up early. Perhaps… "Tell me, how much gunpowder do you have up here?" he asked.

"A few tons, why?" the lieutenant said, confused.

"I have an idea."

* * *

Victor paused as a tremor passed through his chambers with a muffled thump, his hand resting on the spine of one of the numerous books on the shelf. He was searching for secret passages or rooms—anything that could help with his current situation. He had been sure his father or one of his numerous ancestors had been paranoid enough to have something like that built at some point or another, but so far he had yet to find it. Now he was simply pulling on every single one of the books to see if any of them was connected to a hidden mechanism or something. Unfortunately, all the books seemed real. At any other time, Victor would have been happy to be surrounded by so many books, but right now he needed some sort of miracle. Direly. The sharpened bone in his pocket would only accomplish so much if he didn't have a larger plan on hand.

Dust flitted from the ceiling and landed on the shoulder of his uniform jacket as another, stronger tremor passed through the entirety of the palace. He had found one of his father's old uniforms in a wardrobe and, after a moment's hesitation, put it on. It felt wrong to wear, but they were the only clothes he had left.

He waited, and sure enough a third tremor shook more dust loose from the ceiling. Whatever was happening out there, it could not be good. He could only hope that the mountain was proving more difficult to work with than Rehm had planned for. That thought alone put a small grin on Victor's face. Anything that caused trouble for Rehm was a good thing.

He searched his chambers for another hour before giving up, accepting that none of his predecessors had had the forethought to put in a secret escape passage or some such for emergencies. It made sense, though, he supposed. The Winter Palace was the last line of defence, in a way, and any King who found himself backed into this particular corner would have been ashamed to survive by running away.

There was a knock on the door, and he braced himself before opening it, just in case it was the horrible face of Rehm that was on the other side. It wasn't, luckily, though the smiling face of Countess Marlotta wasn't much of an improvement.

"Your Majesty," she said, curtsying.

"What do you want?" Victor asked sourly, noting that there were two guards outside his door. Only two...

"That is hardly a tone fitting for a King," Marlotta said, tutting slightly. "What would your father say if he had heard you now?"

"He'd be calling me an idiot for ever trusting you," he said bluntly. He had no intention of bantering politely with the horrible woman standing in front of him right now. It was like she was trying to _ignore_ the fact that she had been part of all this. That she had ordered the execution of every single member of the Silver Guard was just the tip of iceberg. "Again, what. Do. You. Want?"

"May I enter?" she said, not waiting for an answer as she barged her way into his chambers. She made a small round trip of the chambers, theatrically warming her hands at the fireplace before making herself comfortable in one of the chairs facing it. "Ah, Robar certainly knew how to make himself comfortable...before the end, that is," she said, studying him. "You look so much like him in his younger days, do you know that?"

"If you are simply here to gloat, I'd appreciate it if you could do it without making noises with your mouth," Victor said, muttering the last part. It had sounded better in his head.

"So rude," Marlotta said, shaking her head sadly. "Come, have a seat."

"I prefer to stand, thank you."

"Don't be a stubborn fool, Victor," Marlotta said, her voice softening. "I never agreed to locking you up like this, even if it was the only way to keep an eye on you." She shook her head. "Really, this whole war shouldn't have happened."

"I would be a tad more inclined to believe you if it weren't for what you did to the Silver Guard."

"Ah, that..." She sighed. "True, I led the attack here...and I may have gotten overzealous, but it was Rehm who ordered the execution, not I."

That did sound true to Victor's ears, but still... "You followed that order, that makes you just as culpable."

"Very true."

Victor crossed his arms. "For the last time, what do you want?"

"I just...want to discuss something with you."

"What?"

"What will happen after our plan succeeds," she said, the flickering shadows falling on her face in a sinister way. Another tremor passed through the Palace. "Do you hear that?" she asked. "That is the sound of Rehm forcing his way through the barricades put up by the Goddesses. It is only a matter of time before we break through the walls, and then..."

"What exactly are you planning, here?" Victor asked. "This all...it seems so convoluted and unnecessarily violent just to get to the riches of the mines."

"Riches?" she said, smiling wryly. "Do you truly believe we are here for the mines?"

Victor hesitated. "Aren't you? Surely you do not believe—"

"Did you not just hear me mention the Goddesses?" she interrupted. "Victor, we are here for the Enlightened One. We are going to wake him up."

"But why?!" As long as the idea had simply been abstract in his head, Victor could easily ignore it, but having one of the conspirators say it outright...it made it far too real. "Why would you possibly want to? The last time he was active, Lumina was nearly destroyed!"

"By the Goddesses," she pointed out. "He did not raise a finger against Lumina. It was the sisters who took their anger out on the kingdom."

"So what? It was still a disaster!"

"He will be stronger this time, he won't be defeated." She stood up and paced in front of the fire. "Imagine it, Your Majesty, what Lumina could become with someone like the Enlightened One to lead us. No one would be able to stand against us. We can take our rightful place as rulers of the world!"

Victor wanted to knock his head against the wall. Could the woman not hear herself? How insane and not to mention ridiculous it sounded? He had always known Marlotta to be slightly unhinged, but Rehm must have pumped her head so full of stupid ideas that only the craziest could be said? Surely this was not Rehm's ultimate goal? It sounded so...dumb, to Victor. Too simple. And it did not fit how hard Rehm had apparently worked on this. Why would he work so hard to be ruled by someone like the Enlightened One when Rehm himself, even before the war, was the second-most-powerful man in Lumina? Hell, these past few months he _had_ been the most powerful man in Lumina. And how old was the councillor to begin with? Even if releasing the Enlightened One and becoming his servant were his ultimate goal, how long would Rehm be able to enjoy it? Surely not more than a few more years? What was the point of all this if Rehm's idea of a dream life was going to end so soon?

No, that's not it, Victor told himself. It's something else, but he has not told Marlotta. I wonder why...

"You're wasting your time, trying to convert me," he told the countess, who had gone quiet as she waited for his reaction to her plans. "I have already listened to you and Rehm once, and all it got me was a murdered father and a stolen kingdom. The last thing I want is to unleash an insane warlock upon the world. Please leave."

"You are making a mistake, Your Majesty, but I will respect your choice," she said, obviously disappointed. "And our door will always be open. We welcome common sense."

"Even though you don't have it," he said as the door closed, leaving him alone again. He fingered the bone. The time for action was quickly approaching. And there were only two guards...

* * *

**Soul Remnants**

**Chapter 85**

* * *

No grand ceremony was held as the army assembled in the fields outside Caldhaven and began the long march towards the capital. The inhabitants of the city watched as the columns weaved their way through the trees and disappeared in the distance, wondering if they were marching to victory or their doom. Either way, the atmosphere was tense. They knew the war was ending, and even though it had only lasted for seven months, they were starting to feel the weight of it all, especially those who had been in Riveth's army.

Sheik was feeling it too. Seven months ago, he had been arrested and thrown in jail for a crime committed by his cousin, escaped, lost contact with Link and gotten involved with a loyalist rebellion. Many things had happened since then, many of them good, many of them bad. He should have been relieved, now that they were finally on their way to what would hopefully be the final battle.

Instead, he felt nervous. There was an uncomfortable weight in the pit of his stomach that kept getting heavier and heavier as time went by, and the stirrings of anger that he was still learning to control kept him on his toes constantly. It didn't help that Link kept turning up in his view, as if he didn't know how much it made Sheik want to throw him on the ground and ravish him.

...He blushed at that thought and tried to focus on the people riding in front of him. Maladict and Shun had been left in Caldhaven for their safety, and he had been given a different horse for this journey. Kaiza circled high above them, acting as Sheik's own personal scout. Rial and Zelda rode at the front of the column, both looking serious and utterly in control of themselves. Sheik found himself glad he wasn't in a position of command like that—the stress the two of them must be feeling right then would be tremendous.

He shook his head, focusing on Zelda's back as well as casting cautious glances around them. Even though he wasn't _her_ Sheikah anymore, he still found a compulsion to ensure her safety whenever they were together. Old habits die hard, he supposed. Tira was riding next to her, doing the same thing as Sheik, though far less practiced. She had been a normal soldier before becoming Zelda's bodyguard—she had not yet learned what to look for.

She still hadn't given the princess her gift, he noted, and wondered when said gift would be presented. He was also curious as to what it was. It was obviously some sort of tool, but what kind?

Zelda turned her head to look at him, and gave him a smile. He nodded back at her, knowing she couldn't see his responding smile behind his cowl. He'd chosen an outfit as close to his Sheikah uniform as possible for the campaign, wanting something that would be non-restrictive to fight in. The swords Kafei had had made for him hung at his sides, ready to be drawn at any moment. The scouts had reported that no enemy forces lay in waiting between them and Lumina City and that no trouble should be expected, but that was no reason to lower one's guard at such a critical stage.

High in the skies above them, _The Chimera_ was drifting lazily through the air. Repairs had been carried out by Jedistern and his men in record-time, and it was once more prepared for war. If its crew spotted enemies that the scouts had somehow missed, it would fire a warning shot to alert everyone on the ground. In theory, they were as safe as they could possibly be for the moment.

"Nervous?"

Sheik looked to his left and nodded to Link.

"A little," he admitted. "Irrational, of course, given the security measures we have, but still..."

"Never hurts to be vigilant, huh?" Link said, smiling. "That is so like you."

"Some things will always be the same, I guess," Sheik said, shaking his head. "While others won't."

Link sighed and fiddled with the hem of his travelling cloak. Underneath it, he was wearing a version of the same outfit he'd worn when he and Sheik had first met in Hyrule. A green tunic and red belt, and light-grey trousers (he'd seen reason and chosen something more fitting for the season than tights) and brown boots. He'd even managed to find another cap, which Sheik had immediately wanted to burn. The cloak was a last-minute addition practically forced upon him (and Sheik, as well) by Zelda, who accepted no protests, claiming that she refused to have them freeze to death after she came all this way to rescue them. His sword and shield rested on his back, as usual. Thick gloves kept his fingers warm, though he had shed them for the moment.

"I don't like this either, you know," the Hero said, looking at Sheik.

"What do you mean?" Sheik asked, raising an eyebrow.

"This...not together thing," Link elaborated. "I don't like it any more than you do."

"What makes you think I don't like it?" Sheik asked, trying to sound nonchalant. He wasn't about to reveal how badly he wanted it to end.

"Oh, please," Link said, rolling his eyes. "I know you. I can tell when you're not happy about something, and you're definitely happy about this."

Knowing Link was right, Sheik conceded with a short nod. "What I think about it doesn't matter. This is supposed to be good for us."

"It is," Link said. "It _is_ good for us. I mean...I can...it's getting easier to look at..." He trailed off, looking helpless.

"Me?" Sheik finished for him. "It's getting easier to look at me and not see _him_ , right?"

"Not _him_ ," Link protested. " _It_."

"Fine, it."

"And yes, that is what I mean. It's stupid, I know, but—"

"It's not stupid, and I understand," Sheik interrupted. "Let us leave it at that and move on."

Link looked like he wanted to protest, but eventually nodded and let the topic die a slow, awkward and silent death. Clearing his throat, the Hero looked around, clearly searching for something else to talk about, which only made Sheik feel more awkward than he already was. This was not how he had wanted things to go. It would have been better if Link had just stayed quiet, or if Sheik had just not responded. He suppressed a groan as Link's eyes fell on Tira and Zelda, riding side by side in a clear breach of protocol. Bodyguards were to ride slightly behind, not right next to the one they protected.

"How far do you think they've gone?"

The question, or perhaps the insight, surprised Sheik. He hadn't suspected that Link would have caught on to the relationship that was growing between the princess and her protector.

"You noticed that, did you?" he asked, casting a surreptitious glance towards the two to make sure they couldn't hear that Link and Sheik were practically gossiping about them. "Not very far, I think," he continued. "Probably just a few kisses, here and there. Innocent and all that." He frowned when Link began to chuckle and shake his head, as if he thought Sheik hopeless. "What is so funny?" he asked.

"Nothing, really," Link said, sniggering. "Just that you are _really_ bad at estimating this stuff."

Sheik narrowed his eyes. "By all means, then, oh great and powerful Seer of relationships, do tell how far they have gone." He felt slightly nauseated, discussing his adopted sister's sex life like this, but it was better than discussing his and Link's relationship, that was for damn sure. _Anything to get my mind off that,_ he thought.

"Bed activities," Link said simply. "No details."

"How could you possibly know?" Sheik demanded.

"Well, er..."

"Out with it, Seer."

"I kinda...walked in on them in the middle of...said activities."

At least the Hero had the decency to grow red in the face at saying such things. Sheik felt his face go a bit red himself, though he was not sure why. It definitely did not have anything to do with the mental image of Zelda and Tira engaging in certain acts that had momentarily flashed before his mind's eye. It was a pity some things could not be bleached. He cleared his throat and looked up at Kaiza, willing the blood in his cheeks away, even if no one could see them.

"So...uh...do you think there will be battle?"

Link made a heroic attempt at salvaging the terrible conversation they were having, and Sheik threw himself into it with all the enthusiasm he could muster. This was the last time either of them mentioned Zelda or Tira in the same sentence.

* * *

The camp was lively that night. The tension of waiting for orders had been released for the soldiers, and they were joking and eagerly discussing how glorious their victory over the traitors would be once they reached the capital. Some had even broken out the ale and were engaging in rather premature celebrations, though under the strict supervision of their commanding officers. It was no use to have a hangover on a march like this.

Rial welcomed the cheery atmosphere. He knew the tension would be back very soon, and with a vengeance. Already he could imagine how silent and subdued the camp would be the night before they reached the gates. It was already giving him a headache.

A peal of laughter in front of him brought him out of his thoughts and made him look across the fire. Princess Zelda and her companions were having a hushed conversation amongst themselves, and it seemed to be bringing them a great amount of mirth...except for Sheik, it seemed. The Sheikah seemed to be sulking, his arms crossed and gaze fixed firmly on the campfire, even as Link kept punching him lightly in the shoulder. The joke had been on his expense, then, it seemed.

"Is something the matter, general?"

Ise sat beside him, engrossed in a book, though she had now noticed his distinct silence among the otherwise chattering company. She was giving him a look of concern, which Rial responded to with a slight shake of his head.

"Nothing at all, thank you," he replied. He still felt awkward around the woman, even though she had backed off after the unfortunate kiss in her study. It was not an easy memory to erase, however, and no matter how hard he tried to push it to the back of his mind, it still sprang up whenever the woman's fiery hair came into view. Why had he even brought her along? Right, he needed her to have some legitimacy for when he negotiated for the city's surrender – that was it.

"You are rather quiet for a man who should be feeling triumphant," she noted, returning her eyes to the written words. She was still paying attention to him, however.

"We haven't won yet," he said simply. "I will celebrate once the King is safe and Rehm is behind bars...or better yet, his blood stains the ground."

"The latter will be unfortunate if it happens before a trial is held," she replied. "We want him alive if we want this rebellion to have any sort of credibility. Otherwise, the people of Lumina will simply think this is your attempt at a coup."

"There has already been a coup," he protested. "They were just too stupid to notice."

"It took me an embarrassingly long time to realise what was happening, true," she agreed. "But you cannot blame the people for being unable to see what was happening. Rehm must have been planning this for years—everything happened _just_ the way he wanted them to. It must have taken him the better part of a decade to completely manoeuvre everything into the necessary positions, siphoning funds, releasing dangerous prisoners, hiring mercenaries and integrating them in the Royal Army... It's almost scary how intelligent the man is."

"Not that intelligent," Rial said sourly. "He clearly didn't anticipate Riveth to declare war."

"If you hadn't escaped the castle that night, she never would have. She would have died at Æsir with all her men when Rehm sent the airship there." She closed her book and leaned back, staring up at the stars. "I wonder...could anyone have acted before it was too late, had you been killed with the rest of the Royal Guard that night? Had King Robar not been murdered? Or would life continue as usual?"

"I don't enjoy speculating in what ifs." Rial took a sip of his flask, which contained nothing but water. No alcohol until the war was over was the goal he'd made himself earlier that day. The one goblet a day thing had been bothering him, for some strange reason. "I like to work with the facts—what has happened and how to react to it."

"Then what do you call tactics and strategies, if not speculating?"

Godsdamned politicians, he thought. Always trying to one-up you when it comes to semantics. He shook his head and made a noncommittal sound. "I call it planning ahead, not speculating. Excuse me." He stood and brushed snow from his clothes, gaze wandering around his fire. There were the highest-ranking officers and nobles, the princess' party (including that mercenary commander, Riner, who had been enjoying a bit more respect since he had played a large part in saving Caldhaven), Ise and...Ard and Lor, strangely enough. He'd half-expected them to be staying away from everyone, the two seemingly wrapped up in their own, magical world (literally _and_ figuratively), but they had showed up earlier that night, and Rial wasn't about to send them away.

He announced that he was going to take a walk around camp and speak with the men, show them that he was still common as muck, just like them, and not some jumped-up noble. In reality, he just wanted to be alone for a bit. As he passed the two warlocks, he touched Ard's shoulder lightly, as a show of support. He had no idea if the boy appreciated it or not, but he felt like it should be done anyway.

It made sense, really, for the two to be drawn to the general's campfire at the moment. There were still massive anti-magic sentiments going through the parts of the army that had not been saved by Ard and Erd's magic back in the early days of the war. Everyone knew not to harass either Ard or Lor, but some people just allowed blind hate to overrule any logical thinking. At Rial's fire, however, they were safe. If not because of him, or any of the officers who'd been with Riveth, then at least because of the princess and her friends.

Hyrule would certainly be a good place for Ard and Lor to go, if they still wished to leave once the war was over. As far as Rial knew, magic was accepted, even encouraged there. Hell, the princess herself apparently dabbled in it. Maybe she could be persuaded to take them with her once they went back to Hyrule...

He was then accosted by a group of slightly drunken soldiers, who all wanted to shake his hand and generally make a nuisance of themselves. Rial bore with it and exchanged the necessary words, boastful claims of spoils in future battle, etcetera, etcetera. He managed to persuade them to go back to their fires and tents and maybe have an early night, and as he watched them go he realised he was standing outside the sick tent. He went inside, noting that the place was practically deserted.

It made sense. The wounded had been left in Caldhaven, and at the moment the only people requiring treatment were those who had been hurt during the march that day. Technically, that meant that the medics were mostly busy lancing blisters and cooling sprained ankles. The only occupant in the tent at the moment was someone Rial knew very well.

"Angen," he greeted the enormous innkeeper-turned-medic-slash-emergency-surgeon.

Angen turned around, and Rial was nearly shocked to see how weary and exhausted the man looked. He was pale, and there were huge bags under his eyes and a general sluggishness to his movements. He nodded, putting down a piece of medical apparatus Rial had no desire to know what was for. "Rial, good to see you."

"You look like shit."

The statement was met with a rumbling chuckle. "Thanks, I've been working on the look ever since Riveth...er..."

Rial nodded. Nothing needed to be said. He was ashamed—he'd forgotten that his aunt and Angen had been lovers at one point. Her death was affecting him quite heavily.

"Want a drink?" the medic offered, holding a glass bottle filled with a clear liquid. Medical alcohol, meant to clean wounds. "Tastes like I look, but it gets the job done."

"No, thank you," Rial declined. "I'm not drinking until the job is done."

"Smart," Angen said, pointing at his temple. "Want to stay clear up here for when it counts, eh?"

"Maybe you should do the same?" Rial suggested. "Can't imagine a drunk medic is of much use to anyone..."

"It helps me sleep," Angen said, shaking his head. "And I don't get drunk on it. Worst hangover you'll ever have, trust me."

"I will do that and decline once more, then," Rial said, looking around the spacious tent. "Where is Agneta?" he asked, noticing the distinct lack of the imposing physician and her terrifying sword.

"Somewhere in the camp, I imagine," Angen said with a shrug. "Said she couldn't stand my moping anymore. Probably scaring some poor bastard to abstain from drinking for the rest of his life." He took a mug and poured himself a generous amount of the alcohol, downed it in one gulp and filled the cup again, repeating the process three times before putting the bottle away. "That'll knock me out soon enough."

"Maybe you should stay that way for a little while," Rial said. Angen gave him a confused look. "We won't have any major wounded until we reach the capital," he elaborated. "Take that time to rest and eat properly."

"I'm fine—"

"I'll tell Ard to make sure you do if you refuse," he threatened. "And you know what he's capable of when angry."

Angen sighed and nodded in defeat. "Fine, I guess...you still owe me for the inn, though."

"I doubt I'll have the funds for that until after the war, and I'll need a healthy medic for it to end." Rial shook his head and turned around, heading for the exit. "Angen," he said. The medic turned back to him. "I miss her too."

"No one could replace her."

"No one."

With that agreement, and a feeling that he had somehow lost a friend, Rial left the tent and continued to wander among the rows of tents and fires, wondering what kind of trouble he could distract himself with.

* * *

Link cleared his throat for the fifth time that minute, and Sheik was _this_ close to throttle him as the Hero seemed to insist on doing it into his ear. "What is it?" he hissed.

Link only raised his eyebrows in a silent gesture and jerked his head towards the two warlocks sitting close by them. Ard hadn't cast a single glance towards them that night, and Sheik knew exactly why.

"You owe him an apology," Link said quietly.

Sheik nodded in silence.

"You said horrible things to him."

Another nod.

"You need to apologise. Right now."

"Now?" Sheik asked, looking at the Hero. "Here?"

"No time like the present, right? Isn't that what you say?"

"Can't remember having said that," Sheik said, shaking his head.

The corners of Link's mouth turned downwards, and suddenly he was gripping Sheik's arm very hard and standing up, pulling the Sheikah to his feet as well. He then marched them both over to where Ard and Lor were sitting, clearing his throat loudly as they went. This drew the attention of everyone around the fire, and Sheik suddenly felt very vulnerable. Zelda was watching with great interest. She had given him such a tongue-lashing once she had learned the things Sheik had said—even though he hadn't been completely in control of his rage right then. They were still _his_ words, she had said.

"Sheik has something to say to you, Ard," Link announced, after which he pushed his former lover forward.

"Er...may I speak with you in private?" Sheik asked, trying to recover from the sudden manhandling he'd received from Link. _It wasn't even the kind of manhandling I like,_ a treacherous part of his psyche added. He squashed it immediately.

Ard glared at him, but nodded and stood up. Or, he attempted to stand up, but Lor's hand on his shoulder kept him firmly on the ground. He redirected the glare at the other warlock, but Lor was completely unfazed.

"Anything you have to say to him, you can say here," Lor said, looking up at Sheik with a completely neutral mask on his face, though his voice held a definite edge. A warning. When Ard gave him a questioning glance, Lor only shrugged. "Not everything has to remain a secret."

Sheik cursed the assassin-turned-warlock to the high heavens, but found himself agreeing. "I...I wish to apologise. For the things I said that night. You helped me, and all I offered in return were scathing and untrue words meant to hurt. I was angry, though that is no excuse for my behaviour. Please, forgive me."

All conversation around the fire had fallen silent at the sudden display, and rapt attention was paid to the theatre happening in their midst. Sheik's attention, however, was completely on the silver-blonde that was staring up at him, his face blank. The silence lasted for so long that Sheik began to feel uncomfortable. He understood that his apology needed to be public to mean anything to Ard (even if the warlock himself didn't know that), but if his apology was rejected...the shame would be too great.

Ard stood, slowly and deliberately, until he was face to face with Sheik (or cowl to cowl, as it were, since neither of the two boys had elected to remove their face-concealing cloths completely). His eyes searched Sheik's, and the intensity was shocking, even now. They stood like that for at least a minute, Sheik letting Ard search what felt like his very soul for any hint of deception. Sheik might have been caught by surprise by Link, but he had been preparing himself for this apology...he just hadn't expected it right _now_. Nevertheless, it was genuine, and Ard would not find a single sign that he was anything less than truthful.

Eventually, the warlock nodded once, said, "I forgive you," and sat back down.

The moment lasted for another few seconds, and then most of the audience realised it was over and went back to their own conversations.

Sheik didn't know what to do. He hadn't expected things to go like this. Not this...easy. He opened his mouth to ask if that was it, but Link was suddenly pulling him away from the fire and into their tent. Before he could ask what was happening, the Hero's arms were around him, and Link was burying his face in the crook of Sheik's neck.

"Link? What are you doing?" Sheik asked carefully, fighting his instinct to mirror Link's actions. If he started, he had no idea if he would be able to stop, and that would negate any sort of progress they had made, even if it had only been a short week. The Hero mumbled something against his neck, which sent shivers down his spine. "What?"

"I'm so relieved," Link said, his warm breath ghosting over Sheik's skin.

"Why?" Sheik asked, lowering his voice to match Link's whispers.

" _It_ would never apologise like that," Link explained, pulling back to look into Sheik's eyes. Azure met ruby, and the moment seemed to stop everything around them, a small pocket in time. Their moment, and theirs only. Link leaned forward, resting his forehead against Sheik's. "I miss you so damn much..." Sheik didn't resist as Link pulled down his cowl and let his fingers trail his features, practically leaning into the touch. It took a monumental effort to stop himself from just kissing him right then and there.

"I miss you too," he whispered back.

Their lips were just an inch apart, and both of them were growing warm at the close proximity. Link's eyes grew slightly darker, and he seemed to be having an internal dialogue with himself. One side won, and the Hero sighed, breaking the physical contact with his lov—friend, but not before planting a chase kiss on Sheik's forehead.

"Just a little more time," Link said, though whether it was for his own sake or Sheik's, neither of them knew.

* * *

**Soul Remnants**

**Chapter 86**

* * *

_Fire and smoke. Crippling pain as flesh chars and turns to dust, blowing in the wind. The earth cracking and opening, swallowing entire cities and mountains, people screaming as they fall into the abyss, burning in the world's inner furnace. Waves, tall like towers, rushing across the seas and crashing onto the shores, covering the land, drowning everything and leaving it in darkness. Lightning across the sky, purple and red, the sun expanding and imploding, cutting off all light to the world._

_A country surrounded by high peaks, the very centre of the destruction that cuts a swathe across the globe. A tear in reality, a door to another realm._

_A young man, with golden eyes and an insane grin, laughing, applauding his own work as a shadow watches impassively, hesitantly...sadly._

_"And now...it ends."_

Zelda gasped and sat up, breathing heavily. She shivered, not from the cold but from the dream...or nightmare. She had felt everything the people of the world had felt as their entire existence went up in flames, was swallowed up by the earth or drowned by the sea. The plunging feeling of knowing that the world was ending still clenched her chest.

"Princess...?"

She tried to calm herself and looked at Tira beside her, completely wrapped up in multiple layers of clothes and linen. The winter did not agree with her, it seemed. "It's all right," she said quietly. "Just a bad dream."

Tira nodded, but her tired eyes still peered up at her princess, searching for anything out of the ordinary. "What about?" she murmured, sleep slurring her words.

Zelda hesitated. She hadn't told Tira about the prophetic dreams she sometimes received—the dreams that had enabled her to predict Link's coming and his victory as the Hero of Time. She had seen her kingdom burning before Ganondorf had attacked. This dream...of the world ending, had felt just like them, only...worse. As if it was a dead certainty that this would come to pass and not a damn thing she could do would prevent it. "I can't remember...only that it was frightening," she finally said. "Go back to sleep."

"Mmm...you too..."

Tira gave her no choice as she pulled Zelda back down onto the futon, wrapping her arms tightly around the princess to stop her from moving away.

"Big day today," she murmured before falling asleep, her breath tickling Zelda's neck.

But sleep did not come easily to Zelda for the rest of that night. Her mind kept wandering back to the maniacal face, the young man that laughed as the world cracked apart, proud that he had caused it all. Who was he? The Enlightened One? Possibly... She fell asleep sometime later, but dawn came too quickly.

* * *

"Hm..."

Rial surveyed the landscape from the hilltop, relishing in the brisk wind that blew in from the north. The sun was slowly rising in the east, colouring the world a shade of red that reminded him of blood. In the past, it was said that a red dawn meant that real blood had been spilled that night. He knew the people back then had been wrong—the blood was to be shed today. A gust of wind seemed to find its way through his many layers of clothing and armour, and he shivered, welcoming the cold as it only made him more aware of where he was and what was about to happen.

He heard crunching behind him and turned his head, smiling slightly as the princess of Hyrule made her way through the snow towards him. In her hand was a new cane, long and thin but with a surprisingly thick grip. Despite her injury, she seemed to refuse to slow down, simply powering through the pain. When she stepped next to him, he nodded in greeting.

"Your Majesty," he said. She looked pale, and there were dark circles under her eyes, as if she hadn't been able to sleep very well. He didn't blame her—he had barely slept last night himself.

"General," she replied, panting slightly from the exertion. The deep snow plus the sharp incline of the hill would have made even the fittest of men and women lose their breath. "I trust the morning finds you well."

"As well as I can be, considering the circumstances," he replied, studying her cane. It was carved from dark wood, with many interesting decorations and symbols cut into it. The grip, however, was metal and wrapped in leather, like a sword. It seemed to shift slightly, and the distinct clacking sound of metal on wood emanated from somewhere within it. "New walking stick?" he asked.

"A gift from my bodyguard," she explained. "She presented it to me last night, all nervous and jittery, bless her."

"It is not every day one presents a gift to one's princess," Rial noted. "Perhaps she did not think it good enough?"

"Any gift is precious to me," Zelda said, smiling softly, gripping her cane more tightly. "Especially if they have multiple uses." She pulled, and the handle came loose. It was followed by a long and thin blade, sliding out of the wooden sheath with barely a sound. The metal caught the light of the rising sun, reflecting it into Rial's eyes. More blood. The princess gave the sword a few practice swings, checking the balance. "It won't do much in an actual fight, it's much too thin for parrying, but it will certainly catch any eventual attackers off-guard," she said. "I did not expect this."

"I can imagine," Rial said, taking the blade when she offered it to him. It was light, but well made and clearly capable of cutting and stabbing any attacker that assumed she would be unarmed. The grip was perfect and not liable to slip out of his hand no matter how hard he swung it, or so he thought. He handed it back with a nod. "A good blade," he remarked.

"Indeed," she replied. "I was very grateful for it."

"No wonder she was nervous," he said, wondering if there was a discrete way to raise the subject. "It is a very...personal gift."

She noticed his hesitation, and must have sensed his awkwardness. "Why, general, are you implying that there is something illicit going on between myself and my trusted protector?"

He began to stutter, knowing that it was a stupid idea. Damn his curiosity!

"Because if you are," she continued, "you are absolutely right." She giggled when his lower jaw practically hit the ground and he could only stare at her incredulously. "I must admit I have not been very discreet. I hope I have not caused any discomfort or—"

"Not at all," he hastily reassured her. "I was simply curious. I apologise for prying into something that is not my business." He bowed for good measure, his cheeks burning, the morning chill all but forgotten.

She laughed. "Believe me, general, if I thought you were prying or being rude, you would know it." She looked thoughtful for a second, as if debating with herself about something, and then she came to an apparent decision. "What are you going to do when you rescue the King?" she asked.

He shrugged. "My duty," he said, though his mind was filled with something else entirely, the details of which was hardly fit to be spoken of in front of a princess. "Restore his throne, declare my utter fealty—"

"Really?" Zelda said, raising an eyebrow at him in an utterly unnerving imitation of a certain Sheikah. "And here I thought you'd snog him until he faints from lack of air." He must have blushed like a tomato right then, because she laughed and put a reassuring hand on his arm. "Don't worry, your secret is safe with me."

"How did you know?" he asked quietly, his mouth dry. Damn it, why did every single woman around him see through his intentions?

"Well, you do seem quite devoted to him, even more than what is usual for men of your station," she explained. "I had my suspicions, but the thing that confirmed it for me is the way your eyes turn soft and stare longingly into the distance whenever you mention him. It is a look I am very familiar with, because Sheik had the exact same one when he spoke of Link after they first met. The only difference is that Sheik wasn't aware of his attraction at first, though I definitely was." She sighed. "I was so happy when I realised it. I prayed that Link would feel the same way."

Rial nodded slowly. So it wasn't something so overt as a facial expression. "Just my eyes, huh?" he asked.

"Just your eyes...and it's not noticeable unless one is familiar with the look. I believe most others only think you are longing to serve your King and put him back on the throne." She patted his arm again. "And, if you want my opinion, the King would be a fool not to love you back."

"I hope he will," Rial said, nodding. "But I will understand if he doesn't. Truth be told, I just want to see him again."

"Understandable. Know that I will be rooting for you."

"Thank you."

They fell into a comfortable silence then, watching from the top of the hill. After a while, Rial scratched the back of his neck.

"Do you think they've noticed us yet?" he asked, pointing at the walls of Lumina City. The ramparts were manned by hundreds of soldiers, their spears and helmets reflecting the bloody sunlight. Banners flew from every tower, and cannons were pointing in every direction. From atop the parapets, every eye on the wall was fastened upon the pair standing on the hill barely five hundred metres away.

"I certainly hope so," Zelda replied. "Otherwise, I do not think much of their lookouts."

It would have been impossible not to notice the army that was assembling on the field below them. If not the soldiers themselves, then at least the smoke from the fires and the clouds of snow their boots kicked up. The gates were sealed tight and the portcullis dropped. The doors were reinforced with the strongest steel the kingdom could produce and would take a lot of punishment before they yielded. Hopefully, that would not be necessary. Rial turned his head to look behind his army. At the very back of the camp, _The Chimera_ stood on the ground, her balloon being pumped full of hydrogen gas from one of the portable tanks Jedistern had quickly put together at the refuelling station they had taken what felt like an eternity ago. Soon enough, it would be in the air, ready to unleash hell upon the city's defenders.

"Should we move?" the princess said, looking none-too-worried. "We are within cannon range, as I recall."

"They wouldn't dare fire," Rial said with certainty. "Not yet."

"What makes you so certain?"

"They will want to parley."

"Are you sure?"

"If they didn't, they would have opened fire long before I climbed this hill." He looked at her, his fingers ghosting over the hilt of his sword, hanging at his hip. "Are your men ready?" he asked.

"They are," she confirmed.

"And mine seem anxious to get going as well," he said, looking at the foremost ranks of his own troops. They looked fidgety and impatient, as if they couldn't wait to be unleashed upon their enemy. Their own countrymen. That was a worrying thought to him. "I suppose I have wasted enough time standing here."

As they began to walk down towards the assembling army, Rial stumbling more than a few times while the princess remained as sure-footed as a mountain goat thanks to her cane, he began to wonder how he'd gotten to this point when, almost a year ago, he had been happily fencing with Victor in the barracks. It was almost funny how bad things had gotten since then. But now he was back, standing in front of the capital, ready to once again walk its streets and, more importantly, serve his King. Hopefully, in more than one way.

* * *

Sheik watched as Link fastened the last of his equipment to his belt and tightened his gauntlets, looking every bit the Hero he was. His sword and shield rested on his back, and a quiver full of arrows hung on his hip. Sheik was holding the bow, giving it to Link once he was ready, and the Hero slung it across his shoulder.

"Are you sure you don't need more weapons?" he asked jokingly.

"I could ask you the same," Link countered. "How many knives have you got now?"

"I've lost count," Sheik replied honestly. He really had. The exoskeleton had been enhanced with a number of sheaths and pockets, all of which were filled with daggers, stilettos and all kinds of other knives he had been able to find in the camp in addition to those brought by Zelda. His swords were on his back, ready to be drawn at any moment. "At least twelve," he said. "Though I believe the number is closer to twenty."

Link shook his head. "And people say _I'm_ crazy..."

"I think that has more to do with your stunts rather than the number of armaments you carry," Sheik said. "I, as a Sheikah, however, am expected to be a walking flurry of blades. The more the better. In fact, I think I should take on the likeness of a hedgehog with a thousand daggers for quills. What do you think?"

The Hero barely smiled at that. "That was a terrible joke," he said gravely.

Sheik nodded just as gravely. "Indeed. Would the Shadow make a joke like that?" he asked.

Link's smile was genuine this time. "Nope, not at all," he said, leaning forward and kissing Sheik's forehead.

"You missed," Sheik said drily as Link withdrew. "Aim lower next time." He even jutted out his lower lip in a sad imitation of a pout for effect. But Link wasn't fooled by it in the slightest.

"You're bad at that," he said simply and stretched his arms, legs and back, testing his flexibility with the amount of weapons and armour he was carrying. Chainmail was protecting his upper body and arms beneath his tunic, and his legs were encased in hardened leather reinforced with metal rings around the joints. Anything but a direct to his knees would simply leave scores in the leather. He looked Sheik up and down. "Are you sure you don't want more protection than that suit?" he asked.

"Anything heavier than this and it will impede my movement," Sheik replied, also testing his flexibility. "I am not as strong as you, remember. I prefer to move out of the blade's way rather than taking the blow."

"Just be careful, all right?"

They paused. They had been joking with each other all morning, both trying to bury their nervousness under joviality and humour. For all their advantages, they were still about to assault a city, though it was more of a fortress now than anything else. This would be different from the attack on Castle Town during the war with Ganondorf—Link and Zelda had simply teleported behind the city walls back then. Now they would actually take part in the attack. Or, they would be watching it. Zelda had explicitly forbidden them from going in with the first wave, should it be necessary. Their time would come when they made their way to the castle itself.

Sheik nodded. "I will...and I expect the same from you."

"Of course."

Tira approached them from the frontline, nodding to them both. "The princess requests your presence," she said.

"Lead the way," Link said, making one final adjustment to his belt.

The staging area was a mess of men and women all marching back and forth, trying to find their place. The clatter of thousands of weapons being drawn and readied filled the air, and the smell of nervous bowels from the night before was an unpleasant reminder of how vast the army truly was. Behind them, the airship's engines were firing, and the _The Chimera_ lifted slightly above the ground, hovering. It was ready to be committed at any time. Sheik briefly wondered who was captaining the vessel now that Sid was dead. He hoped it was someone at least half as insane as the former spy had been.

Zelda was standing with Rial and the other officers and nobles of the army, watching the massive gates and the seemingly impassive troops manning the walls, waving a white flag.

"They mean to parley," Sheik said as they approached them.

"Isn't that a good thing?" Link asked.

"If anyone but Rehm is in charge of the city's defences, certainly," Sheik said. "Otherwise, the general might find himself in a trap."

"We'll protect him if that happens," Link said firmly.

"And the princess, of course," Sheik said, looking at the cane his adopted sister was now swinging around in a small dance. He caught the small smile on Tira's face as she watched her gift clearly being enjoyed, and nodded to himself. _Definitely a worthy gift,_ he thought.

"They're taking an awful long time to react," Lady Ise said, looking at the walls through a telescope and frowning. "Do you think they will reject any chance for a peaceful solution?"

"I hope not," Baroness Denal said. "If the commander of the garrison has any sense..."

"Sense and sensibility goes right out the window when Councillor Rehm is involved," Rial said sourly. "Last time I checked, Commander Eggard was in charge of the garrison, and he always seemed like a level-headed man. I pray that he was not replaced upon Rehm's ascent to power."

They continued to wave the flag, and for fifteen minutes it seemed like nothing would happen. Rial was about to give up and order the first ranks to get ready with their ladders, when there was suddenly activity on the wall, and a man climbed onto the highest parapet and waved another white flag in response to the first. The smallest door in the massive gate slid open, and the portcullis was raised slightly to allow a party of five armoured men to emerge from the city and walk towards the assembled army.

"Armed?" Rial asked.

"No," Ise replied, watching them through her telescope. "And the man in front is Commander Eggard. Rehm is nowhere to be seen."

Rial sighed with relief. "Then perhaps this will end peacefully after all," he said. "All right, it's time to negotiate. Princess, Lady Ise, would you care to join me?"

"I go where the princess goes," Tira interrupted, blushing slightly at how rude she was. "Sir," she added.

"The same goes for us," Sheik said, stepping up and pulling Link after him.

"All right," Rial said, not feeling like arguing. "Just don't make any threatening movements. And keep your hands off your weapons."

Zelda shuffled her feet. "Given that my cane is a weapon, should I leave it?" she asked, smiling slightly. It was another bad joke. There were a lot of them today. Nothing like terrible humour to keep one's spirits up.

Rial gave her a long stare, eventually shaking his head and beginning to walk across the cobbled highway that led to the gates. Eggard and his men had stopped about halfway between the gates and them, as was customary. It was an unnerving walk, especially when the shadows of the walls fell upon them as the sun was hidden.

Commander Eggard raised a hand in greeting as they approached. He was an older man, with an impressive set of whiskers and mutton chops adorning his face, as if to make up for the complete lack of hair upon his head. Despite his age, his body looked powerful, with a frame nearly surpassing that of Rial's. His eyes were a clear, shining blue that held both kindness and hardness in them at the same time. A large nose jutted from the middle of his face, emerging from the moustache like a proud peak, above tight lips that betrayed not one iota of their owner's mood. None of them were carrying weapons, and Eggard's face twisted slightly upon seeing that Rial's party was armed to the teeth. A clear breach of protocol, but Sheik thought that Rial had done it on purpose. He wondered why.

"General Vortan," Eggard said as they came within voice range, stepping forward. His voice was deep and gravelly.

"Commander Eggard," Rial greeted back. They shook hands.

"You come armed to a parley?" Eggard asked, eyeing their weapons. "This is not a show of good faith."

"With all due respect, commander, your side has not made itself deserving of it. Or, rather, your leader."

"Says the man rebelling against his own King." It was a snide insult, but Rial refused to rise to it. Instead, he shook his head sadly.

"You too have been ensnared by Rehm's lies, then," he said. "I am not rebelling against King Victor. I am rebelling _for_ him. For his throne has been stolen, and you are fighting for the man who did the deed."

Eggard looked annoyed. "This again?" he said. "How many times have I not heard this nonsense being whispered in the streets? King Victor still remains our beloved monarch, though his mind has been shattered by the events of this past year. Councillor Rehm has simply been a steward until the King recovers—"

"And here is _this_ nonsense again," Rial interrupted him. "What proof do you have of this supposed insanity our King has been afflicted with? Has anyone seen or spoken with the King since the night my guards and I were betrayed?"

"The royal physician has on more than one occasion attested to his fragile state of mind," Eggard said, though he sounded uncertain, his brow furrowing slightly. "Though the King himself has not made a public appearance since the night he had a servant drawn and quartered in front of the castle gates."

Sheik saw Rial bite his lip slightly at that. His mind conjured up the image of the young crown prince he and Link had briefly seen the night King Robar was murdered. It was difficult to imagine such a fragile-looking man ordering something so...twisted. Another lie then, most likely.

"Convenient for Rehm, wouldn't you say?" Rial said. "Especially when the royal physician is so deep in his pockets that he is finding lint."

"Grievous accusations with little to no proof," Eggard replied firmly. "None of which will convince me."

"Then how about I give you facts instead?" Rial said, turning around and gesturing at the assembled army behind them. "I have eighteen thousand men and women of Lumina standing ready to storm the gates, plus an additional four thousand men and women from Hyrule who have pledged their support to our cause." He nodded towards Zelda. "And their princess."

Eggard regarded them with calculating eyes. He pinned them on Zelda, who held his gaze with her own, turning it into a match of wills. It must have looked humorous from a distance, the tiny slip of a girl holding her own against a man twice her size. "I had heard that the Hyrulian army had entered our lands. I never thought a just ruler would condone a betrayal like this," Eggard said. "Your father—"

"My father is dead, and I find it surprising that a supposedly level-headed man like yourself would continue to believe the lies fed to him by a traitor like Councillor Rehm," Zelda said quickly and firmly. "I am here to restore King Victor to his throne and ensure that Councillor Rehm is punished for his attempt to have my two ambassadors murdered. My soldiers and I are ready to go to any length to accomplish that."

There was a slight sag to Eggard's stance now, and Sheik knew that the man was doing a lot of math in his head right now. Twenty-two thousand men was a lot to fight back, even from behind such impressive walls.

"I might also add the fact that I have _The Chimera_ under my command," Rial said, giving a signal to someone back with the army, and there was a sudden roar as the ship lifted off, climbing a few hundred feet for effect. "Your walls and gates will not be able to withstand a full broadside from this weapon, commander."

"I have cannons—"

"Old ones that have not half the range of _The Chimera_ 's. The airship can simply float above them and rain hellfire upon your emplacements. They are useless to you."

The commander was losing the parley quickly. Sheik had no idea how many men he had under his command, but they were clearly outnumbered based on the way Eggard's eyes kept looking back at the rebel army. The addition of the airship was in no way an improvement to his own situation. He sighed. "I have been tasked to hold the city against you, general," he said.

"And I have just told you why it is a task you cannot hope to complete, commander," Rial said. "You and your men will all die if you attempt to resist." He stepped closer, lowering his voice. "I am not here to take the city, its people or the throne, commander. I am here to restore justice. If I have to go through you to accomplish that, then so be it, but I would much rather prefer that you simply open the gates, allow my men inside the city and surrender peacefully. Once Rehm is arrested and Victor is once again in his rightful place, I will disband the army and the war will be over." He smiled slightly at the uncertain Eggard. "Too many Luminans have died to this ridiculousness already. Let us not add to the bloodshed."

"My men—" Eggard began.

"Your men will not be harmed, nor will the city's inhabitants. We are not here to rape or pillage."

"And I will ensure that does not happen, should any of our men become overzealous," Zelda added. "I saw enough of that in my own lands not long ago, commander. You can be assured that I will not allow it."

Eggard looked to the officers who had followed him outside. They were all giving him looks that clearly said they were in favour of Rial's offer. Eggard sighed again. "You would swear this on your honours, as a supposedly sworn supporter of the King, and as the honourable princess of Hyrule?"

"I would swear on everything," Rial said, and Zelda nodded in agreement.

"And I swore that I would defend the people," the commander tried.

"And you are, by simply not fighting," Zelda said.

"I...truly cannot win, can I?" Eggard said, looking sadder and sadder for every passing second. "What will happen after? When the war is over? My side..."

"You picked poorly, commander," Rial said. "But I cannot say that, had I been in your place, I would not have picked the same. You will face no punishment, I swear it. The King will understand."

"Then...I suppose I have no choice," Eggard muttered, taking a last look at his men. "I...I surrender. The city is yours, General Vortan."

Sheik felt the tension in his body let go, and noticed that Link was apparently feeling the same way by the way his shoulders lowered slightly. That was it. They had won. The war was finally over, and Rehm would finally know the hand of justice proper, like—

"Open the gates, commander, I would like to go to the castle immediately. I want to give Rehm the...good news myself," Rial said, a small grin on his face.

The commander's face fell further, and Sheik felt a knot of tension beginning to grow again. _I knew it,_ he thought, annoyance growing. _I knew it was too easy. Nothing ever works out like this for us._

"I am afraid I must disappoint you then, general," Eggard said, some small measure of a smile crossing his face. The smallest of victories can seem like the greatest triumph in the face of the defeat he had just suffered. "Councillor Rehm is not in the city. Nor is the King."

Rial's quiet look of relief and happiness and was instantly crushed, and he turned back to the commander with a stony mask in place of his countenance. "What?" he asked quietly. "I believe I just misheard you."

"You did not," Eggard said. "Rehm and the King departed the city week ago. It was deemed unsafe for the continued wellbeing of our beloved monarch."

"Where did they go?" Rial asked, just as quietly as before, though there was a tremble to his voice that betrayed the immense anger that was building within him—mirroring Sheik's own.

_Damn it all, how long do we have to tolerate this foolishness?!_

"Is it in my best interests to—"

The commander was interrupted then, as Rial roared and grabbed Eggard by his uniform and brought their faces within inches of each other, snarling. "Where. Are. They?" he repeated slowly. "Tell me, damn it!"

"Where do you think?" Eggard said, glancing towards the north, to the distant mountain ranges that surrounded Lumina on all sides. Even from this distance, the towering peaks were visible—imposing and, in a way, oppressing. "They have retreated to—"

"Prison's Peak," Rial finished, his grip on the commander loosening, his hands eventually falling to his sides as they clenched and unclenched. "Of course." His eyes were unfocused, and Sheik could only guess at what thought were running through his head at that moment. None of them pleasant, he imagined. "This...will be...difficult," he said slowly. Then his eyes focused, and he seemed to remember where he was. He looked at the people around him, frowned, and focused on Ise. "Lady Ise, would you do me a favour?" he asked.

"Certainly, general," she replied.

"Relieve the commander of his post and take command of the army. Move them into the city and ensure that our hold on it remains firm."

"Why?"

"I will be taking a small leave of absence," he said and began to walk back towards the army, his pace brisk and fast. Those left behind in the parley glanced uncertainly at each other until Zelda hurried after him, and then everyone else did as well with the exception of Eggard and his men, who remained where they stood.

"Care to tell me what you are planning, general?" Zelda asked as she struggled to keep up with him, her face twisting into a grimace for every step she took on her injured leg.

"I'm going after them, of course," Rial replied.

"Without the army? The march—"

"Will take far too long," he interrupted. "I have wasted enough time getting here to let Victor remain in that madman's clutches for a single day longer. By nightfall, Rehm will be dead and Victor will be back where he belongs—on his throne!" His usual gaggle of officers surrounded him immediately as he entered the staging area, but he waved them all away but one. "Lieutenant!"

"Yes, sir?"

"I need volunteers for a high-risk mission to end this war tonight! Possibility of death extremely likely!"

"Er, yes, sir. How many?"

He practically dragged the lieutenant after him as they walked towards the spot where _The Chimera_ was still moored to the ground, floating high above them.

"Where's Tadian?!"

They found the engineer by the hydrogen gas tanks, having chosen not to take part in the battle. He looked surprised at the sudden appearance of Rial and his trailing party...or by his harrowed face, at least. "General?" he said.

"How many people can be aboard the ship at any one time?" Rial asked. His hands were still clenching.

"Pardon?"

"I said, how many people can I possibly squeeze into that fucking barrel and still be able to take it up to Prison's Peak?"

"I'm not sure," Jedistern Tadian replied, still not catching onto his meaning. "Er...maybe..."

"How many?!"

"In addition to the crew...no more than three-hundred, if even that," the engineer said hurriedly. "Any more and it will be too heavy to fly reliably if you keep the guns. But Prison's Peak? I didn't design the ship for that altitude—there will be stability issues, and the boiler might not be able to produce enough steam for the thrusters. General, it will be extremely dangerous."

Around them, all work had stopped as the soldiers and support personnel stopped to watch their commander yell at the engineer. Sheik bit his lip, wondering how much this episode was weakening Rial's respect from his men.

"You heard the man, lieutenant," Rial said, ignoring the warnings from the engineer. "Three-hundred. No more, no less."

Jedistern looked like he wanted to protest for a second, but then he rolled his eyes and sighed. "Two-hundred and ninety-nine, lieutenant. You will need me to keep it afloat."

"Fine!"

"Two-hundred and ninety-eight," Zelda said. Everyone turned to look at her with wide eyes of surprise. "What?" she asked. "I said that I wanted to take a look at this Prison's Peak, and this is my best chance, is it not?" She noticed Tira, Link and Sheik beginning to shake their heads and stopped with a simple look. "And since I know it will be impossible to convince them otherwise, I suppose I will be taking these three as well."

"Fine, fine, I don't care, just get those volunteers, lieutenant!" Rial said hurriedly, the stress nearly overcoming him by the look in his eyes. This was a man almost on the edge, confirmed by the suicidal mission he was organising, in Sheik's opinion. "And will someone flag that fucking thing down so we can get started?! Tadian, if the captain won't agree I'll need you to fly it!"

"Right."

With the orders given, Rial sighed heavily and sat down on a crate, burying his face in his hands. Zelda pulled Sheik and the others away, giving the man some space.

"Did we just volunteer for suicide?" Link asked.

"I believe so," Sheik replied.

* * *

There was a storm raging within Rial's mind. He was only vaguely aware of that fact that the first ranks of the army were already marching into the city, several of the officers frantically running around and trying to get the volunteers he'd asked for. He'd understand if no one came. The city was theirs, and with it, the controlling seat of Lumina. Rehm was practically powerless now. He'd have to come down from his mountain at some point, and they would be ready to take him then. Rial wanted him now! He wanted his hands around the old man's throat, squeezing until the life left his eyes and there was a sickening crunch as his windpipe was crushed. He wanted the body paraded through the streets! Too many times had his machinations stood in Rial's way, and he refused to accept it anymore. The flight to the mountains would take several hours, and he'd come up with a strategy by then.

His head was pounding as hard as his heart, the stress of the past year finally getting to him. He felt...frail, like even the slightest movement would shatter him like glass. Was this how it felt to have a breakdown? He kept his feet planted firmly on the ground, and dared not lift his head or open his eyes. The world would be spinning, a never-ending carousel of nausea.

Someone touched his shoulder, and it was a true struggle to force himself to actually look up. The world did indeed spin, but he was able to keep his eyes firmly on the cowled and hooded Ard standing in front of him. Lor was standing just behind him, looking worried.

"You're going after him?" Ard asked. "The man who killed her?"

There was no doubt as to which 'her' the warlock was referring to. "Yes," he said.

"I'm coming with you."

And that was it for that conversation. Ard and Lor walked away, Lor looking like he was trying to get Ard to reconsider. There would be no dissuading the boy, Rial knew—he was far too stubborn. And he did have a right, didn't he, to a chance to help apprehend or—in the most delightful scenario Rial could imagine—burn Rehm to a crisp. And Lor would follow, because gods knew the boy was attached to Ard in a way Rial could not understand. Magic was strong glue, apparently.

There was a familiar roar and loud, ground-shaking thumps as _The Chimera_ set down somewhere behind him, the ground crew rushing to prepare it for another take-off that would happen very soon.

Death or victory—it didn't matter anymore. He just...needed to get there.

* * *

To Sheik's surprise, more than three hundred men and women volunteered for what was ostensibly sold as a suicide mission. He wanted to think that they were all filled with patriotic pride or love for their King—though it was more likely that they were hoping for a reward, should the mission succeed. If none had come, Zelda would probably either have tried to talk Rial down from his spur-of-the-moment decision...or supplied her own soldiers. Sheik had tried to get her to change her mind about this, but she was adamant about going to Prison's Peak, citing Rauru and the other Sages' worries as more than enough reason for taking the risk.

And where Zelda went to risk her life, Sheik would follow. And that was why he was standing with her, Tira and Link in the middle of a large group of soldiers, watching as Rial walked back and forth in front of them in an attempt to gather his thoughts. He had calmed down now, luckily, and seemed to be thinking straight. _The Chimera_ loomed behind him; the gangplank was lowered and the flight crew was watching curiously from the sides. Sheik gulped at the thought of having to board that monstrosity once more.

 _The things I do for family,_ he thought.

"I'm not going to make any speeches," Rial said loudly enough so everyone could hear. "The mission is this: we will fly to Prison's Peak, assault the Winter Palace and rescue the King. The secondary objective is to capture Councillor Rehm, dead or alive. Preferably alive, but I'd rather see him dead than have him escape."

He paused and looked at the volunteers. They were all enlisted soldiers, many of them from Riveth's original ranks. The rest were defected men and women from the Royal Army—their skill, equipment and morale dubious at best. They would have to do.

"I'm not going to lie—our chances of success are slim at best. Many will die, and more will be injured. I will not begrudge those who decide this is not for them, but I will be eternally thankful for those who stay. And the King will never forget those few who braved life and limb in this undertaking." He looked at them. Not a single one walked away. "All right, then. Thank you."

Someone was descending the gangplank, their face obscured by an outrageously large hat with a gigantic plume of feathers sticking out from the top. They were female, the custom blue and red uniform hugging their form just in the right places. They walked with a slight limp, and a sword hung on their hip. They looked quite a bit like a pirate, in fact. Sheik wondered who it was, and then he saw that the person's left sleeve was empty, sewn so that it would not flap about uselessly and distractingly. _No way,_ he thought.

"Captain, will you and your crew be joining us?" Rial asked, looking up at the newcomer.

"It will be our utmost pleasure," Elenwe said, taking off her hat and sweeping it in a low bow. " _The Chimera_ is ready to kick some ass!"

"How fitting," Zelda murmured, laughing slightly.

Sheik noticed another familiar face on the ship. Kafei was looking over the side, grinning at his lover. So those were the clothes he had been buying for her, then? He wondered whose idea the pirate theme was. Probably his. Or maybe she felt like being ironic.

"Then that's it," Rial announced, looking at the assembled group. "No more delays, no more waiting. We leave immediately! Best of luck to you all!"

* * *

The boarding didn't take long, and Sheik quickly found himself sympathising with those who had been forced into the cargo hold, where there would hardly be any room to sit down, much less move around. The crewmen and weapons and ammunition took up the rest of the space. He supposed he, Link, Tira and Zelda were lucky to be invited onto the bridge, though that too was slightly cramped. Unfortunately, this meant that he had a full view of the world as it rapidly dropped from under them, the ship lurching as it turned northwards and fired its engines with full power. It was not a graceful flight—the complement of fully armoured soldiers causing several balance issues. Sheik's hand found Link's, and he squeezed as hard as he could every time it felt like the ship was going to take the fateful plunge to the ground below.

Unfortunately, the Hero wanted to see the view and pushed through the crowded bridge until he and Sheik were practically squeezed up against the glass next to the captain's chair. Elenwe looked up from her instruments and gave the two an amused look, focusing particularly on Sheik. The brim of her hat nearly obscured her face, but there was no mistaking the wry grin on her face.

"You're really not cut out for boats, are you?" she asked.

"What gave it away?" Sheik asked through clenched teeth.

"The very distinctive green colour on your face that brings out the red in your eyes quite amazingly," she said, giving him a longing look. "A bit like Kafei, actually."

"Kafei doesn't like flying either?" Link asked, tearing his gaze from the unparalleled way of Lumina.

"You kidding? First time he came aboard when I flew he threw up within minutes," she said, guffawing. "He didn't do well with the gusts. I bet the weakness extends to the waves as well. Weak stomachs run in the family, huh?"

"Possibly," Sheik said, looking around the bridge, hoping to settle his stomach. "Where is he, by the way?"

"Down below, probably," she replied, shrugging. "He doesn't like seeing how high we are—I can only imagine how bad it is now that we're...well, we're close to crashing any minute, actually."

"Ow!"

Sheik gave Link an apologetic look as he loosened his grip on the Hero's hand slightly. The idea of crashing had sent a momentary panic through him.

"That is so cute," Elenwe said, laughing.

"Captain," Rial said, suddenly appearing at her side. "How are we doing?"

"We're flying through the air like a pregnant cow, general," Elenwe replied jovially. "Can't imagine how much worse it's going to get when we get up in the mountains."

"Much worse!" Jedistern Tadian's voice said from somewhere in the back, his voice somewhat muffled by a large soldier carrying a huge war hammer who was standing in front of him.

"You heard the man," the captain said, shrugging. "You all right back there, professor?"

"Barely! I think I will be heading down to engineering to help them when we reach the proper altitude!"

"Appreciate it!"

Sheik ignored the shouted conversation and looked down at his booted feet. His toes were curling inside them. He truly hated flying. _How much longer do I have to suffer through this?_

"How long is this going to take?" Link asked.

"Eight hours at full speed, approximately," Elenwe said. "We're at...ninety-five percent power at the moment, I think, or so the thingy on the panel here tells me. We're not pushing it completely because Jedistern wasn't able to fix the engines completely after your little tumble in the air with the other airship." She shook her head. "I hate math..."

_Eight hours._

_Eight hours._

Eight _hours._

 _Eight_ hours!

An utter nightmare, this would be.

"So...how come you're captain, all of a sudden?" he asked, desperate for a distraction.

"I volunteered," Elenwe said. "They needed someone with experience, and I figured I was the best person for the job. It's a lot like sailing a normal ship, there's just one more dimension of movement to worry about—up and down. Diagonal movement is a bit weird, of course, but it's matter of getting accustomed to it, really."

"In a week?"

"I'm a fast learner."

* * *

"So, what is the plan, if I may ask?"

Rial looked away from the window where he'd been studying the approaching mountain range. The sun was setting, which meant they were getting close. Princess Zelda was giving him a look of curiosity.

" _Is_ there even a plan?" she said.

"Not as such," he admitted and shrugged. His mind taken a very one-track approach to the problem, and it always finished with his hands around Rehm's throat and Victor cheering him on in the background. Unfortunately, that was the extent of his imagination, and the parts that described _how_ he got to that point where as hazy as they were upon lift-off. "I keep thinking about what I'm going to do afterwards, to be honest."

"Hmph," the princess said, frowning. "That does not bode well for our attack."

"Indeed it does not," Rial said, deciding that maybe _some_ planning would be in order. He reached for a piece of paper that littered the workstations on the bridge and a pencil. He tried his best to remember the general layout of the Winter Palace, the plans of which he had studied as captain of the Royal Guard. He had never had the chance to visit the place and see it for himself, and that was a definite disadvantage. The only parts of the plans he could remember with absolute certainty were the corridors of the keep itself, and some of the secret tunnels that opened into the surrounding mountainsides. Not a single one led to the King's chambers, for fear that intruders would use them to directly get to him.

He drew up a quick map of the exterior of the fortress, filling in the parts he'd forgotten with his imagination and what made sense. The results were far from pretty, and barely legible. He had never been a great artist. It gave him a certain idea of what to expect, however, and he showed the drawing to the princess.

"As you can see, the fortress is surrounded on two sides by mountains, another by a sheer drop straight down the cliffs, and the field in front of it is most likely covered by every ranged weapon known to man. We are far too few to risk a frontal assault that way," he said. "We could take the chance on finding one of the tunnel entrances, but I heard that they are difficult to find unless you know exactly what to look for."

"So there's only one option, then," Zelda said, pointing at the central courtyard, right in the middle of the fortress itself. "We go in here."

"Exactly," he said. "With the guns, we should be able to clear a landing zone and have our men rappel down from the cargo hold. _The Chimera_ will remain close for air support."

"How many enemy troops can we expect?"

"The garrison holds at least a thousand—gods know how many more Rehm has brought in." He pointed at the outer walls. "Luckily, the barracks are mostly concentrated in the walls. If we manage to make our way into the keep and bar the doors, we should be able to avoid most of the troops."

"And once we're inside?" Zelda asked. There were still dark circles under her eyes, but she looked far from tired now.

"Here," Rial said and took another sheet of paper, drawing the corridors and rooms of the keep as he remembered from the plans. "The King's chambers are close to the main hall. Behind that, we find the entrance to the mines and the...supposed prison." He gave her a nod. "You're more than welcome to explore it once we have secured Victor."

"Hm, and these?" she asked, pointing at the lines going from certain rooms and corridors.

"Tunnels, the ones we cannot find from the outside," he explained. "We should secure a few of them, to ensure we have a way out if things go poorly."

"Which they probably will," she said with an ironic grin. "Things rarely go to plan these days."

"Hence why we need escape routes," he finished. He shook his head. The headache had returned with full force. "Suddenly, I feel much too sober for this."

"I think we might be," Zelda said. "But I don't think your King would appreciate his knight in shining armour showing up absolutely plastered."

"I suppose not," he replied, looking sourly out the window. It was almost completely dark now, and he wondered how they were going to find the fortress if there was no light. "Can't this thing go any faster?" he asked no one in particular. He was anxious and just wanted to get it all over with.

"We go any faster and we go _down_ , general," Elenwe said from her seat. "And at this height, you really don't want that. Besides, the navigator tells me we'll be there in twenty minutes, give or take five. Might want to inform the crew of the plan...if you've got one."

"How do I do that?" he asked.

"Speak into this tube," she said, tapping one of the many brass tubes that covered a great deal of her station. "It goes to every section of the ship."

"Right."

He squeezed his way towards the tube, and hesitated in front of it. It was hardly a plan they had. Barely an idea of what to do, really. But that was how this had to go, he supposed. The princess was right—his plans rarely came to fruition, and maybe what they needed for once was to not have one. Hell, maybe they'd walk away without a single casualty! He grinned at that; what a moronic idea that was. Of course there'd be casualties. A lot of them, most likely. He shook his head and grabbed the tube, took a breath and spoke.

* * *

Sheik pushed an offending elbow out his side, glaring at the woman who had accidentally given shoved it into his side. She gave an apologetic grin.

"Easy," Link said, calmly placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Easy," Sheik repeated, glaring daggers around him. There were too many people here, and the room was far too cramped.

Everyone who was going to take part in the assault had been herded into the cargo hold after Rial had explained his plan. The cargo platform still hadn't been fixed, so they would have to use ropes get down to the ground through the doors. It was going to be a harrowing—but quick—trip down, but Sheik was happy it would mean he didn't have to be on the ship anymore. All around them, in the red light from the gas lamps on the wall, he saw drawn and anxious faces. Some were clearly regretting their decision to come along, it seemed, now that they had heard exactly what they were doing.

The turbulence was getting worse, their altitude interfering with the hydrogen's ability to carry the weight of the ship. The thrusters were firing continuously to stabilise their flight.

"Had a feeling I'd find you here," Kafei said as he pushed himself between two burly soldiers. He looked just as nauseous as Sheik felt. "Heard the plan? Ridiculous."

"And yet you're here," Sheik observed. Knowing his cousin, he was participating for the same reason Sheik was.

"Yet I'm here," Kafei said, shaking his head. "What Elenwe sees in this thing, I will never know."

"Her uniform looks good, though," Link said, chuckling slightly.

Kafei looked at him. "Yes. Yes it does." The look in his eyes told Sheik all he needed to know. His cousin had a thing for women in uniform, it seemed. And that was all the speculation about Kafei's sex life he was going to engage in that night.

 _"Two minutes!"_ Elenwe's voice, twisted and muffled by the speaking tube she was yelling into, echoed in the hold.

"Two minutes!" Rial repeated from somewhere ahead of them, closer to the cargo doors. He would be the first to rappel down. It was only proper, he'd reasoned, that he should take the risks first since this was _his_ plan.

The shaking got worse as the thrusters began to fire more tactically, seemingly trying to position the ship optimally. It was awful, not being able to see what was happening around them, Sheik decided. This way, it was impossible to predict or anticipate anything, especially—

There was a deafening series of roars and violent vibrations that went through the entire ship, nearly knocking them all to the floor as _The Chimera_ fired its first volley. Sheik rubbed his ears, the loud ringing silencing everything else, watching as Rial signalled to a crewmember to turn the wheel that would open the doors. They fell open, creating a gaping hole in the floor. The freezing wind immediately blew into the hold, setting their teeth chattering, and lights from below shone inside. Hundreds of fires with the shadows of soldiers running frantically around the darkened walls and parapets.

 _The Chimera_ fired again, angling its cannons downwards this time, and a wall below them collapsed. Their view of the world shifted as the airship swung from side to side with every shot, brought off-balance by the sheer acceleration. A tower was struck and had a good amount of its side gouged out. The sounds of cannon fire erupting around them, coupled with the howling wind and roars of the engines, no one could hear themselves thinking, much less what Rial was shouting from the middle of the hold. He realised this, and Sheik watched as gestured to another crewmember, who released a latch, dropping several spools of rope down through the open hatch.

Their way in.

Everyone held on tightly as the airship moved again, the fires and walls and courtyards below shifting and moving as Elenwe positioned them above the courtyard they wanted.

"This is it!" Rial shouted, voice barely audible. "Let's go!"

There was no further ceremony or preparation. He leapt into the air, grabbed hold of the nearest rope and slid down, through the hatch, and was gone. It took everyone a second to realise what had happened, and then, two or three at a time, the soldiers roared and threw themselves through the hatch after him, holding on to the rope for dear life. Some missed the ropes, either because the airship shifted slightly or because of sheer clumsiness, but their screams went unheard. The lines around them moved steady forward, and Sheik found himself separated from Link, the Hero's line quickly lagging behind his own. Their eyes met, however, and there was an unspoken agreement.

_Be careful, don't do anything stupid, and damn you, survive!_

He exchanged the same look with Kafei, behind him and to the right. He would be one of the last out, it seemed.

The fighting had already started below, Rehm's soldiers pouring into the courtyard despite the airship firing upon them from above. Several archways had collapsed, preventing soldiers from entering the courtyard through them. Several of Rial's volunteers were already getting to work on the doors to the keep, pushing and hacking away at the stops.

Then it was suddenly Sheik's turn to go. The metal shook under his feet, and the rope for his descent was dangling a few feet away. Suddenly, he felt an overwhelming desire to step away from the hatch, the idea of jumping down there filling him with fear. He clenched his teeth, looked at Link again—and jumped.

* * *

Link saw Sheik get a grip on the rope and begin sliding down, his gaze firm and serious—and then he was gone. The world turned sideways as the left side of _The Chimera_ exploded, flames erupting in the cargo hold. Link was tossed around the hold with everyone else, the hatch suddenly above him, to the right, and gone. He slammed into the opposite wall, crying out in pain when one his ribs definitely cracked.

 _"We're hit, we're hit!"_ Elenwe's voice shouted.

Another explosion shook the craft, and Link landed on the floor with a thud, the wind knocked out of him. The ship lurched again, downwards this time, and Link found himself in the air once again, though this time he managed to twist his body around, landing on his side. He cried out again, intense pain flaring up in his ribs. A flash of purple appeared in the corner of his vision, and he saw Kafei trying to climb to his feet, grabbing at the piping on the wall to steady himself. Several volunteers tumbled out through the hatch, desperately grabbing for the ropes but finding nothing but empty air as they fell.

_"Fuck, I think they got the balloon! We're losing pressure quickly!"_

The ship lurched even further to the side, and it was now clear that they were out of control. Link did as Kafei had, pulling himself up by the pipes. The engines fired with full force, the vibration causing even Link's teeth to clatter together.

_"Everyone who's not out, hold on! We're going down! I repeat, we're going down! Hey!—"_

Link and Kafei looked at each other.

The world went dark.

* * *

**Soul Remnants**

**Chapter 87**

* * *

Sheik knew something was wrong the second he was clinging to the rope as he rappelled down to the courtyard. It was more like a semi-controlled fall. Or it should have been, but instead he found himself flying a lot more horizontally than he had expected—and a _lot_ faster. The courtyard disappeared from view, replaced by a whirlwind of towers, walls and parapets flying by, the rope spinning him faster and faster. The air was bitingly cold, and he was barely able to catch his breath.

 _The ship has been hit,_ his surprisingly calm train of thought told him. _Have to let go!_

But his fingers refused to do so. No matter how hard he tried to open his fingers, they did not budge. For a moment, he became dreadfully aware of how dangerous this was. Any moment, he could smash into a pillar, or the mountainside, or—

He never finished the thought. He slammed into the side of a parapet, pain erupting in his side. A gasp of pain was knocked out of him, and his fingers slipped. The world rolled as he hit the floor, rolling and not slowing down in the slightest. He yelled and thrust out his hand, fingers grasping for something, anything, to slow him down. His digits found a niche, and he gripped. The snap felt like it was going to yank his arm out of his socket, but it was infinitely better than tumbling into the abyss he was currently dangling over. He kicked his legs until he found purchase with his feet and hauled himself back over the edge of the wall, breathing in relief.

It was short-lived, however, as he remembered what was happening. His eyes took to the sky, watching _The Chimera_ , which was quickly losing height and spiralling out of control. The thrusters were firing erratically, the crew trying to right its trajectory. They were failing, however, and Sheik's heart thumped heavily in his chest, knowing that Link and Zelda and the others were still aboard. It disappeared behind a cliff, and the sound of the crash deafened even the howling wind. A ball of flame erupted from the area, lighting up the entire mountainside.

"No," he whispered, his eyes burning from the brightness, the icy wind blowing into them...and the tears that were gathering in the corners. _All of them...gone..._ "No...no...no..." It became a mantra. This couldn't be the end, it just couldn't! After all they'd been through, after all they had lost, gained, fought...and this was it?

"No!"

The scream was eaten by the wind, crushed and discarded, his final plea to the powers that be for it not to be so unheard, ignored... He crawled to his knees, hunched over from pain from the impact, his ribs surely bruised or cracked. Everything around him became fuzzy, blurred and unnoticed, the broken tower on which he stood fading into darkness as his gaze was firmly set upon the cliff behind which the airship had crashed. Someone would climb across, or down...appear on the crest. They had to!

But no one did climb up the cliff, nor did any life signs of any kind appear. And the longer he waited—for how long he did not know; it could be hours or minutes—the agony of loss was slowly replaced by the purest, simplest and easiest emotion of all—white-hot rage. All the barricades he had built with Zelda, all the defences he had put up to stop the residual traits of Speil from rising to the surface were wiped from existence, the barriers broken—and he was glad to let it happen. After all, who was he trying to protect now?

His cries may have been swallowed by the wind and the clamour of battle, but the sight of his descent had not. Footsteps, many of them, were coming closer and closer, the clinking of armour growing louder for every second.

"He landed over here!"

A door on the opposite tower of Sheik's, connected by a narrow, crumbling stone bridge, burst open. Eight armoured soldiers spilled out, their eyes landing on Sheik's kneeling form, barely visible in the light from the burning fires and torches. "Over there!"

Sheik's gaze focused on them, and an unbidden, but not unwelcome smile slowly spread across his lips, his teeth bared predatorily.

_Enemies..._ _**all ready for the slaughter...** _

Rehm's men, all of them. They had shot down _The Chimera_. They would _**pay**_!

He slowly got to his feet, the pain in his side forgotten completely, masked by his anger. His hands found the handles of his swords, and the sound of their unsheathing could be heard even over the wind. Their weight comforting, forged on the order of his cousin as a gift of reconciliation, he knew their blades would soon bathe in the blood of vengeance. And he would enjoy every second of it.

His legs moved on their own. He reached the first enemy halfway across the bridge—barely wide enough for one man. One swipe with his main blade, and Sheik sent him stumbling into the air, and down to the ground. He hit the cobbles with a sickening crunch, his cry of fear abruptly cut short. Sheik did not see it, he was too busy opening the second man's throat and sending him the same way. He was across the bridge, ducking under the axe of a third attacker. He struck out and severed the hamstring behind his right knee. The soldier barely had time to cry out in pain before Sheik's defensive blade sank into his neck by his collarbone, cutting into everything vital below it.

Sheik said nothing, and made no sound as he did all this. His cowl was lowered, and the soldiers barely caught glimpses of his savage grin between his movements. He moved too fast for them to react properly, darting in between them and dodging their attacks like they were nothing. The last thing they all saw before the darkness of death claimed them, were the twin orbs of red flashing in front of their faces, one of them marred by a milky-white slit in place of the iris.

It barely took three minutes before all eight of the attackers were dead, but for Sheik it had been mere seconds. He came to, crouching in the middle of a circle of dead bodies with his blades dripping blood on the black stone beneath him. He looked around, studying the wounds and killing blows. Crude, imprecise...but effective. Below him, the sounds of battle could still be heard. The airship's descent had spilled out more soldiers than expected, the rebels immediately swarmed by those who followed Rehm. All of them had participated in _The Chimera_ 's destruction. They all deserved to die.

He stood up, studying his main blade closely. It looked good like this, he decided. The anger grew again, and he knew that it would seize control if he let it.

And he did.

It almost felt liberating, leaving all the fighting to his instincts and rage, letting his body do all the thinking and doing while his consciousness leaned back, almost watching impassively. He dove through the door and down the stairs, erupting into a smaller courtyard where Rehm's men were pushing a small group of rebels back. He barely noticed the pile of bodies in the middle of the yard, wearing silver armour that gleamed in the torchlight. His swords were biting into the first man within seconds, punching right through the flimsy leathers he was wearing. His body twitched as his spine was severed, but Sheik was already moving onto the next target.

A red haze covered his eyes, matching the spray of blood from severed arteries. He dodged and weaved, flipping over his opponents and kicking off walls, making himself impossible to hit, all the while his blades opened wounds left and right.

"Argh!"

Sheik withdrew his sword from a man's thigh, barely paying attention to which colours he was wearing—the Royal ones—and crossed them, one on each side of his neck. His fearful eyes looked up at Sheik's, lips moving in what seemed to be a silent prayer or begging for mercy. It might have been silent, or not. Sheik didn't care. He sneered and uncrossed his swords. The man's head went rolling across the courtyard, stopping in front of the gathered rebels, who had retreated from the carnage that this lone, wild young man—more like a boy—had unleashed upon their enemies. The leader of the group winced visibly when Sheik turned his eyes on them.

"Enemies. Where?" The words came through gritted teeth, the lips barely moving to enunciate.

"Er..." the man hesitated.

_**"Where?!"** _

"That way!" the man pointed towards a high doorway that seemed to lead into another, larger courtyard. "General's that way, we were heading—hey!"

Sheik needed only the direction, not bothering to listen to the rest of the stupid, asinine words coming from the slow-minded idiot. Why would he care where the _**fucking**_ general was? All he wanted was for every single one of Rehm's men to die—and then the man himself. It would be a slow death, and messy, like the one he visited upon the child rapist in the Shadow Temple so long ago. His heart thundered as he paced across the cobblestones, skipping a beat every now and then. Even now his traitorous body insisted on reminding him of how little time he would have. Stupid, unneeded bit of information, and every skipped beat served only to fuel the all-consuming furnace in the pit of his stomach.

Courtyard after courtyard—the fortress seemed to consist of only them and little else. Scattered melees that he ended decisively, nearly taking a few allied heads as well before realising who he was swinging at. He climbed stairs and ran along the walls; refusing to be bogged down on the ground any longer He found a cannon nest, their barrels mounted in cradles that allowed them to fire upwards. These had taken down _The Chimera_! He made short work of the crew, pushing two of them over the wall and into the abyss before tossing an oil lamp at the powder barrels. They exploded, taking a large piece of the wall with them.

He rampaged along the wall, cutting down archers firing upon the rebels through slits in the wall and parapets. An arrow struck the toe of his boot, barely missing his big toe. He snarled at the archer in the tower above. He drew a dagger and threw it, hitting the woman right in the eye. He didn't even watch as she fell from the tower and to the courtyard below.

He reached another courtyard. This was one was far bigger than the others, and a large stone structure carved into the mountain itself and covered in torches stood at the other end. The fighting here was the most chaotic.

 _The keep._ He could barely hear his own thoughts over the thumping of his heart and the ringing of bloodlust in his ears. There were soldiers fighting and dying everywhere.

At least half of the volunteers had made it off the ship before it crashed, and they had been concentrated here. Sheik joined the battle eagerly, almost dancing gleefully between the groups of fighters, stabbing and cutting wherever he saw an opening—and there were a lot of them.

He had no plan, no strategy. First, he would kill the soldiers. Then he would find Rehm and kill him. And then...he didn't know. Even those thoughts went out when he spotted Rial. He was fighting on the steps to the keep, taking heads left and right with broad, powerful strokes. He had carried a shield before dropping down—it was nowhere to be seen now. His face was covered in cuts and scrapes, and his armour was soaked with blood—both his and the enemy's.

 _His orders. His plan,_ Sheik thought. _His fault!_

His feet pounded on the steps, all rationality gone. He swung. Rial barely noticed it in time and ducked, raising his sword to parry the second swing from Sheik's other blade.

"Hey, what are you doing?!" the general managed to shout before he was forced to dodge another pair of attacks from the Sheikah. These strokes were even clumsier than the previous ones—the anger was taking too much control now, overpowering even his instincts and innate skills. "Sheik, stop!"

"This is your fault!" Sheik screamed. "You made this happen!" He didn't wait for a reply and kicked Rial in the chest. The general stumbled along the steps, nearly falling backwards. Some of the rebels with him were noticing that one of their own was attacking the general and began to break off from their fights. Sheik didn't notice.

"What are you talking about?!" Rial demanded, dodging and parrying the strikes from Sheik, which were getting heavier and slower.

"The ship! You led it here! They...shot down!" The words were barely intelligible, much less capable of conveying meaning. "Your fault!"

Rial realised what was happening and shook his head. "I didn't know they had cannons with this range, I didn't expect—"

"It's your _job_ to expect!" Sheik shouted and spun, aiming a kick at Rial's jaw. He narrowly dodged it, waving off the men who were advancing on Sheik from behind.

"Well, I've clearly failed then, haven't I?" Rial shouted back. "I—" he spun around and sliced through the throat of the enemy soldier that had been sneaking up on him, rounding back to face Sheik in one clean motion. "I didn't ask you to come!"

"The princess did, and now she's dead! And Link! All because of...because of..."

It was as if the fire was slowly dying within him. His grip on his blades slackened, and the defensive one clanged loudly as it hit the cobbles. The realisation that Zelda and Link were gone was more effective than any barricade against his anger—it was as if someone had poured a bucked of water over his inner furnace.

"Sheik? Sheik!" Rial cried, jumping forward. Sheik thought he was attacking, and tried to assume a defensive stance, but tripped over a body behind him. "Shit!" he heard Rial say before there was a whoosh, the sound of metal striking metal and flesh being cut. A spray of blood, a grunt, and another body hit the ground next to him. "You all right?"

He grabbed a hand that was offered to him, and he was hauled to his feet. Rial looked at him worriedly, a fresh cut on his face—it went diagonally from the tip of his left eyebrow to just below the eye. Sheik looked at the body that had fallen. Enemy soldier. From his blind angle. Rial had just saved him. "I..." he said.

Something was thrust into his left hand. His sword. Rial gave him a look.

"I know you're angry, and with a good reason," he said. "But please, direct it to something useful and help me get inside the keep and save the King. After that, you can do whatever you want with me."

Sheik narrowed his eyes. With the red clearing from his vision, he could think more clearly. Rial couldn't have known about the cannons' range or how easy it would be to shoot down the airship—he didn't possess that knowledge, and the possibility had slipped his mind in the rage—the same as Sheik's. A mistake anyone could have made. He nodded slowly. Perhaps it wasn't his fault entirely. More Rehm's, really. "When we find Rehm," he said slowly. "I want to kill him."

Rial narrowed his eyes too. "We'll decide that when we have him."

Sheik nodded.

Rial nodded.

The other side of the courtyard exploded, raining bits of masonry, sand and body parts on the rest of the fighters. Sheik glanced up, seeing another cannon in a tower, the crew already reloading. "I know how we can open the door," he said.

Rial, obviously thinking the same thing, grinned. "Let's go!"

* * *

Victor's eyes blinked blearily. Something had woken him up. He sat up in his bed, rubbing his eyes and looking around. The only light in the room came from the fire in the hearth, which was burning low, the room already beginning to cool down. He felt underneath his pillow, reassuring himself that his weapon was still there.

The floor vibrated as a muted boom could be heard. Rehm was still blasting away in the mines, then. That was both troubling and reassuring at the same time. It meant that he still hadn't gotten through to what he wanted, and that meant there was still time for Rial to arrive—

"Alert! Every man to the gates!"

He heard the call even through the thick doors to his chambers.

"Oi, one of you, get over here and help us defend the doors! The rebels are attacking!"

Victor practically flew out of bed and threw his clothes on, making sure that his bone was tucked safely into the back of his trousers, hidden beneath his shirt. He padded over to the door and opened it, peeking his head out. A single soldier stood guard now, and he looked nervous and twitchy. Victor opened the door further.

"What's going on?" he asked, feigning ignorance, pretending not to have heard the cries outside.

"Get back inside, Your Majesty," the soldier replied, his voice shaky. "Now."

"Not until you tell me what is happening," Victor insisted, stepping closer. His heart was beating wildly.

"I said get back inside!"

"Is it to do with them?" Victor asked, pointing down the corridor.

The guard didn't realise the mistake of looking away until it was too late. The second his head turned, Victor drew the bone from his belt, gripped it between his knuckles and aimed a vicious punch at the man's neck, which was unprotected by his armour. It sank into the skin with barely any resistance at all, the edge so sharp it could be used for shaving. Blood spurted from the wound, and a disgusting gurgling sound came from his mouth, which was trying to say something. Victor didn't give him a chance, withdrawing the bone and stabbing again and again, four, five times until the man sank to his knees, fingers grasping ineffectively at the multiple wounds in his throat.

Victor gasped as the blood shot into his face and eyes, but he refused to let it faze him, not until he was done. Throwing away the bone, which clattered loudly on the stone floor, he reached for the guard's sword, drawing it from the sheath. With a loud roar, he held the heavy blade over his head and brought it down. It wasn't a clean blow—the sword only cut about halfway through the neck. Victor wasn't strong enough to sever his head in a single stroke—but it wasn't necessary, for the guard gave a last gurgle and grew still, a pool of blood gathering beneath his body.

Victor's back hit the wall, and the sword slipped from his grasp as he watched the twitching body, his breath ragged and eyes wide. He'd done that...he'd killed a man. He tried to wipe the blood from his face, but his hands were covered as well, and it only serve to smear it. The smell made him gag, and he stumbled back inside his chambers, shoving his face into the washbasin and scrubbing ferociously for as long as he dared, knowing that it was only a matter of time before someone came by and found the mess in the corridor.

He wiped his face dry on his sleeve and went back into the corridor, trying not to look at the body. He wasn't entirely sure of where to go now—he had to find a way to join with the rebels. They hadn't gotten inside the keep yet, but if they wanted control of everything, then the great hall would be their target. It would be wisest to wait there—he had little confidence in his fighting ability: he had only gotten lucky with the distracted guard. A year ago he might have been able to fight someone head-on, but the combined weight of the sword and the weakening of his body made it impossible.

"Main hall," he whispered to himself. "Right."

From there he would be able to control the complex systems of grates and portcullises located throughout the keep. Most of them would be closed, he was sure, to make it difficult for Rial and the others. Victor was going to ensure the odds swung in their favour.

* * *

His whole body hurt—that was the first thing Link became aware of, groaning as he opened his eyes. A freezing wind blew, and people were shouting all around them.

"Link, wake up, come on!" Zelda's frantic voice said, her blurry form looming over him, looking down at him with concerned eyes. She had a cut above her eye that was still bleeding, but otherwise she seemed to be unhurt.

"What happened?" he asked, his back screaming in protest. He was lying among several wounded soldiers and crewmen, many of them sporting head injuries and vicious cuts. One had a piece of brass tubing stuck through his shoulder. Suddenly, Link's pain didn't seem as bad.

"We got hit," Zelda said. "We crashed."

"Are you okay?" Link asked, looking around them. It was almost completely dark—a few oil lamps scattered here and there around the crash site revealing the shadowed forms of crewmen and soldiers scrambling around the wrecked airship. _The Chimera_ lay on its side, a gaping hole in its side revealing the cargo hold where Link had been just before he fell unconscious. There were bodies in there, he realised with a shudder.

"I'm all right," the princess said, fingers touching at the wound. "Knocked my head on the edge of some instrument-thing, but it's hardly a scratch."

"How many did we...er...?" Link wasn't able to finish the question. He feared the answer.

Zelda frowned. "We lost about half the volunteers and crew," she replied. "But Tira, Elenwe, Kafei and the warlocks are okay. Mr. Tadian too, but he went back inside the wreckage—I've no idea what he's up to."

"Right," Link said, shaking his head as the last vestiges of the blurriness went away. "Help me up."

He swayed slightly on his feet, but Zelda was there to steady him until he his legs stopped trying to impersonate jelly. His bad knee ached—the cold was playing havoc with it.

They seemed to have hit a plateau of sorts, a mostly level field of snow surrounded on all sides by rocky peaks covered in ice. The soldiers around the ship were up to their knees in snow—none of them dressed for these conditions. Link himself was feeling decidedly chilly.

"Maybe you should sit down again," Zelda suggested when Link remained unsteady.

"No, can't," Link said, shaking his head. "We have to find a way back to the fortress—we have to get to Sheik and the others!"

"That's not a problem," Elenwe said, appearing from the darkness. She looked completely unharmed, if a bit dishevelled. Kafei was close on her heels, though he had a few cuts and bruises—the tumble around the cargo hold hadn't done him anything good. "We didn't go down far away. It's just over this crag, actually." She pointed at the closest peak—a towering wall of pure stone. "Too bad we can't climb it, though."

Link looked up. He could climb that, no problem. He'd climbed far worse back in Hyrule. He couldn't think of any examples at the moment, of course, but he _had_ just been in a deadly airship crash so he was more than willing to cut himself some slack. He ignored the protests from Zelda as he immediately stalked over to the wall and began to search for foot- and handholds, finding a few right away. He smiled. Hah, this wasn't going to be a challenge at all. He started, and got a few feet off the ground before his grip slipped on a patch of ice and sent him sprawling back in the snow. Kafei helped him up, his back burning.

"I don't think that'll work," the Sheikah told him, looking up. "Doubt even Sheik could climb that—it'll just end in broken necks all around."

"Then we have to find a _way_ around!" Link shouted. He hadn't seen Sheik hit the ground safely, but he couldn't allow himself to think of the possibility that he'd slipped and fallen. Sheik had survived and was fighting at the fortress _right now_ —and he needed help!

"I've already ordered the men to look around for anything that might help us get away from this place," Zelda said. "I took command since the general is elsewhere, and the men needed guidance lest they wander around like sheep."

"Well, no one objected," Elenwe said, shrugging. "Not that it'll matter—we'll all freeze to death up here if they don't find something."

"Hah, I knew it!"

Jedistern Tadian's triumphant cry could be heard even over the wind, and he was carrying a torch as he emerged from the airship's bowels, looking a bit harrowed but otherwise fine. They watched as he approached quickly, tripping twice in the snow and falling face-first into it.

"You're looking happy for someone who's stranded in the mountains," Kafei said drily when the engineer finally reached them.

"Oh, I am, for we might not be stuck up here after all," Jedistern said. He pointed at the airship, or more specifically, the armour casing for the balloon. "I decided to see how bad the damage to the balloon is and climbed inside the shell. For the life of me I could not find a single hole in the material, and yet the balloon has deflated! We weren't punctured, captain, we were simply...damaged. One of the valves burst, and the hydrogen simply leaked through there. That's why we didn't go up in a ball of flame when we crashed either—the gas didn't vent anywhere near the flames!"

"While that is good to know, Mr. Tadian, I am not sure it helps us unless you can fix it," Zelda said uncertainly, stamping her feet to generate some semblance of warmth in her body.

"Oh, but I can, Your Majesty," he said, nodding excitedly. "The valve and piping just needs replacing, and that's a simple bolt-job."

"And the gas?" Elenwe asked. "We don't have any more of that, in case you forgot. We cleared out the hold for the soldiers, remember?"

Jedistern deflated a bit, but the disappointment was simply momentary, for another idea seemed to cross his mind at that instant. "That is a problem indeed, but I have a solution!" he said. "The young sorcerers—"

"Ard and Lor," Link said.

"Yes, them," Jedistern said, nodding gratefully. "My solution will require their assistance."

"What's the plan?" Kafei asked.

"Well, do you know the principles of physics and avionics?"

The little circle fell deathly quiet, but Elenwe slowly raised her hand. "A little—what you taught me."

"Oh, that's useless, then, I only taught you about the gas," Jedistern said, shaking his head. " _The Chimera_ and, indeed, the other airships have all used hydrogen for to keep it afloat, as you remember. Well, we can achieve the same effect with something as simple as hot air!" The blank looks he received were disappointing, it seemed, for he sighed. "Hot air is less dense than cold air, and therefore lighter," he said. "We fill the balloon with enough cold air until the envelopes are sufficiently full, and then we heat that air until the ship lifts!"

"And you need the warlocks for?" Zelda asked, looking intrigued. Link knew she was always happy to learn new things, and this was an entirely new field for her to gain knowledge in.

"Well, it will be difficult to generate heat without a burner, and a normal fire takes far too long," Jedistern said, shrugging. "But I have seen what...er...the white-haired one—"

"Ard," Link said, slightly annoyed that the engineer couldn't be bothered to remember their names.

"Yes, I have seen what Ard is capable of—"

"And he can generate enough heat to lift the balloon!" Zelda concluded.

"Exactly!" Jedistern said, grinning. "We will have to make some modifications to the structure of the ship, remove the armour around the membrane so it can expand even further and such, and the ship will probably only be able to take one more trip before it collapses under its own weight now that most of the structural integrity has gone, but at least we won't be stuck on this accursed plateau any longer than necessary!"

"Get to it then, Mr. Tadian," Zelda said.

"You will need to speak with Ard and Lor first, to see if they agree," Link said.

"Agree?" Jedistern said. "Surely they will do what is best for the group—"

"Magic takes a lot out of you, Mr. Tadian," Zelda said. "Believe me, I know. Worst case, if no one stops sorcerers from over-exerting themselves, they can die."

"Ah...yes...I will speak with them, then," Jedistern said, looking a bit ashamed. It seemed not even he was above learning something new. "Has anyone seen them?"

"I believe they are in the wreckage, trying to keep warm," Kafei said. "I will help you find them."

Zelda turned to Link and was about to say something, but Tira suddenly appeared from the snowdrifts, absolutely covered in the stuff. Two others accompanied her.

"Princess!" she said. "We have found something—a possible way through the mountain!"

"You found a pass?" Zelda said.

"No, a tunnel!"

It _was_ a tunnel—and not a natural one either. It had bricked walls and a cobbled floor, and sconces for torches lining the walls. _The Chimera_ had cut deep gouges into the plateau as it went down, practically skipping along the ground before coming to a halt a quarter of a mile after the initial impact area. Tons of snow and earth had been tossed in every direction...and a hole had been punched into the tunnel roof, collapsing it.

Tira handed an oil lamp to a soldier who climbed down into the dark passage.

"What do you see?" she asked.

"It stretches off for miles in both directions!" the soldier called back. "Must be one of the secret passages out of the Winter Palace!"

"Or our way in," Link said, already climbing in after the man. Zelda's hand on his shoulder stopped him.

"We cannot be impatient with this, Link, let me get the rest of the volunteers."

He gave her a sour look and considered asking if she was actually comfortable with not knowing whether or not Sheik had made it off the ship okay, but thought better of it. She had a point. It would be stupid to charge into a situation like that without backup—especially if Rial and his men hadn't been able to penetrate as deep into the fortress as they would with this tunnel. He forced himself to calm down, but climbed into the tunnel, just to see. Not that there was anything to actually see—none of the torches were lit, so it was really only two apparently very long stretches of pure darkness in either direction. The air was heavy, and there seemed to be an inherent dankness to the tunnel. It had clearly not been used for a century or more. He just hoped it hadn't collapsed further in.

It didn't take long for the princess to return with every man and woman that could be spared from the repairs of the ship, which were already in full swing—it was amazing how motivated some people became when they were told they would survive if they did this and that. Ard and Lor had apparently agreed to help re-inflate the balloon as well, so at least they knew they had a way out if things went more south than they already had.

They lit several torches with oil from their lamps and began to place them in the sconces, bringing an entire crate of them from the ship. Then, each armed with a torch and his or her choice of arms, they moved down the tunnel, heading for the fortress. Ninety-four of them, there were, and each one was a fighter. Link considered asking if Zelda shouldn't stay behind so that her wound wouldn't get her into trouble, but she must have read his mind and gave him such a stare that he was ashamed before he even got to ask the question. Tira had similar thoughts, apparently, but didn't voice them either.

"I have been tasked by the other Sages to see what is going on with the Prison," she said simply. "I intend to complete it."

Link nodded and concentrated on keeping on foot in front of the other, all the while ignoring the aches his body was suffering from the crash. The agony of not knowing what had happened to his lov-frie-no, definitely lover, was far worse, he thought. And so he readied himself for a fight. He was getting Sheik out of there!

* * *

Rehm held his breath as someone approached the inner sanctum from the main passage, sighing in relief when it was only Marlotta. The two men he'd assigned as his personal guards relaxed their stances, though they kept their hands on their blades just in case something even more unpleasant followed the countess. She looked exhausted, and her hair was a mess. She was wearing a dressing gown, having been woken up in her sleep to respond to the sudden attack by the rebels.

Rehm had been caught slightly off-guard as well. He had anticipated that the rebels would attack from the air like this—that was why he'd had the cannons mountain to fire upwards instead of downwards, after all—but not this soon! The bastard Commander Eggard must have surrendered the capital without a fight, the coward! _And_ he had told the rebels where they were! Well, General Vortan might have been able to figure that one out by himself, truth be told, but still... When all this was over, Eggard would suffer, Rehm decided.

"Report," he demanded the second Marlotta stopped in front of him. He was deliberately keeping his back to the door behind him. They had breached the inner sanctum the day before, and he'd spent the rest of that time preparing for this. But right now he needed to ensure that he would have enough time to go through with his plan.

"The rebels have taken the central courtyard," she said, panting slightly. She had been running, then. "They haven't breached the keep yet, but it is only a matter of time."

"What? They can't be more than a few hundred, how are they holding off an entire legion?!" Rehm said incredulously.

"It's the fortress," Marlotta said. "It was designed so very few could hold back many. They have sealed many of the gates leading to the courtyard, and that makes it easy to hold off our troops at the openings that are actually defensible."

"Damn it!" Rehm exclaimed. "We are _so_ close now, and yet the gods seem insistent on keeping us from it!"

"How are we doing, anyway?" Marlotta said, looking behind him at the object he both feared and desired the most. It was of the purest white stone, contrasting yet fitting well into the seams of precious metals and clutches of gemstones. It had been estimated that there was enough riches in Prison's Peak to keep Lumina going for centuries, even millennia. But that paled in comparison to the price Rehm was after. And it was behind that door, that pure white stone portal it laid. The symbol of the Triforce had been carved into the centre, a warning to any and all that would dare to disturb it. There was a hollow beneath the symbol, a seemingly empty hole behind which lay only eternal darkness. In his hands, Rehm clutched the object that had been recovered from the Hall of Silence by archaeologists, whom he'd later had killed to ensure that no one knew about it. It was the key to opening the door. One of them, anyway.

"We are almost ready," Rehm said. They were alone in the sanctum—he was the only one who knew how to open it, after all. "Just a little more time." Already he could feel the door attuning to their presence, accepting them.

"With all due respect, Rehm, I do not think we have any time at all," Marlotta said. "We need to open it now."

"Doing it prematurely will unleash catastrophe upon us all, even our prize!" Rehm thundered. His patience with the greedy and, in the last few days, increasingly paranoid woman had been running short ever since he had arrived at the fortress, and now he simply found her intolerable at the best of times. But she was his closest—and only—ally at this point, and she would be necessary for the opening of the door. "No, we need more time...and I believe I know how we can get it." He put the bundled object gingerly on the ground, afraid of accidentally breaking it. He fumbled in the many hidden pockets of his robes, and finally recovered a most useful weapon he had been inspired to create in the short time he'd been in this gods-forsaken fortress.

"What is that?" Marlotta asked, looking at the weapon. "A tube?"

"Fill one end with gunpowder and a metal ball—a miniature cannon, if you will," he said. He was quite proud of it—the dimensions and measurements had to be precise; otherwise it would blow up in the user's face. If he'd had more time, he might have considered adding a proper handle, perhaps a firing mechanism that was more elegant than the hole he simply stuck a wick into and lit, but such was life, wasn't it? Never enough time for anything. "The guards have been dispatched to hold the keep?"

"The defensive gates and portcullises are in place as well," she said, nodding.

"Then I entrust the sanctity of this chamber to you, Marlotta. Protect it at all costs." He headed for the passage back into the keep, flanked by his bodyguards. They would function well as shields, if nothing else.

"Where are you going?" she asked, sounding like she was about to panic.

"To buy us more time!" he replied.

"How?"

He turned back to her and grinned. "I have always found the concept of hostages to be quite rewarding in this regard."

* * *

"Fire in the hole!"

The gates of the keep exploded inwards as two cannons fired simultaneously upon them. They were no match for the sheer force generated by the speed and mass of the cannonballs. Sheik grinned slightly—it was good to be on the correct end of those things for once, especially when they were used for this.

"Charge!" Rial cried, leading his small band of volunteers into the keep.

A hundred had managed to survive the insertion—forty were left behind to ensure none of Rehm's men made it to the inner courtyard. The remaining sixty were currently pouring into the open gouge in the mountainside. Rehm's men were waiting inside, and already Sheik could hear the sounds of fighting within.

His bloodlust stirred, but this time he kept his anger in check, allowing only the glee of battle to fill him instead. He readied his blades and charged into the breach with the others, giving a ferocious battle cry that rivalled the best of them.

* * *

Victor was panting slightly as he finally arrived in the main hall of the Winter Palace. It was empty—Rehm's soldiers had been moving to the doors in order to head off the rebels when they broke in, it seemed. That was perfect, because it had laid his path completely bare, and he'd had no use for the sword thus far. Not that it would be of much use to him, heavy as it was.

The main hall was decorated in the colours of the Silver Guard—dark green and, perhaps unsurprisingly, pale silver that was meant to remind people of their armour and name. It was an immense room—meant to seat at least half the garrison at any time. Long tables with seating for five hundred reached from end of the hall—where the raised dais upon which the throne of the visiting King sat was located—to the other end, where a large set of doors leading to the rest of the fortress barred any man's attempt to enter. Stairs on either side of the room led up to porch-like platforms, where more tables were placed, as well as Victor's target. He raced up the right one, and was relieved to find that what his Father had told him about this place was true.

A series of pulleys, levers and wheels lined this wall. From here, every gate, door and portcullis in the entire keep could be controlled. There were complex mechanisms built into the walls and floors that enabled this amount of control. He only hoped they still worked. He couldn't lock doors completely, but he could make them more difficult to open, for certain...

But that was not what he was after. He began to pulls on the levers and turning the wheels. Throughout the keep, gates would swing open and portcullises would rise, all by themselves and to the detriment of the traitorous defenders. Without these, they would have a hard time defending against Rial's troops. The thought of his— _his_ —bodyguard coming all this way to save him, or so he hoped the case was, set a fire in his chest and he could not wait to see the man again. This time he would not hesitate—he would make sure that Rial knew Victor was on _his_ side!

To ensure that no one would disturb him as he assisted the rebels—loyalists in his mind—he lowered the grate in front of the doors to the main hall. If an enemy managed to open the doors, they would find a wall of steel in their way—and at this range it would be impossible for archers to hit him. He was safe now, and all he had to do was wait.

He never noticed the draft coming from the hidden door behind the throne.

* * *

Sheik threw himself forwards and rolled under the wide horizontal blow aimed at him. The big, double-headed axe whistled as it cleaved the air, and Sheik had no doubt he would have been cut in half had he not dodged it. He drew a dagger and flicked it to the side, catching a second attacker in the throat, barely giving him a glance. His sword bit into the axe-wielders unprotected knee, bringing him to a kneeling position. The axe fell with a loud bang, and then its owner, his head rolling down the hall.

Kafei and the smith had been brilliant when creating these blades, Sheik decided, wiping the blood from it with his sleeve. He glanced around him, noticing that a small, open space had been created around him. Few of the enemy fighters seemed willing to engage him. That made sense, given the carnage he'd left behind during the initial intrusion into the keep.

They were making their way down corridor after corridor, trying to find the way to the main hall. Rial's general idea of the layout had turned out to be quite wrong, and they were currently just picking hallways at random. So far it had only yielded more enemies to fight, and it was beginning to wear on the men. Rial himself didn't even seem to slow down—he was far too invested in finding his King to allow himself to become tired. Sheik, however, was starting to feel fatigue creeping up on him that not even the perpetually burning bloodlust could stave off. His arms and legs were burning from the exertion of dodging, parrying and striking.

He stiffened and spun around, sword raised. It was barely in time for the blade to catch on the mace that was aimed at his head. It knocked his sword out of his hand, changing the trajectory so it only brushed the air in front of his face, feeling the slight wind created by the horrible lump of metal. He jumped backwards, crouching down, armed only with his defensive blade now, which he slid from its scabbard. He drew another dagger and switched hands so that the short sword was in his right hand while the dagger was in his left. It was difficult to hold the long-handled dagger, which wasn't balanced for his lack of digits on that hand.

His attacker was a young man, barely older than himself and not even wearing proper armour—only a leather jerkin with a shirt beneath it. Rehm had been cheap when outfitting his troops, it seemed. The fact that he'd managed to sneak up on Sheik and nearly taken his head off like that was pure luck on his part, at least judging by the clumsy stance and twitchy movements.

 _I wonder what he was promised in order to betray his King at such an age,_ Sheik thought. The fires of his rage rose from within, and if he had even been entertaining the idea of going easy on the attacker, it was squashed.

_A traitor is a traitor!_

He dashed forward, dodging the slow attack, spinning and—in a movement he knew was too fast for the boy to even see—stuck his blade in his gut, angled upwards to pierce his heart beneath his ribcage. The already wide eyes grew wider, and the mace tumbled from the boy's grasp, clattering on the stone floor. His mouth formed words, but there was no sound apart from the ragged breath. The light in his eyes was already fading, and Sheik pulled out his sword. The boy fell to the floor—dead. Sheik retrieved his main blade and reassumed his normal stance.

"Sheik!"

He turned and saw Rial shouting at him. More and more of Rehm's troops were closing in on them from all sides, and only one door seemed relatively unobstructed by people fighting. "That way?" he shouted, pointing at it.

"Our only chance!" Rial replied, already heading for it.

Sheik got halfway across the hall before the door opened on its own accord, and more soldiers spilled forth, shouting wildly. Sheik nearly threw himself at them, intending to kill as many as possible before he noticed that someone very familiar was leading the charge.

"Link!"

Their eyes met, and Link smashed the pommel of his sword into the back of an enemy's head without even looking away.

Had this been any other time, Sheik had no difficulty believing that Link would do something extremely foolish like picking him up and spinning him around in a circle while laughing loudly—and truth be told, he probably wouldn't mind that as long as they had been alone. But they were in the middle of a battle now, and they both realised the time for that would have to be later.

It was an immense relief to see that not only Link was okay, but Zelda and Tira as well. The two made an interesting team, Tira doing the heavy fighting and blocking while Zelda darted in and out between them to deliver precise blows and stabs to their opponents with her sword cane. She barely seemed bothered by her injury at the moment, but that might the rush of battle blocking out the pain.

He felt the intense anger that had gripped him since seeing the airship go down slowly letting go, and soon he was back to fighting the way he preferred—calm, collected and, above all, cleverly. He didn't charge his opponents now, he let them come to him and simply let them do all the work of exhausting themselves and exposing vulnerable spots. He didn't satisfaction from the kills either, luckily. That had been the most disturbing part of all.

He studied Link's fighting for a moment. The Hero still had an aversion to killing, preferring to knock his enemies out instead—or injuring them enough so they gave up. That was when Sheik learned that Link was not above hacking off hands and fingers if it meant he didn't have to kill anyone. The hand in question went flying by at head-height, a few feet from Sheik's face—Link's sword had sliced cleanly through flesh, tendons and bone. It was an impressively sharp weapon. The Hero followed the maiming with a swift punch to the man's face, laying him out. Their eyes met, and Link gave a little shrug, as if saying that it was either that or death for the man. Sheik gave a shrug of his own.

It was strange how much it changed him, knowing that Link was so close by. Sheik found himself knocking enemies out more than he killed them—wondering if Link ever judged him for killing in situations like these.

It seemed like there was a never-ending supply of enemies to fight, and Rial looked close to exploding with annoyance when one of the heavy, iron portcullises fell from above a door, blocking one of the passages from which enemies came. That left two doors, and one of them was the dead end from which Link and the others had emerged. They began to move down the other corridor.

"Where did you come from?" Sheik heard Rial ask Zelda as there was a brief lull in the fighting.

"We accidentally—and fortunately—opened up one of the escape tunnels leading into the fortress," Zelda explained.

"The ship?"

"Mostly broken, but Mr. Tadian believes he can get it up and flying for one more trip."

"Casualties?"

"Many."

Rial swallowed heavily at that. Their deaths lay heavily on his mind, Sheik knew, even if it was preoccupied with something else at the moment. He'd probably have nightmares about them later—because that was the kind of man he was.

"Any progress here?" the princess asked.

"I can't remember any of the passages from the map," he admitted. "But I am working with the assumption that the more enemies are in our way, the closer we're getting to our target."

"Fair enough."

Link was suddenly jogging beside Sheik, giving him a relieved smile.

"I knew you were all right," he said.

Sheik looked away. "I thought you weren't," he admitted.

"I can tell," the Hero said, looking him up and down, studying his clothes, which were soaked with the blood of his enemies. "No more anger, okay?"

"I'll try."

Another portcullis fell shut behind them, unfortunately trapping some of the volunteers with the pursuing enemies. They told the others to go, that they would hold them off. That too bothered Rial, but he tanked them sincerely and promised they'd be back soon. It was a lie, of course, but that was half of what being a good leader was about—lying convincingly enough to comfort someone in their last moments.

It truly was a maze, this place, and enemies waited around every corner. Many volunteers fell—either to combat or to random security measures falling down on them. One woman was cut in half by a razor-sharp grate that had suddenly fallen down on her.

Eventually, they reached what appeared to be an antechamber, a sort of crossroads. Two hallways stretched from left to right, while a large pair of doors stood in front of them. There was no mistake about it.

"This is it," he told everyone. There were about forty of them left now. Many others were still alive, but trapped in the other parts of the keep. It was a depressing tally. More enemies were rushing at them from all sides now, their footsteps echoing in the stone halls. Rial went up to the doors and tried to open them. "Gah, fuck, too heavy. Help me!"

Sheik, Link and Tira went to him and pushed. The doors yielded little by little, incredibly heavy. By the time they'd gotten them open just widely enough for a single person to slip through at a time, the doors stopped moving, hitting some sort of block, and the enemy was upon them again—too many to fight this time. Sheik sighed inwardly. _So close..._

"Go, general!" the lieutenant who had constantly been at Rial's side—even at this time—said. "We will hold them off and block the doors. Save the King!"

"But—"Rial began.

"Go!"

"You will be honoured for this!"

The general went through the doors, followed by Sheik and the other Hyrulians. He admired their spirit, but Sheik had no intention of dying in a last stand. Not here. Not now.

They pushed the doors shut and barred them, finding that the things that had been blocking them from opening any wider were large stacks of cannonballs, part of the arsenal Rehm had brought, it seemed. Behind the doors, they could hear the fighting. Screams, metal smashing into metal...

"No, no, no!" Rial cried suddenly, and Sheik turned around. He felt like joining in on the screaming himself. Another one of those damnable portcullises stood in their way, blocking their entrance into the main hall. They could see it through the bars, brightly lit and...empty? "How do we open this?!" the general demanded. "Come on, don't just stand there!"

There was little Sheik, Link, Zelda and Tira could do but stand around awkwardly. The walls around them were naked stone, and the only objects were the stacks of ammunition—the space they stood in was barely large enough for the five of them in the first place.

"I don't think—"Link began, but then a voice from the hall cried out.

"Rial? Rial, is that you?!"

The voice was familiar, but Sheik couldn't place it. Rial could, however, and his eyes grew wide and he practically hurled himself at the portcullis, glancing into the main hall. "Victor! It's me!"

There was what could only be described as a shout of delight as the King ran down the stairs on the left of the hall. Sheik barely recognised him. The past year had been terrible to him. Not only had he lost a lot of weight, but his eyes were bloodshot and there were dark rings beneath them. The wide smile, however, seemed to revitalise him somewhat.

The King paused a few steps away from the portcullis, hesitating. "I...I knew you'd come," he said, voice shaking. His eyes were shiny with quickly gathering tears.

Rial's mouth opened and closed a few times. "I...I came. To save you. Are you hurt?" he asked, panicked upon noticing the blood covering the King's uniform.

Victor smiled. "I'm all right. The...the man who guarded me isn't, but..." The smile faded slightly. "I'm sorry...that night, when you were attacked, I didn't know...I thought—"

"I know, I know," Rial said, reaching out through the bars. "We were all fooled—I don't blame you at all. I'm just so happy to see you again."

Victor reached out, carefully touching Rial's gloved hand, as if unsure that he was actually there. "Rial, there's something I need to tell you—"

"There's something I need to tell you too, but...those words are best left for later. Can you open this?" he asked, gesturing at the portcullis.

Victor nodded happily. "Yes, of course I can! Wait a minute!" He bounded up the stairs again and ran along the wall, searching for something among the myriad of wheels and levers that lined it. "Here!" he shouted and began to turn one of the larger wheels. The portcullis began to lift slowly, the mechanism squealing. Rial looked anxious, like he couldn't truly accept that he'd succeeded in finding his King before he was actually standing in front of him. The gate was raising agonisingly slow, the gap barely wide enough for a man to crawl through if he didn't mind cutting himself on the edges.

"Victor, stop!"

The voice surprised everyone, and Victor paused, turning his head to look at raised dais with the throne. Rehm stood there, flanked by a pair of guards.

"You don't want to do that, son," he said, sounding kindly though his stance indicated anything but kindness. He looked towards Sheik and the others. "Ah, the stalwart captain—sorry, general now, isn't it?—and his allies, the princess of Hyrule and her ambassadors. I'm quite surprised you both survived. And I don't know who you are, my dear, but you look quite formidable." The last part was directed at Tira, who moved in front of Zelda, guarding her.

"Rehm, you piece of—"Rial snarled.

"Tsk, such harsh words are hardly necessary, General Vortan," he tutted. "We are all civilised people here."

"I'll gladly forsake civilisation for your sake," Rial said. "Forget a fair trial, I'll judge and execute you on the spot!"

"Don't do that, Victor, please," Rehm said, withdrawing what looked like a metal tube from his pocket and pointing one end at the King. "I'd rather you came down here."

"Don't, Victor!"

"Victor, if you come down here, I promise I won't hurt your friend and his allies," Rehm said smoothly. "And general, I swear that I will not hurt Victor as long as you stay away until I have achieved what I came here to do. I never wanted this kind of bloodshed, but things didn't exactly go according to plan, I'm afraid. If you had just had the decency to die the night I purged the Royal Guard, Vortan, this war would never have happened."

"People would have risen against you," Rial said, casting anxious glances between Rehm and Victor, who had yet to move from his position by the wheel. His hands were still on it, and he looked like he was about to start turning again. Whatever that tube was, however, he didn't like it, and he shook his head slightly, hoping Victor would take the hint. "What are you even trying to achieve?" he asked.

"Isn't it obvious?" Rehm asked, surprised. "I would have thought the princess of Hyrule would explain it to you...or perhaps she has, and you just didn't believe her. Let me spell it out for you, then: I am after what was buried in this mountain a thousand years ago by the Goddesses. And I have worked for far too long to let an upstart captain pretending to be a general stop me. Victor, come down here, _now_." His mask was slipping and the anger was starting to show on his face. The King didn't move, and his mouth began to twitch.

"Councillor Rehm, please listen to me," Zelda said, speaking up. "Whatever you think is buried in there, it is not worth it. If you unleash it...no one will be able to stop it."

Rehm shook his head, chuckling slightly. "Oh, my dear princess, that is exactly what I am counting on."

"Rial, now!" Victor suddenly shouted, turning the wheel as fast as he possibly could. The gate rose a little faster, but still not enough.

A sharp crack, the sound of something exploding, rang out in the hall, and smoke erupted from the tube in Rehm's hand. Victor cried out and fell stiffly, disappearing from view behind the railing. Rial roared and dropped to the floor, scrambling beneath the portcullis. The edges opened deep gashes in his arms and legs, but he didn't seem to care, climbing to his feet and drawing his sword and charging towards Rehm.

"Kill him!" Rehm ordered, running behind the throne and disappearing from view, leaving his guards to deal with the extremely angry general.

Sheik also crawled beneath the portcullis—his slender form passing beneath it with no trouble at all. He should have done so right away, he told himself. He glanced at Rial. The guards didn't stand a chance against the angry general. One had already lost his head.

Sheik raced up the stairs and crouched by the King. Blood was gathering underneath his limp form, though Sheik saw no wound. Victor's eyes were wide with shock, staring up at him as Sheik checked his pulse. It was already too weak.

"Who...I remember you," the King said, the colour gone from his face. "The festival...your skin was...darker..."

"Yes," Sheik said simply. "I must look at the wound." Without waiting for permission, he lifted Victor's torso so he was sitting up. The King groaned and whimpered from the pain, hissing as Sheik's fingers probed at the wound. It was unlike anything he had ever seen before. It was circular, with ragged and torn edges, just like the jacket around it. Blood leaked steadily, and Sheik could already tell it was a mortal wound—close to the heart. He slowly lowered Victor the ground, resting his head on his lap.

"It's...it's bad, isn't it?" the King asked, voice shaking.

"Yes," Sheik said.

"What was it?" Victor asked. "Felt like...someone punched me in the back."

"I have never seen anything like it before," Sheik said. The screams from below had fallen silent, and Rial was suddenly beside them, his face bloody but otherwise unhurt.

"Victor!" he exclaimed. Sheik moved so that the King's head was resting in the lap of his bodyguard instead. Rial looked at him questioningly, imploringly. Sheik slowly shook his head, and the crestfallen look on the general's face was heart breaking.

He got to his feet and moved away from the King and Rial, beginning to turn the wheel that raised the portcullis, trying not to listen to the conversation behind him.

* * *

It couldn't end like this, not like this! All this fighting, all this anguish and pain and hate just so he could see Victor's face again, and now...now...

He clutched Victor tightly, trying to force out all the words he'd been meaning to say all this time, been preparing, but none of them came out, leaving him to stutter and splutter as Victor looked up at him with the smallest of smiles, his face pale like death.

"You're...here..." the King said quietly. "You're really...here..."

"I'm sorry," Rial forced out. "I'm too late—"

"No," Victor said, reaching up and caressing Rial's cheek with his hand. Rial froze, shocked at the action. Was it...could it be...? "I should have told you...before...but I didn't...know myself," Victor whispered. "I...love you, Rial."

Tears were trailing down Rial's cheeks now. It was true—all his hopes and dreams...it was...unfair!

"I...I've loved you ever since I became your guard," he managed to say. "It's...it's not right—"

"Don't...care," Victor said, crying as well. His lower lip trembled. "Want to...kiss you before I...before..."

Rial didn't want to hear it, so he leaned down and captured Victor's lips with his own in a desperate kiss. The King's arms wrapped around him weakly, and his lips moved slowly against Rial's. A year's worth of mutual longing and desire washed between them—and it felt so right. More right than anything Rial could ever remember feeling—the moment stretched on for eternity, and even then he felt like it wasn't nearly enough. If he died right now, he would be happy.

But it wasn't so. Slowly, Victor's lips stopped moving, and his arms slipped, no longer embracing Rial but lying unmoving at his sides, and he stopped breathing. Rial opened his eyes, breath catching in his throat upon seeing the still, content look on Victor's face. His eyes were closed, the corners of his mouth quirked upwards in a small, smile. Rial gently laid him down, kissing his forehead. He leaned back on his knees, staring down at the man he had worked so hard to save.

The agonized wail echoed through the keep, chilling anyone who heard it to the bones.

* * *

**Soul Remnants  
Chapter 88**

* * *

Rehm wheezed as he hurried along the tunnel his men had blasted through the rock in the past week. Torches lined the walls, creating pockets of darkness between them—perilous territory for an old man with weak eyes. Sweat poured down his face. His body was far too old and decrepit for this sort of stress. His knees were screaming with agony, and he was seeing white spots. He took a clumsy step and nearly sent himself tumbling to the ground, his hands blindly reaching out for something to hold steady himself with. His weapon was sent flying into the darkness, ringing metallically as it struck the stone. He managed to grasp one of the support beams and balance himself, after which he was forced to take a break.

"Victor," he gasped, clenching his jaw. "Damn him...should have...done as I...told him..."

It had been a moment of weakness, he realised. He had killed the boy because of the momentary panic that had seized him the second Victor began to turn the wheel. For General Vortan to catch him now...it would have been a disaster. He was out of tricks and plans, not to mention resources. He'd sent the last two men at his disposal to be killed at the hands of the general, purely so that he could make his escape through this blasted tunnel. Even that was at temporary measure. He could only hope that Vortan would be too busy mourning the foolish boy's passing for long enough for Rehm to succeed.

The worst part of it all was that he had been truly genuine with his offer. He wouldn't have hurt Victor. At least, not until he was absolutely forced to in order to keep Vortan away. But no, everyone had to have a heroic moment, didn't they, before their untimely demise.

He took a deep breath and forced himself to continue, ignoring the stinging pain in his lungs and the ringing in his ears. The weapon lay forgotten on the floor—it would take too long to recover it, and it was useless against larger groups anyway. It took far too long to reload for that purpose.

"Not too long, now," he told himself, wondering if it was normal to feel like wanting to vomit after an exertion like this. It had been far too long—he had forgotten so much. The chamber would be ready now, surely? With Marlotta there, the ancient magic would attune to her and accept having its seal tampered with. He could only hope they would have time to do so before their pursuers caught up to them. If they didn't...well, he had _one more_ trick up his sleeve, though he hoped he wouldn't have to use it.

He burst into the inner sanctum, nearly tripping over his own feet this time, and wasted no time stalking over to the door and putting a hand against it, ignoring the questions from the increasingly annoying countess. The door literally hummed at his touch, and an invigorating tingle leapt through his body. Yes, everything was ready. Only when he was sure did he allow himself to focus on Marlotta, who was standing behind him now, looking frantic.

"You were saying?" he asked smoothly, doing his best to ignore that he was absolutely soaked with sweat and probably looked ready to keel over at any moment.

"I said, what happened?!" Marlotta practically screeched. "I heard a bang, and screaming, and that's it! And you come here, looking like Death himself!"

"If you must know," he said as he reined in his rapid breathing, trying not to sound as old as he felt (and was, Goddesses knew), "I have murdered King Victor in cold blood." That made the countess quiet down immediately, her eyes widening and her jaw falling open. It was a good look for her, he decided. Mostly because of the accompanying silence. He shook his head. "It wasn't just a whim, you know. It was out of necessity. He was about to let the ravenous wolf that is General Vortan into our lair, and I had to stop him."

"D-did it?" she asked, finally having processed what he just said.

"Did it what?" he asked.

"Did it stop him?"

He paused, wondering whether a white lie was in order. "No," he said, deciding that the cold, hard truth was necessary instead. Perhaps that might shock her into actually being useful. At least, before she was actually needed. "It merely delayed them. If we are lucky, they will spend more time mourning that fool than worrying about us."

"And if they don't?"

"Then, my dear, we are truly and utterly fucked," he replied, staring at her for a moment. He walked over to the bundle of cloth and picked it up, unravelling it. "Luckily, the door has finally recognised us as guardians and will accept our input."

It was a flight of fancy somewhat, the guardians bit. He'd made the term up on the spot when he'd planned all this with Marlotta and Agon, Goddesses rest his worthless soul. Really, the door would respond to any pureblooded human, which was why their presence would have been necessary. Agon would have served the same purpose, though Rehm had been hoping for the countess, as you'd have to search far and wide for blood purer than hers... He had taken a long look at her family tree and found a disturbing amount of siblings taking each other as husbands and wives. Apparently, she was one of the few who hadn't. So far, anyway.

"It has?" she asked, looking at the portal. The Triforce symbol was as imposing as ever, in Rehm's mind. "We will finally be able to open it?"

"Very soon," he replied, letting the last bit of cloth fall to the floor. The stone looked anything but real. It was smooth and polished, with delicate carvings of a long-forgotten language covering it. It was shaped like a cone; the rounded tip the same colour as the white door. Already it was vibrating with a yearning to be united with the keyhole. Rehm had no idea who had made the key or decided to hide it in the Hall of Silence, but they must have been quite powerful to pull off such a feat. Or perhaps simply allied with the Goddesses. "Now, stand back."

She did so as he carefully walked back to the door, touching it once more to feel that refreshing spark of life go through him before slowly inserting the keystone into the door. It slid in smoothly, magic sparking slightly. Once only the rounded tip was visible, it turned slightly, the writing beginning to glow a pale blue, erupting into flames of the same colour that filled the triangles of the carved Triforce, filling the entire room with blinding light.

"It is working!" Rehm exclaimed, excitement rushing in his chest. It was finally happening. Years of planning were paying off! "Only a little more time now!"

"And next comes the blood," she said, her upper lip stiffening. Even now, the mere prospect of such a duty was giving her the courage to go on. And why shouldn't it? It was a great honour, after all. "When?"

"I believe...I believe we can do it now," he said. "Come, my dear." He reached out a hand, and she took it. He reached his other hand into a pocket, withdrawing a penknife. "Just a small prick, and it'll be done," he said, preparing to cut her palm. The blade touched her skin—

**"Rehm!"**

* * *

The moments after Victor's death had passed by in a blur for everyone. They definitely had for Sheik. One second they had all been gathered around the King's body and the weeping Rial, the next they were following the general as he roared and charged into the tunnel behind the throne. It led through a gate and into the mines of Prison's Peak.

No one had set foot in this place for centuries, judging by the state of disrepair everything was in. A newer tunnel had just recently been carved into the rock and they were following it now. No one had bothered to clear out a lot of the smaller debris, which resulted in all of them tripping and stumbling every now and then. None felt this more keenly than Zelda, whom Sheik heard muttering curses every few steps. It was difficult enough moving fast with her injury; it must have been hell trying to move across the pumice and rocks.

But she was keeping up, and Sheik was glad for that. The last thing they needed was for Rial to charge alone into what was most likely going to be another trap set up by Rehm. Sheik hoped he would be wrong, but the old man was crafty, and even at this stage he was pulling surprises. That weapon he had unleashed on the poor King was proof of that. He cursed as he felt the floor beneath him slide, having stepped on another bit of debris and had to crouch down to regain his balance. His fingers brushed against something metallic. They gripped it, and he was running again, examining the pipe.

It looked quite like a miniature cannon, only more crude and amateurish. Rehm must have dropped in his hurry. He caught up to Link and handed him the weapon. The Hero examined it with a look of disgust and gave it back.

"Vile weapon," Link said.

"But quite ingenious," Sheik replied. "Might have enough power to punch through plate—only crossbows can do that, and this thing doesn't require you to crank it either."

"You _like_ it?!" Link exclaimed with disbelief.

"I can appreciate the engineering and thinking that resulted in its existence," Sheik said, shaking his head. "Do I support its use? No, I do not."

"Then throw it away!"

"And risk someone finding it? No, it must be disposed of in a furnace." He put it in one of his pockets.

Link shook his head but said nothing more on the matter, concentrating on keeping up with Rial. The man had not worn any plate armour on this mission, but was still covered in mail and heavy leathers, and was showing no signs of slowing down; his sword bared and at the ready for the second Rehm showed up ahead of them. It was strange to see such a rage on the otherwise calm man. He recognised the rage itself, however. It was the same Sheik himself had felt when he'd been certain he'd lost Link and Zelda and everyone else in the airship crash. He was suddenly very impressed that Rial had been able to calm him down.

A vein of pure, black crystal drew lines on the walls around them, and Sheik felt the presence of immense amounts of magical energies as they continued along the tunnel. The entire mountain felt saturated with it. Was this where all the ambient energies of Lumina went, rather than spreading everywhere?

"Sheik, Link, do you feel it?" Zelda's panting voice said behind them. "Magic! So much of it!"

"Why, though?" Link asked. "Why is it all gathering here?"

"We'll find out soon enough," Sheik said. He felt the entire front of his body tingling. "It's focusing at a point ahead of us!"

In a way, it felt like they were running through a funnel, with energy surging around and past them, towards the point ahead. Blinding blue light flashed as the air tingled Sheik's skin. Rial disappeared from view as the light grew brighter.

Then the air was suddenly far less oppressive, and the light died, revealing that they were standing in a large room of hewn rock with an uneven floor. At the far wall, Rehm and a woman Sheik could only guess was Countess Marlotta were standing. Behind them, a massive door of white stone was glowing. The symbol of the Triforce burned with fierce blue fire at its centre.

**"Rehm!"**

All of Rial's anger was focused into the scream, and the pair in front of the door jerked their heads to look at them.

"Ah, general," Rehm said amiably, nodding to him. "I had thought it would take you longer to get over the death of the King you fought so hard to rescue. Perhaps I was wrong about your dedication?"

"I have all the time in the world to mourn," Rial said, breathing heavily, pointing his sword at them. "Your executions, however, cannot come soon enough!"

Sheik was impressed with the self-control Rial was exhibiting. Far greater than his, the general was focusing it all into his sense of duty. Even now he wanted to bring Rehm to justice (albeit a rather fatal brand of it) rather than outright killing them. Or perhaps that was what he considered it at the moment.

"Executions?" Rehm asked, shaking his head, as if he had just been told a mildly amusing anecdote. "On what grounds?"

"Regicide," Rial hissed.

Rehm chuckled at that, and Marlotta joined in, though she looked quite nervous.

"What is this?" he heard Zelda mutter quietly. He turned and saw that she was studying the door behind Rehm with utmost fascination. "Rauru was right..."

"Regicide?" Rehm asked. "Fair enough, it is a grave crime and requires swift justice...which I delivered just now, in fact."

"What?!"

"Who do you think ordered King Robar's poisoning, general? Who do you think authorised an assassin to be hired? Certainly, I may have _suggested_ it to be a mercy to the late King, but it was Victor himself who decided that his father had to die for the good of the kingdom." Rehm fiddled with the penknife in his hand, and Sheik readied himself just in case the man proved to be good at throwing. "And, really, it was."

"That's a lie! Victor would never do that!"

"Deny it all you want, the truth will not change in the face of your unwillingness to believe it," Rehm said, shrugging. "Marlotta and Agon was there as well when we hired the assassin." He turned to the countess. "Is that not right, my dear?"

"Yes," Marlotta said, her voice slightly shaky. Sheik could spot a coward from miles away, and this countess certainly was one. "He ordered it, general. Agon would also confirm it, but...well, you put his head on a spike, did you not?"

"Lies!" Rial shouted again, though his confidence was wavering.

Rehm faked a yawn. "I grow weary of your repetitive exclamations, General Vortan," he said. He looked at the rest of the group. "I see you've retained your followers as well. Good to see you all again. Tell me, have you—"

Rial had grown tired of talking, it seemed, and snarled. He rushed towards Rehm, sword held high and aiming to cleave the man in half. Sheik and the others were on his heels. The general got within ten feet of the councillor, at which point a look of weariness crossed Rehm's features, and he raised both hands towards them. Sheik felt the pulse of energy, and tried to shout a warning, but his voice was drowned out by the sharp tone that suddenly filled the room as a translucent wall suddenly appeared between them and Rehm. Rial saw it too late and slammed into it with a grunt, and then a shout as he was thrown backwards, barrelling into Link and Tira.

Sheik slid to a halt, nearly losing his balance at a particularly rough bit of the floor. He stepped up to the wall and held a hand out. He didn't even need to touch it to feel the potent magic involved in erecting it. He supposed they were lucky it wasn't the same kind of barrier Ganondorf had used in Hyrule—Rial would have been reduced to dust by now, just like Nuviro.

"You...you know magic?" Zelda asked, shocked. "I couldn't feel it at all!"

"When one lives as long as I have, my dear, you learn quite a few tricks," Rehm said from behind the barrier, his voice clear and crisp despite the many layers of protective magic between them. He looked exhausted. It was taking a heavy toll on him, even now. "Now, you kids behave while Marlotta and I complete what we came here to do."

Even the countess looked shocked that her co-conspirator was able to do something like this. "Rehm, when did...how..."

"For as long as I can remember," Rehm explained quickly, standing in front of her. "Though I have not used it for years...until now, when it became necessary."

"Rehm, please stop!" Zelda shouted. "You have no idea what you will unleash upon the world!"

"I believe I have quite a good idea of it, actually," Rehm said with another shrug. "Given how long I have worked to make this possible, do you not think I have given much thought to the consequences? I have, in fact, and I find them acceptable." He let his eyes roam over them, a slight smirk on his face. His gaze paused slightly on Sheik, his eyes widening a fraction, as if he was recognising him in a different way...and then it was gone.

Rial, Link and Tira had picked themselves up from the floor by now, and the general seemed now worse for wear, if not a bit shaky. He had clearly not expected to suddenly slam into a nearly invisible wall.

"You bastard," Rial said. " _This_ is what you wanted?!"

The councillor gave him a look of utter disdain. "What, did you believe I wanted Lumina? Surely you do not think in such simple terms?" He shook his head again. "All I wanted was what lies within this chamber," he said and pointed at the door. "And nothing will stop me now. Marlotta, your hand, please."

"Y-yes," she said and held out her palm once again.

"Do you give blood of your own free will, to unchain what has been chained?" Rehm announced loudly as he held the knife to her palm.

"I do," she replied.

"Very well," he said, and cut her. Marlotta's face scrunched up at the pain, but held her silence as Rehm cut her several times to let the blood flow from her hand properly. "Our sacrifice," he announced and made her put her palm against the white door, smearing her blood over it. The blue fire intensified, and those in the room who could feel magic felt slightly dizzy. "It accepts it! It accepts your blood!" Rehm exclaimed, a huge smile on his face.

"We...we have done it?!" Marlotta asked. "We have opened it?!" Her face hit the stone before she realised what was happening, the penknife at her throat and Rehm looming behind her. "What are you doing?!" she shrieked.

"Your blood will open the door, my dear," he said. "But I need more of it than that."

He said nothing else, and drew the knife across her throat, opening it from ear to ear. The blood didn't so much spray as it was drawn from the wound, splashing against the white stone and disappearing, as if the door was drinking it. Rehm let go of Marlotta's twitching body, and it was as if she had been glued to the door, remaining upright as it sucked her dry.

Rehm gave her a sad look before crossing his arms and observing the process with an interest not unlike an academic's. The continued strain of keeping the wall up was draining him quickly, however, and Sheik prayed that he wouldn't last long enough for the door to open it. Whatever lay behind there, Enlightened One or not, could not be unleashed!

The feast ended, and Marlotta's body crumpled to the floor, pale and utterly devoid of her life's fluid, a look of shock and betrayal frozen on her face.

"Thank you, my dear," Rehm said quietly, exhausted.

 _Just five more seconds,_ Sheik thought, his weapons ready. He would cut down Rehm and then do whatever was necessary to stop the opening of that door. The wall would fall and—

A loud cracking sound reverberated around the room as the door began to move downwards, disappearing into the floor, the sound of rock grinding against rock filling their ears. Behind it, there was utter darkness. The shadows within seemed to move. Then, a pinpoint of light appeared at the centre of the opening, growing larger and larger until the entire doorway was a kaleidoscope of colours and shapes, twisting and moving and never staying the same. And from it flowed power on a scale Sheik could never have imagined, filling the room until he was sure he would choke on it. Not even Ganondorf at his strongest had radiated power like this.

All sound apart from everyone's breathing faded—not even Rehm's footsteps could be heard as he moved to stand in front of the terrible chaos within the doorway.

"At last," he whispered, his voice amplified to the volume of a shout. Relief, exhaustion and joy coloured his words, and when he turned to regard the group he had tears in his eyes. "So many years of work, so many years of planning and anguish...and the moment is finally here."

"Rehm, I am begging you," Zelda said, her eyes wide and terrified. "As the Seventh Sage of the Goddesses, I beg of you, do not awaken the Enlightened One! You will bring ruin upon us all!"

Rehm looked at her with a serious expression for several seconds, after which a smile began to bloom, growing wider as he chuckled. It soon turned into a proper laugh, loud and terrible—and Sheik knew that they had lost. Just not in which way.

"Awaken the Enlightened One," Rehm said slowly. "A difficult feat, as he was never asleep in the first place." he laughed again. "Have you not figured it out yet, Hylian?" he asked. "I _am_ the Enlightened One!" He turned to the door. "What lies within here is simply what has always been mine by right!"

With no other words, he stepped inside the portal, his form disappearing from view.

In the terrible silence that followed, four pairs of eyes turned on the princess, who was gaping at the prison.

"What...what did all that mean?" Rial asked. "How can he be the Enlightened One?!"

"I don't understand," Zelda said, looking at them. "The Sages, they...they told me he was imprisoned here, that he could never be let out or he would finish the job he started, they..." She gasped. "Did they lie to me?!"

"Maybe they consider the Enlightened One and Rehm to be different people," Link suggested, looking visibly shaken. He too had felt the terrifying rush of power from the prison. "Or...maybe he escaped, but not without losing everything, or..."

"When would that have occurred?" Sheik asked. "And without the Sages knowing? Or the Goddesses, for that matter?" He wanted answers, and he wanted them now. Not to satisfy his curiosity, for once, but to still the horrible fear that was filling him—and to kill the idea that they had failed to stop a man powerful enough to challenge gods from regaining his strength.

Tira was kneeling on the floor, looking quite overwhelmed. "If this...Enlightened One was strong enough to nearly defeat the Goddesses," she said slowly, "why have they not interfered yet? Why are they not stopping him?"

Any further words were swallowed up by a wave of silence Sheik felt coming from the door. It killed any sound, and drew their attention to the doorway. A shape was emerging from it. Rehm.

The silence ended, and the light and colours faded until nothing but an empty, darkened chamber lay beyond the door. Rehm looked unchanged, though even more exhausted now. He fell to his knees, and the magical barrier with him. As one, the group attacked, knowing this was the last chance they would have. Sheik was the fastest, and he was a sword's length from cutting Rehm's throat open like he had Marlotta's when the old man's eyes suddenly opened—and instead of the old, milky and tired eyes he had seen before, there were now golden, watchful and predatory orbs. Rehm made a gesture, and Sheik and the other simply froze in place, as if time had stopped.

He was able to move his eyes and think, but every other muscle in his body refused to move—like they were stone.

"Ah, that was close," Rehm said, forcing himself to one knee and surveying his attackers _._ "Half a second more, and you would've taken my head, Master Sheikah." He reached out and touched Sheik's cheek gingerly. "Though...I feel that there is more than just you in there. I wonder...could it be...?"

He shook his head, stood and stepped away from his attackers, putting some distance between them and looked at his hands.

"Look at these...so old, so frail..." His voice sounded strange, like there were several of them stacked upon each other. "I have been an old man for so long. I think...it is time to let old Rehm die, don't you?" he asked no one in particular.

He let out a sigh, and features that had been Councillor Rehm began to melt away, distorting and changing and twisting. Young, bronzed, nearly golden skin replaced the wrinkled and mottled flesh of an old man. The thin, grey strands that had been combed to cover Rehm's head fell away, and in their place grew thick, almost silvery strands, some of which arranged themselves into elaborate braids, that hung down to his shoulders. The facial hair disappeared, leaving a young, delicate and effeminate face with beautiful markings that looked like tattoos underneath the eyes. His body was shrinking, the corpulent form of a bureaucrat disappearing to give way to a slim, athletic body. The bones changed with it, loud cracks accompanying the transformation. The thick robes of state fell away, leaving him naked.

They stared in shock at the kneeling Rehm, who now looked nothing like the old man who had been terrorising Lumina for the past year. Once again his eyes opened, and he regarded them with those predatory eyes. Whenever they landed on Sheik, he felt like he was being undressed until there was nothing left for Rehm to stare at but his soul...however tainted it now was. His heart skipped a beat. There was no animosity in those eyes any longer, no anger, no fear, no...nothing. It was like Rehm knew intimately that they no longer posed any threat to him.

It was demonstrated when whatever spell he had put upon them was suddenly released, and Sheik found himself barrelling head over heels towards the Enlightened One, who caught him gently in his arms. Sheik felt his fingers lock around his swords, refusing to move or let go, leaving him unable to attack. The others found themselves tripping as well. Zelda and Link lost their balance completely and fell, while Rial and Tira kept themselves upright.

"Do not move," Rehm said, his voice smooth and silky and...comforting, almost. "Or I shall be forced to kill him."

Sheik couldn't move. It was different from the spell, however, where his muscles had simply turned to stone. Now they just seemed to have...melted, almost.

When no one made a move, realising that the threat was most certainly real, Rehm smiled. It was dazzling, rows of pearly white teeth shining in the light that was emanating from his body. He helped Sheik to his feet and got him standing properly, keeping a hand firmly on his shoulder. Keeping him in place.

"Your heart is damaged, little one," he whispered into Sheik's ear. "And yet, it beats for two. You are not long for this world, at this rate. But then, you have already died once, haven't you?"

Sheik's breath caught in his throat. He could feel Speil's essence within him? And knew what he had been through?

"I know everything about you just from looking at you, Sheik of the Sheikah," Rehm said, louder this time. "I know everything about all of you."

"Let him go!" Link said, hefting his weapons. "Right now!"

"And the Hero of Time...The Goddesses' lapdog if there ever was one," Rehm continued. "Such a sad story, yours is. A wonder you're alive at all." His gaze slid over Tira and Rial, but he did not comment on them, as if they didn't matter at all, and eventually landed on Zelda. And suddenly there was a slight tremble to his voice, and Sheik could _feel_ his anger at her presence. "And the Sage, of course...Princess Zelda of Hyrule. Chosen kingdom of the Goddesses...hah...and a cripple, to boot."

Zelda swallowed heavily, her grip on her cane tightening. To Sheik, it felt like his mind was trying to come to some terrible realisation, but it simply wasn't doing it fast enough.

"You're...you're not just a warlock," the princess said slowly. "You're...something else."

"That would be an adequate description," Rehm agreed.

"Rehm, what..."

"My name is not Rehm," he said firmly, the room shaking slightly from the force of his anger. "It is a disgusting, vile identity I was forced to assume for the past century. Never mention that name to me again!"

"Then...what is your name?" she asked.

"Feror." There was a pause, as if he was waiting for a reaction, shocked or otherwise. When none was forthcoming, he sighed. "I suppose the Sages have worked hard to erase my name from history. They left me only my mortal guise with which to identify myself." He made Sheik turn around and looked him in the eyes. "What do you see when you look upon me, I wonder," he said slowly. "And that other being...who is it?" His eyes widened, and he suddenly pushed Sheik backwards.

His back hit the floor with a thud, and he felt disoriented. Strong hands helped him up, and Link's face was suddenly in front of him, looking worried.

"Are you okay?" the Hero asked.

"He will be fine," Feror said, crossing his arms. "He was simply awestruck, I believe. It is no surprise—it is not every day a mortal comes across a being such as I." He looked down, as if noticing his nudity for the first time. "Oh, dear...this is not acceptable." As he spoke, wisps of light began to surround him, changing and morphing until his body was clad in a short, nearly translucent tunic that accentuated his body in strategic ways.

"I'm fine," Sheik murmured. What was happening? Who was this man? _What_ was he?

"I am a being beyond your comprehension," Feror said, as if reading Sheik's mind. "I am everything you are not." He shook his head, chuckling. "But I am wasting time on impressing you. For a thousand years, I have awaited this moment." He held out a hand, and the room around them seemed to tear apart. Blinding light issued from the cracks in the stone, and the mighty mountain around them gave way to it, rock exploding and melting away.

The group huddled together as stones and debris flew around them, their stomachs plunging as they felt like they were thrown about like ragdolls while remaining still in one place. Sheik heard Zelda gasp.

"It cannot be!" she exclaimed.

Then the twisting and turning stopped, and they slowly opened their eyes and looked around them. The walls, distant and high, flowed and shifted, as if underwater. Tall fountains of the purest blue water fell from the dark sky, creating beautiful shapes as it disappeared into the darkness below. The floor was stone, a thin path across the oceans that stretched out around them. It reminded Sheik of somewhere.

"The Sacred Realm," Zelda said quietly. "He opened the Sacred Realm!"

The sentence was punctuated with a thunderous slam behind them. Sheik turned and saw the distant shape of Feror standing in front of a massive gate of the same white stone as the prison, which hung in the air above the stone path. The likenesses of the Goddesses were carved upon its surface. Feror moved his arms, and something slammed into the door. It resisted the blow, barely even moving under the tremendous impact.

"What is this place? I don't understand..." Rial looked utterly lost.

"It is the Sacred Realm, where the Goddesses reside," Tira explained. "But this place is supposed to be sealed to mortals."

"There is no time to explain, general," Zelda said, already moving towards the distant form of Feror. "He must be stopped."

"Open up!" Feror roared, attacking the door again and again. "Din, Farore, Nayru! Open the door! I have returned!" His words echoed in the Sacred Realm, disappearing into the infinity that stretched from all around them. The Realm itself felt his presence and shook, creating rings in the water for every time he attacked the door. It began to crack.

As they ran towards the Enlightened One, Sheik noticed that platforms were appearing in the water around the path where Feror stood. Each one bore the symbol of a temple. It made him smirk slightly beneath his cowl. They weren't alone.

Link attacked first. He used his bow and fired an arrow directly at Feror's back. Sheik threw a pair of daggers and drew his blades. Zelda was fighting through the pain and had drawn her real sword, tucking the cane into her belt. Tira and Rial held up the rear, neither of them sure of what to do. Truth be told, neither did Sheik, and he couldn't imagine Zelda or Link knowing much either. They had never imagined this scenario.

The arrow never struck. Feror turned around with the speed of lightning and grabbed the flimsy thing out of the air. He sidestepped out of the daggers' way, and they struck the gate pathetically and bounced off it. Rial bellowed a war cry, and the others found themselves joining in as they closed in on Feror, who regarded them with bored disinterest. Once they were within fifteen feet of him, he held out a hand—and they froze. It was the same spell that had stopped them in the sanctum. Muscles refused to cooperate and bodies remained still.

"Hmph, I did not expect you to follow me through the portal," he said, mildly amused. "And I certainly did not expect you to be stupid enough to try and attack me like that. Do you not realise what I am? What I am capable of?" He shook his head. "Mortals, you are all the same. Oh well, I suppose I need some witnesses to my final triumph!" He turned his attention back to the gate and began attacking it anew, throwing massive fireballs and bursts of pure kinetic energy at it. Slowly, the gate began to show cracks, and the carved Goddesses were falling apart.

**"Stop!"**

The voice, sounding like it consisted of many, bellowed even louder than Feror's, and it was so powerful that it cancelled whatever was holding the group still. Shapes were appearing on the platforms—familiar shapes. Sheik felt his heart give a leap when he recognised the six Sages as they fully materialised, their faces grim. Rauru, Saria, Darunia, Ruto, Impa, Nabooru... He was especially happy to see his aunt again, but she did not spare him a glance, her attention focused on Feror.

They stepped onto the path, surrounding Feror. The group hurried closer, but Zelda stopped them a distance away. Goddesses knew what would happen next.

Feror looked at them all, studying their faces.

"The Sages," he said simply. "I expected your interference sooner. Did my barrier pose any problems?"

"Feror," Rauru said, stepping forward. "In the name of the Goddesses, I command you to stop this madness."

"You and I both know I have come too far to stop now, old man," Feror said calmly, though his voice was filled with utter loathing. They knew each other, definitely. "I will give you one chance, and one chance only, to get out of my way."

Rauru did the opposite, and deliberately stepped in front of Feror, his wizened face set in a mask of grim determination. The other Sages tightened their circle around the Enlightened One. The air tingled with electricity.

Feror sighed. "I had hoped you would see reason, Rauru. You and I are not enemies."

"You are the enemy of all that is good in the world," Rauru replied. "What you seek behind this gate will not satisfy you."

"What I seek, old man, is vengeance," Feror hissed. "For a thousand years they condemned me to walk the mortal plane, growing old and dying and repeating the process again and again! A thousand years! All because I stood up for humanity when they tried to destroy it! I will have my revenge and _you will not stop me_!" He sounded so much like a child at that moment, it struck Sheik.

"I will," Rauru said. "Sages!"

All at once, the Sages unleashed their powers, creating a shimmering cage that surrounded Feror, trapping him inside. Zelda stepped forward and added her own essence to the cage, though she looked unsure. They all were. Feror looked enraged at being imprisoned, but did not attempt to break out. Instead, he paced around the small space; regarding each Sage with that same predatory look he had given Sheik. He was just...waiting.

"Can you hold it?" Rauru asked the others, who nodded. He released himself from the spell and appeared in front of Sheik and the others. "Princess," he said, bowing. "We meet again."

"I was too late," Zelda said, bowing her head. "I could not stop him."

"I fear no one could, at that stage," Rauru said, looking back at Feror in his cage. "He has regained everything that was taken from him. We will not be able to hold him forever." He looked troubled. "I fear this might be the end."

"What _is_ he, Rauru?" Zelda asked. "You said he was a powerful warlock, but this is...this is _unreal_."

"I apologise, Princess," he said. It looked as if all his years were finally catching up with him. "I have lied to you. I was sworn to keep Feror's existence a secret, but now I must break the oath I took upon his defeat so many years ago. Goddesses have mercy on my soul."

"Rauru, _what is he_?" Zelda repeated.

The Sage of Light turned to regard Feror for a second before turning back to them, his face grave, and said, "He is a god."

* * *

**Soul Remnants**

**Chapter 89**

* * *

Only the sounds of the rushing water from the waterfalls and the gentle, undulating energies of the Sages' cage could be heard as they stared at Rauru. They could scarcely believe the series of events that had led them to be here, much less what the old man had just said. It was preposterous, blasphemous and...just impossible.

"A god?" Zelda finally said, her jaw hanging open along with those of Tira, Sheik and Link. Rial was still in the disbelieving haze, and as such had probably barely registered what the Sage of Light had said. Or maybe he did, and decided to just go along with it because he didn't know what else to do. "That's..." The princess trailed off, feeling like she was standing on very shaky ground, both theologically and metaphysically.

"A quite poor example of a god, admittedly, but a god nonetheless," Rauru said, looking them all in the eye in turn. "It is a lot to take in, I realise, but I fear this will be my only chance to properly explain."

"Oh, do tell them, Rauru," Feror said from within his cage, his voice warbling as it passed through the shield. "It is such a fun story!"

The Sage threw a glare in Feror's direction, his lips tight. "A thousand years as a mortal has done little to improve your behaviour, I see." He ignored the supposed god and focused on the group. "Truth be told, I knew he was going to be a mistake from the first moment the sisters voiced their desire for a brother."

"A brother?" Sheik said. "Are you saying that he is _related_ to the Goddesses?" This was getting worse and worse, in his mind.

Rauru nodded. "I daresay you will not find a being more related to them," he said. "He is everything they are. That was how they made him."

"They made him?" Link asked. "How?"

"They are the Goddesses," Rauru said simply. "The 'how' was never an issue. They made the decision, and soon after Feror came into being."

"But why?" Zelda asked. "They just _wanted_ a brother? I don't understand..."

"It is not for us _to_ understand," Rauru replied. "I fear that knowledge is for only for them to possess. As for why...well, I am certain there were a multitude of reasons for them to desire a brother. Chief of all, however, was to stop the arguments."

"The arguments?" Zelda said. She grimaced and grasped at her thigh with her fingers. Tira sprang into action immediately, ever mindful of her princess' pain, and helped her sit down on the stone path. "I apologise, Rauru, but I—"

"Your injury is nothing to apologise for," Rehm said. He too sat on the floor, and was soon accompanied by the others. It had been a long day, and it was doing everyone's feet a spot of good to have a rest. "And, yes, arguments. May the sisters forgive me for saying this, but the Goddesses are fickle beings, prone to jealousy, anger and mistrust, just like the mortals they made. The more time they spend around each other, the more these feelings grow. After creating our world and giving it life, the sisters spent much of their time disagreeing on how to govern it. Sometimes, they even grew violent, and the effects were felt everywhere. Eventually, it began to affect their creation to the point of destruction, and they realised that if they continued along this path, they might one day cause irreparable damage."

"You were there to witness this?" Sheik asked. "How old are you, truly?"

The Sage fixed him with a stare that sent shivers down his spine.

"Far older than you can imagine, child," he said kindly. The shivers did not stop, even as Rauru looked back at Zelda. It was not his words—they were innocent enough. But his eyes...for a moment, Sheik had thought he could catch a glimpse of the ages Rauru had seen come and go, ever watchful. How could someone cope with such an existence? When the man called Sheik a child, it truly meant just that.

"Are you okay?" Sheik heard Link whisper beside him, and he saw that the Hero was trying to coax Rial out of whatever waking dream his mind had entered. "Rial?"

"I never believed in any of this," the general whispered, barely loud enough for Sheik to hear. "And now I'm surrounded by gods and goddesses and sages and who knows what else." He looked up. "I thought I knew the world...and its size...but now I feel like an ant in a world of giants."

"Do not despair, Rial Vortan," Rauru told him. "You are not alone in feeling like this."

"How can you possibly say that?" Rial said, sounding angry. He must have felt so out of place, here, Sheik knew. "How would you know what I feel?"

"How do you think _I_ felt when I was first confronted with the truth of things?" Rauru said, smiling. "I say, the day the Goddesses appeared before me and appointed me as the Sage of Light and their hand on the mortal plane, I wondered if I would ever truly understand it all. And far too many years than I'd care to admit later, I still do not fully grasp it."

Zelda hissed under her breath. She was impatient and wanted to know more, but was concerned about Rial as well. The conflict of interest was annoying her greatly. "Why was I never informed of all this?" she finally asked when she could no longer hold back. "Do all the Sages but myself know this?"

Rauru looked back at his fellow Sages. "They know most of it," he admitted. "Not everything. Some knowledge should remain buried."

"What happened?" Link asked.

Rauru sighed. "The Goddesses decided that in order to ensure the world could not be harmed by their bickering, a fourth divine being was required. One that could act as an arbitrator and a mediator to finally settle age-old disagreements between the three. This being would be neutral, taking no sides. It would be the one thing the sisters had in common, that they could all agree with. They debated the matter for ages—and they decided that they wanted another sibling. Not another sister, but a little brother. Feror was born from the Goddesses' wishes, desires and power."

As one, the group looked at the god inside the cage. Feror had taken to pacing around inside the enclosure, studying the Sages closely with his golden eyes, one by one, giving them wicked smiles.

"In the end, I suppose it was the pooling of their essences that made him turn out the way he did," Rauru said, shaking his head sadly. "His very insides must churn with conflict at every waking moment."

"All I wanted was to be considered an equal," Feror said calmly, regarding Rauru with a look of despise. "Was that truly too much to ask?"

"They gave you everything you asked for, but it was never enough," Rauru replied. "And when you created that abomination—"

"You are not worthy to speak of him!" Feror roared. The shield wavered from the force of his voice. "It is the purpose of a god to create, and when I was denied that purpose—"

"You were not ready," Rauru interrupted, his voice level and steady. "And it reflected in your work."

Feror glowered, but held his tongue.

Rauru sighed, something he seemed to be doing a lot. Perhaps he was truly feeling his age now? "But he has a point...if the sisters had indulged him earlier, and not forbidden him for so long, perhaps all this could have been avoided."

"What do you mean?" Zelda said.

"If I were to explain every event that led to Feror's downfall, I fear we would sit here until the end of time...which might be a lot closer than I wish to imagine. With your permission, I would show it you, instead." He looked at them, then, waiting for consent. Slowly, they nodded, unsure of what would happen next. Even Rial nodded. The general seemed far more awake now that he was slowly catching up to what was happening. "Close your eyes, then, and see."

The statement seemed like an oxymoron, but Sheik let his eyes slide shut anyway. For a moment, nothing happened, and he wondered if Rauru was pulling a joke on them, but then a pinpoint of white appeared in the darkness, growing larger and larger until all had been dark was suddenly bathed in light—and he found himself floating in a void, seeing with closed eyes. Shapes began to take form, wavering and dissipating, reappearing again and again. He gasped when he realised what he was seeing.

_Three sisters, golden-skinned, silently arguing with each other. Din, the fiery-haired Goddess of power. Nayru, the Goddess of wisdom, her hair the colour of the oceans. Farore, Goddess of courage, the colour of life itself adorning her tresses. Beautiful, but fierce, all of them._

_The world burning, drowning, dying..._

_The three coming together, joining hands and speaking silent, unheard words._

_Feror as a child, standing between them, smiling and laughing as they embraced him in turn._

_Feror growing, settling disputes between his sisters, always weighing his decisions carefully._

_Feror, the young man as he appeared now, watching his sisters create and weave life, admiring them. The three shaking their heads no, tears in his eyes._

_Feror, young and proud, creating life of his own. A dark and shapeless being, confused and angry—incomplete—escaping Feror's control. The sisters easily overpowering it and sealing it away. The sisters yelling at Feror. Feror yelling back. The sisters relenting. Shaping the world, a familiar land surrounded by mountains. Feror creating more life, carefully guided by his sisters..._

The images faded away, and Sheik found that he was breathing hard as he opened his eyes.

"He...created the humans," Tira said slowly.

"Yes," Rauru said. "Like the sisters had their races like the Gerudo, the Kokiri, The Zora, the Hylians...Feror had his Humans. After creating an abomination in secret, the Goddesses knew that they could never stop their little brother from trying to be everything they were, as was his right, and so taught him the secrets of life, known only to them, guiding him through the process."

"My creations were perfect," Feror said from within his cage. "All of them, even my first."

Rauru ignored him. "And for a time, harmony ruled. Contrary to what the sisters had believed, the humans thrived, though they were not permitted to leave their lands, now known as Lumina. That was the one condition they gave him."

"They were afraid that the life I weaved was better than theirs," Feror said. "And it was—for I gave them what my sisters refused to give theirs."

Rauru closed his eyes, eyebrows furrowing. "Understand, princess, that this was long before the sisters became the Goddesses you know them as. They were young, then, and less...empathic, if you will."

"What did he give us?" Rial asked, staring at the being in the cage. The god— _his_ god—who had created his kind.

Feror grinned. "Free will." He laughed at the wide eyes of the group, a melodious sound twisted by the energies of the cage. "My sisters very much believed in tight control, and so did not permit the peoples they created to have a will of their own. Every waking moment was dedicated to worshipping them, following the orders of the priests and priestesses...a glorious age for the theocrats. Was it not, Rauru?" He fixed the Sage with a piercing stare, his golden orbs flashing with inner fire. "You were at the very top of the caste in Hyrule."

"A time I would much rather forget," the Sage said. "The position ill-suited me, and when the Goddesses bade me take my place here—"

"Not that you did not take your pleasures before becoming disillusioned," Feror interrupted. "I remember you, strutting about in your golden vestments, your every word obeyed and celebrated as the words of my sisters. You enjoyed it, old man." The god chuckled. "I did not want sycophants who worshipped me because I could destroy them in an instant. I wanted them to love me."

"What happened next?" Sheik asked. His head ached. There was so much to take in, and his entire view of the Goddesses and what he had been taught as a child had been shattered. Was any of it ever true? The mere act of looking at Feror was unpleasant now...and the idea of worshipping him even more so.

"What the sisters feared from the very beginning," Rauru said. He did not wait for permission this time. Sheik blinked, and he was back in the void.

_The future Lumina growing in power. Humanity expanding, sending envoys to every corner of the world. The Goddesses watching with worry, scolding Feror for not stopping them, their little brother staunchly defending his creations and refusing to destroy those who crossed the borders._

_Humans mingling with the Gerudo, Zora, Goron and Hylian races. Great gatherings. Effigies burning._

They were back in the Sacred Realm.

"The human expansion brought with it an unintended effect," Rauru said. "Free will was a foreign concept to the other races, but it gained a foothold...and it spread among them, faster than the Goddesses could crack down on it. Realising they had been little more than slaves to the Goddesses, the now freely thinking races rebelled. A full-scale revolt erupted all over the world, and the Goddesses found that they could no longer control the populace with mere words spoken through the mouths of their mortal representatives, the Sages, many of whom had been slain in the revolt." He shuddered slightly. "I was one of the few who were spared, if only for a time.

"The sisters did not allow their love for Feror to blind them this time. Nayru and Farore, who had no taste for slaughter, but recognising the need to cull the world, allowed Din to unleash disasters and calamities upon the earth. Fire consumed entire cities, the earth opened to swallow others. Wherever she spotted open rebellion, she sent forth the destructive forces of nature, all of them heralded by their loyal Sages. Those who once again knelt and prayed for the sisters' forgiveness were spared, while those who resisted were wiped out. Free will proved to be impossible to stamp out once it had become ingrained in the other races, but it did not take long until the sisters were once again worshipped throughout the lands, and the calamities stopped."

Rauru stood up and walked to the cage. "Feror was punished afterwards, along with his humans. He himself was cast out of the Sacred Realm, forced to walk the earth in disguise, while the Goddesses turned a blind eye to the suffering of the people of the land that would become Lumina. Crops rotted, livestock died. Famine and disease ruled. Any human who dared set foot outside their homeland perished, either by way of the sword of the other peoples or by direct, divine intervention. Never again would they allow those who had inadvertently started the revolt mingle with the other races."

"And they made me watch," Feror said bitterly, sinking to his knees within the cage. "My sisters knew how much I loved my humans, and I was forced to watch them wither and die, all because I gave them a gift. They denied me my home, and banished me to the mortal plane. They would not let me return until I had truly learned from my mistakes and would admit that they truly knew best. I refused."

"Enough," Rauru told him, looking at his fellow Sages. The strength of the cage seemed to increase, and whatever Feror said next was drowned in the humming, his words swallowed. "The Goddesses knew the way they had governed the world before would not work any longer—not without wiping out all sentient life and starting over. Instead, they somewhat reluctantly followed their brother's example, replacing fear with love. The Sages as a ruling class was diminished, reduced to no more than six at a time with associated temples. As a sign of good faith, a mortal was appointed as the Seventh Sage, our leader. We would be the Goddesses' voice, but not their hands. The Hylians, the Goddesses' pride and joy, were chosen for this honour. Soon, the order that still stands today emerged, and the age of prosperity truly began." He paused. "But not for humanity. They were still made to suffer."

Sheik's head was ready to explode at this point. All this...all of it had been covered up. These were the things he had been fighting for in the grand scheme of things? He hated to admit it, but he suddenly found himself sympathising with Feror. He did not look at the god, however. A strange itch at the back of his mind made itself known every time he did, and he did not care for it.

Zelda was having similar struggles, it seemed. The princess was shaking her head slowly. "How can this be? All my life I have...the Goddesses...they..."

Rauru smiled at her. "The stories are always much better than reality, I'm afraid. However, the troubles with Feror did change the sisters in the end, and definitely for the better. Feror himself changed as well, but for the worse. The continued punishment of humanity wore at him, and in the end he could no longer take it. He still had most of his powers, and..." He paused again. "Well, you know the story. He assumed the guise of a powerful warlock, gave himself the title of the Enlightened One, for he was the only man on earth who knew the entire truth, and rallied the humans. He declared war upon his sisters and the other races, and the world was soon engulfed in the fires of war once again. And he nearly won.

"The sisters still loved their brother very much, and hesitated to wield their full power against him. It nearly cost them everything. Thousands were put to the sword. Hyrule burned. And in the future Lumina, Feror built his fortress, growing more and more powerful. In the end, however, they were forced to take action, and not a moment too soon. They overpowered Feror's armies and crushed them. Feror himself was wrenched from his seat of power and taken to the mines in the mountain that would come to be known as Prison's Peak. There, they fought. Even with the three of them together, the sisters struggled to defeat their brother. They had made him too powerful, they knew, had given him too much of themselves. They managed to overpower him, in the end, but not without suffering grievous wounds.

"And even then they could not bring themselves to kill him. He was family, and their love was stronger than their hate. Instead, they stripped him of his divinity, took his powers from him and sealed them within the mountain itself. He was condemned to walk the earth as a mortal man. He would live, and die, and then come back, doomed to repeat the cycle until they saw fit to end it. It was kindness and cruelty, combined."

The ancient Hylian glanced at the massive gate Feror had been trying to open. "Then they retreated behind that gate, intending to heal from the wounds they sustained in the battle. They gave me the task to watch over the world until they returned, and ensure that nothing like this could happen ever again. A thousand years ago, this was. No longer being punished, humanity recovered, but they never forgot what they had done under the Enlightened One's rule, and magic would remain a taboo."

"And the Goddesses?" Zelda said weakly.

However terrible Sheik was feeling, he could not imagine how she was feeling. This went against everything she had ever been taught. He glanced at Link, worried about his reaction as well. The Hero of Time, chosen champion of the Goddesses, was trembling, but his face was entirely blank. Tira seemed upset but enraptured. Rial was...Rial was simply nodding, accepting it all for the truth it was. He had never put his faith in the stories Sheik and the others had been told as children, and must have had a much easier time coming to terms with it all. He kept throwing glares at Feror, however. Beneath it all, he was still the man who had murdered his King.

"They have not spoken to me since then," Rauru admitted. "I lost sight of Feror centuries ago. He simply...disappeared, one day. Truth be told, I hoped he had finally perished, but my fears were once again awakened when we spoke before you entered Lumina, princess." He slumped back to the floor, looking exhausted. "It has been a heavy burden to bear, for so long," he said. "I can only hope that today is not our last day."

"You've got him contained," Rial pointed out, standing up and walking towards the cage, looking curiously at the Sages surrounding it. "You are clearly powerful enough to stop him." He seemed to have sobered up slightly, now, and he was clearly itching to make Feror—or Rehm, Sheik still found it difficult to distinguish the two—pay for the murder of Victor.

"Not for long," Nabooru said. "Even now he is testing our strength, tearing at the shield. It is only a matter of time before he overpowers us."

"I am nearing _my_ limits," Darunia, the Goron said. "I must rest."

"As do I," Ruto, princess of the Zora, added.

The sentiment was echoed by Saria and Impa.

"Very well," Rauru said. "Stand back, everyone. I will sustain the shield."

"With what?" Saria asked.

"Thousands of years I have lived," Rauru said cryptically. "There are sources of power I can draw upon that is beyond your wildest dreams. Now, let go."

As one, the Sages relaxed, and while the shield wavered for a moment, it soon resumed its full strength. Whatever Rauru was using to power it now, it was clearly just as strong as the five of them combined. There was a moment of complete silence, save for the sound of rushing water. The Sages looked to each other and the mortals awkwardly. It had been almost two years since the three from Hyrule and the Sages had met together, and with the knowledge imparted upon them just now, it was difficult to go back to normal.

In the end, what it took to break that particular spell was Link and Saria embracing, the Hero kneeling down to hug his oldest friend tightly. The Sages smiled, and came forward, greeting the Hero in their own ways. Nabooru called him "kid" and punched his shoulder. Darunia boomed that he was happy to see his brother again, clapping Link's back until he nearly fell over. Impa nodded respectfully, but said nothing. Ruto kissed his cheek, an act that sent a small tingle of jealousy down Sheik's spine, which he quickly stamped out. She had been in love with him once, but he had not reciprocated those feelings, much to Sheik's relief. Zelda joined them, speaking to them easily, having met them just a few months before.

Sheik remained outside the group. He had never interacted much with the Sages, and he always felt like an outsider when he did. Which, in essence, he was. After all, he was nothing special. Zelda was the Seventh and leader of the Sages; Link was the Hero of Time. What was he? A simple bodyguard. In a way, he liked that. It gave him time to process everything he had just heard.

"You have changed, nephew," Impa's voice said quietly, his aunt suddenly standing in front of him, having wandered away from the group. "Do you have an explanation?"

That was all she had to say to him, after nearly two years apart? He fought down the anger that was already rising in his chest. He could not lose his temper in front of her. That would be the last straw for him. He looked at her. "Got hurt, lost a few fingers," he said, showing her the missing digits on his left hand. "As for this," he continued, indicating his ashen skin and hair, "The Shadow is responsible," he said. "You failed to remove all of it."

"Evidently," she replied. "And it has exerted even more influence over you?"

"It tried to take over," he said. "I absorbed it instead. It came with a certain change in my appearance. It was that, or die."

"Then you made the right decision."

They stared at each other. Their relationship had always been an awkward one. Sheik loved her for what she was, family, but it was always overridden by her function as his chief. He had a feeling she felt the same. She loved him, but had to put his function before all. He was surprised, then, when she suddenly drew him into a tight embrace, ignoring the blood that stained his tabard and his cuts and bruises. Slowly, he reacted, and put his arms around her as well, returning the hug. It felt...strange, but wonderful at the same time. Perhaps her time as a Sage had softened her somewhat.

They parted, and there was an awkward silence between them again. Sheik realised that now was as good a time as any to ask a question that had bothered him for the better part of the year. "Aunt," he said, looking up at her.

"Yes?" she said.

"I have met Kafei."

She stiffened slightly, but that was the only reaction of any kind. "Is that so? He is well?"

"As well as he could be, given the circumstances," he replied. "He was in Termina when the meteor struck. His face was burned."

"I see..."

She was clearly reluctant to ask anything else, so Sheik soldiered on. "He told me his side of the story of the night he left Hyrule. The night he nearly killed me."

"Nephew, this is not the time—"

"It is the only time, aunt," he interrupted her. Back when he was a child, it would have earned him a slap and gruelling hours of extra training, but now she simply remained quiet, unmoving. "He said you told him to leave, and to take me with him. That you arranged for the guards to be out of his way. Is this true?" When she said nothing for several never-ending seconds, he stepped forward, staring at her with narrowed eyes. "Is. This. True?"

"Yes," she finally admitted, not looking away. "I told him to leave, and that he should also take you." She placed a hand on his shoulder, clutching at it tightly. "I owed him as much...and you."

"What do you mean?" he asked. "Owed?"

She looked away, something he had never seen her do before. It almost shocked him; that was how alien the movement was to him. For once she let her body language speak for her, and it communicated an extreme discomfort.

"I killed his parents," she said, looking back at him, frowning. He hadn't expected that. "He was about a year old, when they attempted to escape from Hyrule. You had not yet been born. They didn't want the life of a Sheikah for him." She gazed at one of the distant waterfalls, her eyes slightly unfocused, her mind lost in the depths of her memories. "It was raining that night, late in the fall. We caught up to them at the border. As clan leader, it fell to me to...dispense justice." Her eyes snapped to him. "You know the punishment for desertion."

"Death," Sheik said.

"And I did my duty," she continued. "I let them die as warriors, let them die in combat. They were not strong enough. It was clean. I ordered them to be interned in the Shadow Temple, even though they were considered traitors. Your mother gave me such a lashing for not letting them go." She shook her head. "It was only recently that I had been appointed as leader, after my father's—your grandfather's—death, and I took my duties seriously. Too seriously, according to them."

"And Kafei?"

"I took responsibility, and raised him to the best of my ability along with you after your parents were..." She cleared her throat. "But their deaths haunted me, and I was reminded of what I had done every time I looked upon Kafei. The wound never healed, for it was reopened whenever he spoke, whenever a feature inherited from his parents surfaced. Stubborn like his father, fierce like his mother." She smiled thinly at that.

"As he grew older, and the friendship between the two of you blossomed, I found it more and more difficult to discipline him properly, and he grew unruly. In the end, when our numbers had been reduced to three, and in the light of his troubled relationship with the princess whom he was supposed to protect with his life, I could not take it anymore. I took him aside one day after training. I told him the truth, the whole of it. He was angry, as he should be. He attacked me, but I overpowered him and made him listen, made him understand. I told him that, if he wanted, I would allow him to leave. I would not pursue, I would not interfere. The only condition was that he had to take you along. I didn't want you—either of you—to end up like me."

The smile turned wry.

"I hadn't counted on your adherence to duty," she said, crossing her arms. "My mental training regimen worked better on your than it did on your cousin. You absolutely refused to go with him, and attempted to make him stay. I knew that your injury that night was accidental—he cared for you far too much to inflict such a wound deliberately. Zelda discovered the escape soon after, and I had no choice but to act my role once again, though that was all I did—act. Unfortunately, I did not dare to attempt what I had again after that. I had no choice but to train you to be like me...but I always hoped that you would turn out differently, which you did." She looked at Link, speaking with the Sages. "All because of your friendship with Zelda...and him.

"I never tried to find Kafei again after he escaped. All I know is that he crossed the border a week after he left Castle Town. I figured that wherever he ended up, he'd be better off than he would be in Hyrule. I heard the rumours, of course, that a mysterious, red-eyed young man had appeared in Termina and had been taken in by the Dotour family, but I never bothered to investigate. I knew he was happier there."

Sheik wasn't sure how to feel. He had been anticipating, even hoping, that what Kafei had told him had been true. But at the same time...once again he had been lied to for the better part of his life. It was difficult to forgive such a thing...but then, given the even grander lies that had been uncovered today, he figured Kafei's story was an incredibly minor one. Even so...was there anyone he could trust? He looked at Link and Zelda.

_Only you two, it seems..._

"So," Impa said, looking at him. "Now you know."

"Now I know," he agreed.

"I will not pretend that I do not care for your opinion, nephew. I apologise for lying to you for so long, and I will not expect you to forgive me."

"I forgive you," he said before she could add anything to that sentence. "I understand your reasons, and I will not judge you for them. Had I left with Kafei that night, my life would definitely have turned out differently." He looked at Link. "But I would not trade it for anything."

Impa looked slightly surprised at the easy forgiveness. She had surely been dreading this moment for years, but had clearly taken a situation like this into account. "I...you are far kinder than I deserve."

"We are family," Sheik told her. "Families argue and fight, but they always forgive in the end, do they not?"

"I suppose they do," she said, nodding. "How...how is he?"

"He was unable to shake off his roots completely," Sheik said. "After Termina, he was forced to become an assassin, but from what I understand of his work he tried to take only righteous contracts—and he gives a lot of his fees away. He has met a woman that is good for him—a Terminan Gerudo named Elenwe. Former pirate."

He told her about everything he had learned of his cousin's life, leaving out the assassination of King Robar though he had a feeling she knew, and despite the hardships he had suffered after leaving Hyrule, she seemed glad to learn that he was, in a slightly twisted way, happy.

"Maybe I can convince Zelda to stop hating him now the truth has been confirmed," he said idly. His aunt shook her head.

"I doubt it," she said. "She never liked him in the first place, and nearly killing you—even though it was by accident—has permanently placed him on her bad side. I'm quite certain he feels the same way."

"Maybe," he admitted. "She forbade me from seeing him, you know. I defied her orders."

His aunt laughed at that. It was a genuine laugh, and a sound he could not remember having heard ever before. It shocked nearly everyone in the vicinity. Even the Sages looked surprised. It did not last long, but Sheik was happy to have heard it.

"And what is so funny over here?" Zelda said, padding over to them. She looked pale, and the smile was clearly forced. The situation was tearing at her, and it was no wonder. This was clearly a major test of her faith. Tira looked troubled, but was taking it all in her stride.

"I am just catching up with my nephew, princess," Impa explained, smiling at her former charge. "And I take it this is your new protector?" she said, looking Tira up and down. "She looks capable," she noted with approval.

"More than capable," Zelda confirmed. "Tira, this is Impa of the Sheikah."

"It is an honour," Tira said, bowing her head. "I have heard many stories about you."

"Most of them good, I hope," Impa said, bowing her head as well. "Please take good care of the princess." She looked between the two, and Sheik knew she was analysing every bit of information she could glean from them. It was probably the distance that gave it away. "And not just in the carnal way, might I add."

Even at such a grave time they blushed, while aunt and nephew shared an amused look.

"How does everyone figure it out?" Zelda asked no one in particular, and she shot the two Sheikah a warning look as they both opened their mouths to tell her.

Any further conversation was broken by a loud boom. Every gaze in the room fell upon Feror's cage. The god was staring directly at Sheik now, his head cocked curiously to the side, and Sheik felt a stirring in the back of his head, a sort of itch that could not be scratched. Feror's body seemed to glow, and a spark leapt from his skin to connect with the wall of the cage. It flashed, and another boom echoed throughout the Sacred Realm. They felt the impact through their feet.

"I cannot...hold it much...longer," Rauru said, his voice strained. He was pale, and his face was covered in sweat.

No sooner had he said it, the cage walls wavered, and disappeared. The oldest Sage fell to his knees, wheezing with the effort. Feror sprang forward, knocking everyone between him and his target aside without even touching them. It was like the very air around him was a solid wall. Darunia and Link were thrown backwards into the water beside the path, yelling with surprise. Instinct taking over, Sheik and Impa immediately stood in front of Zelda to protect her, but the action was useless, for it was not the princess Feror was after.

It was like he didn't move at all. One second he was knocking the Sages aside, the next he was suddenly right in front of Sheik, seizing him by the shoulders and practically shoving their faces together, his golden eyes staring into Sheik's. The gaze was intense, and it felt like they were looking all the way into his soul. His body seized up, just like it had the first time he'd found himself face to face with the deity, and it refused to obey.

"Hm," Feror hummed. The itch in the back of Sheik's head grew worse. The god chuckled. "I knew it...how on earth did this happen to you?"

Sheik wasn't sure if Feror was asking him or someone else. He wouldn't be able to answer anyway. Feror's hands moved to cup his head, and there was a strange sensation, feeling like cool air water was flowing beneath his hair, seeping into his skin through the follicles, numbing his whole head and probing like fingers. Then his vision went white, and he screamed as agony erupted throughout his entire body. His skin felt like it was being burned, seared in a great oven. His bones were broken, healed and re-broken again and again. His hair was ripped out. His brains exploded in a gory mess, only to reform and explode all over again. Feror's hands shifted and pulled away from Sheik...and something came with them. Smoky, inky darkness was extracted from Sheik, who suddenly felt like he was being emptied of...something.

The last fragment of the darkness was removed; the pain suddenly went away, leaving only a slight tingling in every part of Sheik. He went limp, hitting the floor hard with a loud crack. He felt empty, like a big part of him had just been ripped from him. His vision was blurry and dark, and the only thing he could see above him were the vague shapes of Feror and the cloud of darkness, and a grey lock of his hair that had come loose from the ponytail. It might have been the disorientation from the pain, but it looked like it was...changing colour. It went from the dull grey that looked like Speil's, fluctuating between darkening and lightening until it was a very familiar shade of blond. _His_ blond!

Strong hands grabbed him under his arms and pulled him away. He looked up and saw the face of Tira, his rescuer.

His vision began to grow clear, and he managed to sit up with the help of Tira. Impa had pulled Zelda away from Feror and the darkness, and the other Sages were moving away from them as well.

A pair of red eyes had appeared within the roiling, black smoke, and Feror looked incredibly pleased with it. And there was no denying how similar the scene looked to the images Rauru had shown them of Feror's first attempt at making life. Sheik glanced down at his hands and saw that his skin had returned to its original colour, a very welcome sight indeed. Then his breath hitched as his mind finally arrived at the conclusion it had been trying to reach.

 _No...impossible..._ The coincidence was far too big and ridiculous for it to be true...and yet...

The darkness shifted and changed, growing more solid, assuming the shape of a humanoid. Arms and legs. Hands. Fingers. A sword and a shield appeared on the figure's back. Clothing formed. Tunic, leggings, boots. A hat. The face grew features, grey hair sprouted from beneath the hat. The changes ceased, and a dark mirror image of Link stood in the shadow's place.

Speil blinked, taking a few unsteady steps backwards, his eyes firmly locked on Feror. He pointed an accusing finger, mouth opening and closing as he struggled to form the words—too disorientated to make much sense of what had just happened. "Wh..." the Shadow said. Feror raised an eyebrow, a gentle smile on his face. "Who..." Speil managed to force out. He took a deep breath. "I know...you."

"Yes, you do," Feror said, nodding.

"Who...who are you?"

Sheik dreaded the words, and the smug satisfaction on Feror's face as he spoke them promised only trouble in the near future.

"Why, I'm your creator."

* * *

**Soul Remnants**

**Chapter 90**

* * *

"Creator?" Speil asked, looking uncertain, still dazed and confused from his sudden separation from Sheik's consciousness.

Truth be told, Sheik himself was feeling like he'd been torn in half, his other part standing in front of Feror. He shook his head—Speil was a parasite, nothing more.

"Creator, yes," Feror said, nodding and smiling at the creature he had not seen for millennia. "Though...I would like it if you refer to me as...Father. I gave you life, after all."

"Father..." Speil repeated, lowering his head, looking thoughtful.

 _Something is wrong_ , Sheik thought as he was helped to his feet by Link and Tira, the Hero giving Sheik a look of immense relief. Of course Link would be happy that Speil was finally out of his lover. Briefly, he wondered if the seal was still on his back, but he forced himself to focus. Something was different about Speil. He was...calmer than Sheik had ever seen him after the events in Hyrule. By all accounts, he should have flown into a rage and attacked everyone within sight, especially after noticing that Link, or His Light, was in the vicinity. And yet...the Shadow was just looking at his feet, muttering the word "Father" over and over again. Why was he acting like this? Was it a side effect of being melded with Sheik's being?

"There are many things you need to know, and I will be happy to tell you," Feror told the Shadow, gently forcing Speil to look at him with a hand on his chin. "But first...do you not remember me? At all?"

"Nothing but the...the temple," Speil said slowly. "And so many coming to fight me...dying... And then My Light..."

"Your Light?" Feror said, glancing over at Sheik and the others, catching sight of Link again. "Ah, of course...I was inspired by the legend of the Hero of Time when I decided to try my hand at making life. I suppose it was only a matter of time before some sort of bond was established between you." He looked back at Speil, brushing his thumb gently across the Shadow's cheek, smiling fondly. "You were always special...my firstborn... They never even let me give you a name."

"I have a name," Speil said. He looked positively peaceful with his creator so close. "Speil."

"Speil...Mirror...clever," Feror said with approval. "Will you join me, Speil, in my quest for vengeance?"

There was a moment that seemed to stretch on for an agonising eternity as the Shadow looked directly at Sheik, those glowing red orbs revealing nothing, only analysing, thinking, wondering...and nodded. Feror smiled and embraced his "firstborn" (however wrong the term sounded) tightly.

"The abomination," Rauru said. He was slowly climbing to his feet, utterly exhausted from the effort to keep Feror imprisoned. "It _still_ lives?"

"You didn't get all of it. It hid inside Sheik," Link said bitterly, glaring at his dark mirror image. "Like a coward."

"He is not a coward," Feror said, breaking the embrace, but keeping a hand on Speil's shoulder. "He simply does what he was made to do. I was inexperienced and did not know how to create a self-sustaining being. The parasitic quality were...unfortunate. But it has kept him alive long enough to be here today. That speaks for his viability. It is not cowardice to follow one's instincts, Hylian."

Link looked ready to hurl himself at Feror, but Sheik stopped him. It was more than clear that it was Feror who had the advantage now, not them. What could they possibly do to hurt a living god?

Feror glanced at the gate. "Not even this will draw my sisters out of hiding?" he asked aloud. "Are they truly that afraid to face me?"

"They are being kind," Rauru said, panting. His breath sounded ragged. "They are giving you a chance to abandon this folly."

"Folly?" Feror asked, his voice going cold and a dark expression appearing on his face. The mood change was so abrupt that even Speil looked nervous. "Folly?" he repeated, looking at Rauru. "I am standing in the Sacred Realm, something that my sisters have worked very hard to prevent from happening, going as far as stripping me of my powers, and you call this a folly? Old man, this is a success!"

"A success in idiocy," Rauru said.

Feror roared and seemed to disappear from where he was standing, reappearing in front of the gate, already drawing a massive amount of power from the Sacred Realm, a massive ball of pure light appearing between his hands, shining so bright that Sheik was unable to look at it without feeling like his eyes were burning.

"Idiocy?!" Feror roared. "I will show you idiocy!" He threw the light directly at the stone, and it collided with a flash so bright that everyone could see it through their eyelids. Sheik opened his eyes just in time to see the effects of the attack.

The gate could not possibly withstand such an assault, and they could only watch with horror as Feror delivered one final, savage blow to the previously unyielding stone—now weakened and vulnerable—, which shattered. It exploded inwards, thousands of pieces raining into the room behind it. Smoke from the pulverised rock billowed in all directions, covering the area in a dense fog that made it difficult to breathe. It eventually began to subside, revealing Feror standing in front of the opening, panting with exertion and looking satisfied.

He straightened up and cast a glance in the direction of the Sages. "How is that idiocy, Rauru?" he asked and marched forward. "Sisters!" he bellowed, stretching his arms out in an inviting gesture. "Din! Nayru! Farore!" His voice echoed throughout the Sacred Realm, booming and terrible. "It is I, Feror! Your brother has finally come home!"

The room behind the gate was grand in its appearance. White marble covered the floor and walls. A beautiful pair of twin staircases led upwards into the haze high above, disappearing. Pillars supporting nothing stood on each side of the small, tiled path leading forwards, between the twin staircases. At the end of the path, an altar-like pedestal stood, emblazoned with the symbol of the Triforce. And above the altar, floating daintily in the air, humming with power, the Triforce itself glowed with splendour.

Feror walked forward, arms still outstretched like an adoring audience was cheering him on, though he was casting suspicious glances to the sides.

"Sisters!" He called out. "Will you not come and greet your beloved brother, whom you claimed to love so dearly?!" No answer came, and his frustration was clear on his face by the time he reached the stairs. He reached out to one of them, trying to touch the baluster. His fingers went through it, nothing more than an illusion. The other staircase was much the same—decoration, with no purpose beyond that. "Afraid to face me, are you?!" he bellowed with such force that it shook the walls. "Come out, cravens!"

By now, the mortals and the Sages had congregated outside the gate, horribly fascinated by the events. Only Rauru looked unsurprised. If anything, the ancient Sage looked...saddened.

Feror paced around the chamber several times, alternately calling out for his sisters and destroying more of the decorations. Pillars crumbled under his rage, the floor cracking. After several minutes of waiting and with nothing else happening, Feror turned to Rauru, stalking over to him.

"What is the meaning this?!" he demanded. "Where are they?!"

Rauru remained utterly calm in the face of the deity, glancing around the chamber before returning his eyes to Feror's. "Gone," he said.

Feror blinked, his golden orbs searching the old man's face for lies. "Gone? What do you mean, gone? Explain yourself!"

"The Goddesses are not here," Rauru elaborated painfully slow. "And have not been for a thousand years."

"Then where are they?" Feror demanded to know. "Tell me so that I may finally have my revenge!"

"You have already had it," the Sage responded, again glancing around the room, but now there were tears in his eyes. "They did not seal themselves away after exiling you, Feror. They died."

Perhaps it was the bluntness of the tone, or perhaps just the truth itself. Feror's eyes widened, and his legs weakened until he was forced to his knees, staring at Rauru with horror. "Died?" he asked. "How?"

Rauru shook his head. "You ask that? After how you savagely attacked them?" he said.

"Their wounds were minor!" Feror exclaimed.

"Their physical wounds, perhaps." Rauru was crying now, his eyes red and his lips trembling. "But their hearts...you broke them, Feror, and there is nothing more devastating to a divine being than that. It wasn't your power, or your anger or hatred that killed them...it was your betrayal...and their knowledge that it was _their_ actions that made you like this. They tried to appease you, to make you come back to them...but you refused, and attacked. I urged them to destroy you. They could have done so at any time—compared to them you were but a child. Their love for you was their undoing."

Rauru stepped into the chamber.

"When they returned from the mortal plane, they were already dying. I was helpless, and _they_ tried to comfort _me_ , even in their final moments. They concentrated the last of their powers and put it into the Triforce and charged me with keeping it safe, after which they went inside this chamber...and perished. I locked it, as to preserve their memory, but even that was futile. What remained of their physical forms dissolved and returned to the mortal plane as magic, and spread across the world." He whirled around, pointing an accusing finger at Feror. "This is the result of your work, Feror! You murdered them!"

"I...I did not know..." Feror whispered, staring at the floor. "How...why..."

Sheik felt...empty. The Goddesses were...gone, and had been for a millennium? It was...far too much to take in at once. The implications this had... There was a metallic clang, and he saw Zelda needing to be held up by Tira, her cane having slipped through her weakened grip. She too was crying, silent tears running down her cheeks. Everything she had been taught while growing up, everything she believed in was...all false, and now there weren't even any Goddesses left.

To his left, Link's fists were clenching and unclenching. The champion of the Goddesses... Their words had guided his life for so long, and they weren't even around to see him succeed, to thank him for his blood, sweat and tears.

Strangely enough, Sheik himself felt little else, apart from the emptiness. Perhaps it would strike him later, the horrific sense of loss, but right now all he could think about was the remaining god, kneeling and muttering to himself. What would Feror do now? Speil was approaching his "father" carefully, looking uncertain.

"This...changes everything..." Feror said finally, rising to his feet, his eyes still wide. His lips twitched. "Except...it doesn't. Not really. A minor alteration...now that the main obstacles are gone." He laughed, but it was not a mirthful one. It was pained, coloured with agony and loss. With desperation, the sound rose until it could be heard all over the realm, tears running down the deity's face. "Glorious!" he exclaimed.

"Feror, as the Sage of Light and representative of the Goddesses, I condemn you—"Rauru began.

"Enough!" Feror screamed, holding his palm out to the old man. Rauru never even had time to react. His skin and clothes turned grey instantly, cracks forming and creating deep fissures in his form, his face frozen in perpetual accusation. The wind hit, and the Sage of Light was dust, blowing through the chamber, nothing remaining but his medallion, which hit the floor with a loud bang. "You always talked too much," Feror whispered, looking horrified at what he had done. "You...should have...I..."

"Father?" Speil said.

Snapping out of his daze, Feror looked at everyone's horrified faces. "He was old," he said. "His time had to end."

"Murderer!" Saria shouted. The Sages began to weave their magic, though what that would accomplish, Sheik did not know. He himself was frozen in place, unable to believe what he had just witnessed.

"Yes, I am," Feror said, nodding slowly. "No need for that," he said, referring to the attacks the Sages were preparing. A nod, and it was like their powers simply...disappeared. "I would rather not do to you what I did to Rauru. You can still be of use to me. You _will_ be of use to me."

"We will never help you," Nabooru said. "Rauru was right, the Goddesses should have killed you when they had the chance."

"You do not have the right to speak of my sisters," Feror said calmly, his face falling back into a neutral mask of indifference, though his tone held an underlying edge of malice. "Guard your tongue, Gerudo." He turned to Speil and laid a hand on his first creation's shoulder. "Whatever has happened does not matter—my purpose still remains clear to me."

"What are you going to do?" the Shadow asked, still looking uncertain. Perhaps even _he_ was realising what a madman he was dealing with.

Feror took a shaky breath as he walked over to Rauru's medallion and picked it up. It looked big in his hands.

"My sisters...were wrong about a great many things," he said. "But they were right about the thing I argued most adamantly for." He looked at them. "Free will...is a plague." The medallion began to glow, and it slowly disappeared as tendrils of light snaked into Feror's body. It looked painful—he clenched his jaw and groaned quietly. "What I gave my humans, I gave so that they too could create. Build, weave, compose, design, draw, paint...all of it linked to a mind that is its own."

He walked out of the chamber and stepped into the water, washing his hands of the dust that was all that remained of Rauru.

"And what have you all done with this gift?" he asked. "You expand and collapse. You fight over everything, be it resources, territory, honour, rights, even flesh... For a thousand years, I have watched as all sentient beings on this world have tried to kill each other over something so inconsequential as minerals in the ground that just happen to be uncommon. What utter ridiculousness."

He whirled to face them again, gritting his teeth.

"Din, Nayru and Farore were right. Mortals were not ready for free will. It only made them put themselves ahead of everyone else. Greed, avarice, jealousy and hate were all it bred in you!" He laughed again. "But it does not matter, does it? I often wondered what I would do once I regained my divinity, what I would spend my time on once I had my sisters at my feet. Then it became clear to me—I would fix every single one of my mistakes. I would undo the damage I had caused. Unfortunately, that would mean destroying everything that had been afflicted with the disease, one creature at a time. That would take too long, for my taste. So I have decided to simply...start over."

"Start over?" Zelda asked, finally finding her voice. "What do you mean by that?"

"What is the one way to ensure that life in its present form cannot continue on the earth?" Feror asked. "Simple, you destroy the earth." He cleared his throat. "Actually, I do not mean destroy. I mean to reshape it, and the fortunate side effect of that will be the utter annihilation of all intelligent life. Then, with the knowledge I now possess, I will start life anew. And this time, there will be no mistakes."

"You're insane," Darunia bellowed.

"We won't let you do that," Link announced, drawing his sword. Speil mirrored the action, shielding his creator, and Sheik was struck by how similar the scene was to a different event. In the temple where the Delta Force had been created, the Hero and his Shadow had been standing the exact same way.

"It is not a matter of you allowing me to do so," Feror said calmly, waving a hand towards the chamber. The Triforce came to float gently above his palm. "As far as I am concerned, it is already done. At this point, there is nothing you can do to stop me, especially now that I have this."

"Blasphemy!" Impa announced. "The Triforce is not for your hands!"

"On the contrary, I consider it an inheritance," Feror said. "As do I consider the power of the Sages mine. In fact, I will require the...five of you, I suppose now that old Rauru is gone, as conduits." Without waiting for an answer, he waved a hand, and the remaining Sages, excluding Zelda, was hurled into a cage just like the one Feror had been imprisoned in. He had absorbed the Sage of Light's powers through his medallion. "It is not up for debate."

He looked to the mortals of the group. "As for the rest of you...well, nothing would please me more than to destroy my sisters' champions." He reached out a hand, and Sheik reached for his weapons. If he was going to die, it was going to be while fighting.

"Father!"

Feror paused, watching as Speil moved to stand in front of the group. Sheik noticed that he was standing in front of _him_ in particular. "What are you doing?" Feror asked.

"Please, spare them," Speil said in a voice so submissive Sheik never would have believed could have come from the Shadow had he not just seen it. "The Sheikah is...dear to me."

"Hmph," Feror huffed, suddenly standing in front of them. "Of all the people to grow attached to..." he sighed. "Very well, I will spare them." He paused. "In fact, I will even extend an invitation."

He studied them all carefully, paying extra attention to Sheik, noting his first creation's attachment to him.

"I will require mortal hands in the new order, once the earth has healed. You have all proven to be resourceful given the thorns you were in my side...or Rehm's side, anyway. I ask you, swear loyalty and fealty to me, and worship me as you would the Goddesses...and you will be granted immortality and power beyond your wildest dreams. You will be like demigods, acting on my behalf, ruling the world!"

Faster than Sheik could react, Feror grabbed his left arm and lifted it so his mangled hand was visible to all. "I will heal you, make you whole again."

Sheik gasped as the phantom shapes of his fingers reappeared where he had lost them.

"Restore your sight."

There was sudden change in his vision as his useless left eye could suddenly see once again. The change was so sudden and drastic it nearly nauseated him.

"Heal your wounded hearts."

He gasped again as his heart suddenly beat stronger than it had in years, repaired of the damage it had sustained from coming back to life—not skipping a beat like it always did.

Feror smiled. "All this, I promise you all. Even you, Rial Vortan, who have fought me every step of the way. You have proven to be one of the brightest examples of my creation." He glanced at them all, studying their faces. "What say you? Will you swear to me?"

Everyone stared at Feror and Sheik, transfixed by the sight of reappearing digits and other healing results. Sheik felt sick to his stomach, both from the healing of his sight and the knowledge that he wanted to say yes. He wanted his fingers back. He wanted his eye back. And most of all, he wanted his life back, the years that had been stolen from him when Speil had killed him. And yet... He didn't allow anyone else to speak. He found a dagger with his right hand, moving faster than he had ever done, and thrust.

Feror caught his wrist and squeezed until the dagger fell clatteringly to the floor. Feror sighed and pushed Sheik backwards, letting go. It was as if time slowed down as Sheik stumbled and hit the floor. His fingers disappeared, leaving the stumps in their place. The sight in his left eye faded until he was once again half-blind, and upon hitting the hard floor, his heart skipped at least three beats, leaving him clutching his chest in agony. Link was at his side in an instant, dropping his sword, every thought of attacking Feror gone.

"Disappointing," Feror said, his back turned to them. "Though not surprising. My sisters always had a knack for making slaves of those most devoted them." He still held the Triforce in one hand, and the tendrils were already slithering into his body, absorbing the powers of the three Goddesses. This looked even more painful than the medallion, and his skin tightened wherever a tendril entered him. He gasped. "I will keep my word, however. You will be...agh...spared, though I will not permit you to stay in this holy place. You may go, and witness the world you knew end...and find a place to die with dignity. Begone."

There was a flash of light that blinded them, loud cracking sounds surrounding them, and then they were back in the inner sanctum of Prison's Peak.

They spent the next few minutes milling about the chamber, all of them digesting what they had just witnessed.

Zelda stared into space, her lips moving silently in contemplation and analysis. The news had devastated her, and Sheik didn't blame her at all. The death of Rauru must have hurt her severely, though she kept a stiff upper lip about it all.

Tira stayed close to the princess, keeping a close eye on her, though she too seemed deep in thought. Sheik wasn't sure how devoted she had been to the Goddesses until now, but there were certainly _some_ beliefs that were being questioned.

Rial paced restlessly around the chamber, though his muttering was more frustrated than anything. He had never been a believer, Sheik knew, and tonight he had been bombarded with information and basically been informed that he had been wrong all along.

Link too was frustrated, but Sheik wasn't entirely sure that it had to do with the Goddesses having been dead for so long, or the fact that Speil had reappeared and joined Feror, making his archenemy even stronger. Whatever his feelings were, he was more or less attached to Sheik by the hip now, never straying more than a few feet away and asking Sheik if he was okay over and over.

Sheik himself...that empty feeling was still there, but above all, he was angry. Angry at Rauru for hiding the truth for so long. Angry at Speil for joining Feror. Angry at Feror for being, essentially, an entitled little brat. And most important of all, he was angry with Feror for putting his aunt in a cage. And he was getting a mite irritated with Link's repeated questioning. Good grief, it was like the Hero expected Sheik's appearance to revert back to the ashen grey of the Shadow any second. Most important of all, he was filled with a desire to do something, anything, about the supposedly impending apocalypse, but...what _could_ he do? And at the back of his mind, he was angry that Feror hadn't healed him permanently. He wanted his time back...

"Zelda," he said suddenly, drawing the attention of everyone in the chamber. "Can you open a door to the Sacred Realm?"

The princess, eyes still a little glazed over, shook her head. "I have tried," she said. "I can't even feel it. It's like F-Feror has blocked it off completely. The only way I can imagine still works is the door in the Temple of Time, but...it will take weeks to get there, even if we don't sleep on the way."

So that was what she had been thinking about. She was trying to find a solution.

"Even if you could open a door, what would be the point?" Rial said, sounding tired. His sword lay forgotten on the floor, his shield nowhere to be seen. It had probably been left back in the Sacred Realm. "The man is a god. I know how to kill mortal beings—Rehm would have been easy—but a god? A few hours ago, I didn't even believe in them, and now...it's like everything has been turned upside down."

"General, we cannot lose faith—"

"Never had any in the first place," Rial said, picking up his sword and sheathing it. "If you don't mind, I'd rather not got bogged down in this issue. I should get—"

The room shook violently, cracks spreading in the stone. The alcove where Feror's power had been sealed fell apart, turning into little more than a pile of rocks in a doorway. Sheik was nearly knocked off his feet, but Link kept him steady, solid like a...well, rock. Tira was the same for Zelda, and Rial simply held kneeled. The shaking was accompanied by a sound like thunder, only a thousand times more powerful.

"It has started," Tira said when the shaking subsided, her voice quiet. "The world is ending."

"Hopefully, it won't happen right away," Rial said, heading for the entrance to the chamber.

"Where are you going?" Link asked.

"Going to fetch Victor," Rial said. "Going to bring him home." He disappeared without another word, leaving the four from Hyrule alone, staring uncertainly at each other.

"I can't end like this," Zelda said firmly. She stood up to her full height, looking at them. "I refuse to let it."

"What can we do, though?" Sheik said.

"I don't know, Sheik, but I'm certain we can think of something," she replied, and paused as a thought struck her. "He has the Triforce, and it seemed like he was going to take its power. Surely absorbing the essence of three Goddesses who were supposedly more powerful than him won't happen in an instant."

"It looked like it was painful, too," Link added. "You saw him wincing, both when he took the medallion and the Triforce."

"He outright groaned at one point," Sheik pointed out.

"So...we might still have some time left," Zelda said. "And taking all that power is hurting him. What can we do with that?"

"Not much from here," Tira said.

"True," Zelda said, nodding. She looked at the entrance to the room. "I'm sure we'll think of something eventually. For now, let us return to the airship. I'd rather not get left behind on this mountain in case Rial decides the King needs to get to the city immediately."

They followed Rial back to the main hall, where he was looking at Victor's body without moving. He noticed their arrival and nodded, stooping down to pick up the King. "Let's go," he said.

"There's just one problem," Sheik said, pointing at the barred door that led to the corridors. "Rehm's army is still up here."

"I can't hear anything," Link said after running up the door and putting his ear to it. "No fighting."

"Which can mean one of two things," Sheik said. "Our men are all dead and Rehm's men are waiting for us outside, or _our_ men killed _Rehm's_ men and are waiting for us outside. Which odds do you fancy?"

"At this point, I do not even care," Rial said. "What have we got to lose if the world is ending anyway?"

No one could argue with that logic. The only risk was that they would die a little sooner...and perhaps a bit bloodier. Tira and Link lifted the bar and, after exchanging nods, pulled the doors open.

They had expected the blood and bodies of both sides littering the floor. The stink of death lay heavily in the air. They had not expected the lieutenant sitting alone in the middle of the room, his legs crossed, seemingly unfazed by the carnage around him. On the other hand, he himself was covered in blood, so perhaps he was simply giving it a pass himself. He rose to his feet as they emerged from the main hall, probably intending to congratulate them on a job well done, but his smile died immediately upon seeing the body cradled in Rial's arms.

"General?" he asked.

"We failed," Rial said simply. "On a colossal scale." He glanced around the room. "What happened?"

The lieutenant was clearly perturbed by his leader's words, but he recovered fairly quickly. "Er...we kept fighting after you locked yourselves in, and it was looking pretty bad for a while, but then the whole mountain seemed to shake and the enemy just...ran away. I don't think Rehm paid them enough to stick around for earthquakes." He hesitated. "Is Rehm...is he...?"

"Dead?" Rial finished flatly. "Sort of. Hard to explain. Where are the others?"

"I've posted them at strategic junctions throughout the keep, sir. I figured it was best to ensure we had some sort of warning just in case the enemy was regrouping."

"Recall them, lieutenant," Rial said, walking past his subordinate. "We're leaving."

Another quake shook the mountain as they found the tunnel leading to the airship crash site. The soldiers discussed amongst themselves what the cause was, but those who knew the truth did not elaborate. The last thing they needed was panic.

The atmosphere was tense while they walked through the tunnel, and by the time they found the place where _The Chimera_ had cut deeply into the mountainside and climbed out, it could have been cut with a knife.

It did not help that the night sky had taken on a distinctly reddish hue, either. It was an unnatural colour, and Sheik could only assume that it had something to do with Feror's ascension and whatever he was up to in the Sacred Realm.

Luckily, the sight that met them at the crash site was encouraging. Fires burned brightly around the crash site, and the injured had been moved close to them to keep them warm. The ship itself had been righted and workers and crew were milling about the hull, making repairs. The armour around the balloon had been removed, and the balloon itself had expanded far more than Sheik had expected to be possible. As they approached the ship, they saw that it was tied down to bolts that had been struck into the ground. It was flyable, then.

The work stopped when people realised that the fighters had returned and that their mission had failed. Soldiers gathered around Rial and the body of King Victor, asking questions, demanding to know what had happened. Rial answered none of them and simply walked up the gangplank and boarded the ship, leaving the poor lieutenant to explain.

The news crushed the spirits of everyone who had volunteered, and the work didn't seem to continue as fast as it had done upon their approach.

Sheik and Link managed to detach themselves from the group that had gathered around them, leaving Zelda with Tira to tell an embellished tale supplementing the lieutenant's hurried explanations. They walked around the site in silence, neither of them sure of what to say.

"So...that escalated quickly, huh?" Link finally uttered, trying to give Sheik a wry smile, though it didn't reach his eyes.

"You can say that again," Sheik agreed. "I can honestly say I did not expect this at all when we entered Lumina...almost a year ago, now."

"Kinda makes me wish we'd left when we had the chance," the Hero said. "But...I dunno, it feels like we were meant to be here, to witness this, you know?"

Sheik shook his head. "I could have done without witnessing this," he said. He glanced up at the sky. It was growing redder by the minute. Every now and then, a fork of lightning streaked across it. It was accompanied by the loudest cracks Sheik had heard, and the mountains shook with every volley. "Without knowing what we know, we would have assumed this was some sort of natural phenomenon...as opposed to the end of the world."

"There's that dry, brutal honesty I've been missing," Link said, wrapping an arm around Sheik's shoulders. "How are you feeling? Honestly."

Sheik sighed. "I'm...apart from the sense of impending doom, I suppose I am...glad that the Shadow is gone."

"Me too," Link said, looking at Sheik to take in his features, clearly appreciating them more than his more or less dead look. "And?" he said, knowing there was more his lover wasn't saying.

"I...he gave it all back to me," Sheik said, looking at his maimed hand. "My fingers, my sight...and I felt my heart beating stronger. Only for a minute, I had it all back. I never realised how much I miss it. I suppose I—mmm!"

Link interrupted him with a kiss, holding him tightly. Sheik relaxed into the embrace and kissed him back, having missed doing this for what felt like an eternity. Even with all the horrible things they had been witness to today, and knowing that it was all going to end, the kiss cheered him up immensely, and he almost wanted to suggest that they find a dark, quiet corner and—

"Hey, you two, stop getting everyone excited unless you're prepared to share," a loud voice called out from somewhere to their left.

Elenwe looked immensely pleased with herself as Link and Sheik joined her, Kafei, Lor and a sleeping Ard around the fire. They both gave the sleeping warlock concerned looks, but Lor smiled and shook his head, careful not to jostle Ard's head, which was resting in his lap.

"He's fine," he said. "Just tired. Filling the balloon took a lot out of him."

"You look tired yourself," Sheik said.

"I helped, but he had to do the bulk of the work," Lor said. "I'm still a novice at best."

"So," Elenwe said, interrupting. "I take it that the mission wasn't as successful as we'd hoped?"

"You said it," Link muttered. He began to explain what they had learned earlier that night, keeping his voice low to ensure no one else could hear. The expressions on their faces varied from surprise to sadness to anger to shock, and by the time Link had finished, they looked like Sheik felt—empty and slightly lost.

"That's a...lot to take in," Kafei said, giving Sheik a few glances. He was clearly happy to see his cousin back to his usual self...but there was clearly something he wanted to ask, and Sheik had an inkling as to what it was.

"No shit," Elenwe said sarcastically. "So that's it, then? We're all going to die?"

"If we don't figure something out, yeah," Link replied.

"Is the ship ready?" Sheik enquired.

"One more hour or so of work, according to Tadian, just to ensure it doesn't break apart mid-air," the Gerudo answered. "Not that it really matters anymore." She snuggled closer to Kafei, kissing his burned cheek. "Guess we gotta make the most of it."

Sheik eyed his cousin. "May I have a word with you?"

Kafei blinked, and nodded. "Sure." He disentangled himself from Elenwe and joined Sheik a few paces away, out of earshot thanks to the wind. "Did you—"he began, but Sheik interrupted him.

"I spoke with Impa," he said. "Asked her about...you."

Kafei looked like he wanted to run away, but all he did was take a deep breath and say, "And?"

"You were right," Sheik said, nodding. "It was all a misunderstanding...and it was my own damn fault I got hurt that night." He lowered his head. "I suppose it is too much to ask you to forgive me at this point, but—"

"Not at all," Kafei said, smiling. "I forgive you." He hesitated. "Did...did she say anything else about me?" Was he fishing for any sign of approval from Impa?

"Only that she was happy you found happiness outside of Hyrule," Sheik replied, looking towards Elenwe. "She loves you...it was just difficult for her to show it, I think."

"I suppose," Kafei said, stomping his feet to keep warm. "I guess I will never be able to forget that she killed my parents, but...at least she tried to do right by me, in the end. I wish I could speak with her just one more time, before the end, but I guess that will never happen."

"Never say never," Sheik told him firmly. "We're not beaten yet."

Just as he said it, crimson and purple lightning tore through the sky, the thunder threatening to tear the entire mountain to pieces, the sky beginning to glow faintly now. Feror was definitely beginning to reshape the world.

The camp grew restless, many beginning to shout and scream obscenities, demanding to know what was happening. Sheik's attention was focused on something else entirely, however. The flash had revealed a very peculiar formation on one of the surrounding mountainsides. It was like a pillar, an obelisk jutting from the rock, its sides too smooth and purposefully shaped to be natural.

Sheik remembered the conversation he'd had with Rial and Sid after Angen's inn had been burned after spotting a very similar-looking object. He tried to recall the exact wording of the conversation, but the only thing he was completely certain of was that it was called a Node, and that they had been built all over Lumina.

He gasped as he made all the connections, and he looked at Kafei. "We need to talk to the others."

"Why?" Kafei asked.

Sheik glanced at the spot where he had seen the Node, now shrouded in darkness but for the faint glow of red from the sky.

"I have a plan."


	10. Chapter 10

**Soul Remnants**

**Chapter 91**

* * *

_The Chimera_ limped through the air, buffeted by the strong winds that seemed to follow them from Prison's Peak. They threw the airship from side to side, threatening to tear apart the already weakened structure. Above, the sky was now shining with a crimson glow, ominous and foreboding. Lightning of different colours streaked across it and between the clouds. The ship stayed well below that height—a single hit by one of those, and it was all over.

Below, the land was already in an uproar. Fires burned everywhere, and the ground shook with powerful quakes that opened the earth like giant maws, swallowing everything. The air stank of smoke, and it was difficult to breathe out on deck.

On the bridge of the airship, Sheik stared out the window while keeping a firm grip on an iron bar mounted on the wall. It was difficult to believe that a few hours ago he had thought they were going to end a war, and now he was witnessing the end of the world as he knew it. How many thousands were already dead, he did not know, nor did he wish to calculate the number. Too many, was all he wished to say on the matter. He could only hope that his plan would work...and that the place was still standing.

Link was standing beside him, also entranced by the view of the world breaking apart beneath them. He did not try to hide his shock, or wipe away the tears that were gathering in the corners of his eyes. The Hero's love for all life was not doing him any good now, and just this once Sheik wished that Link could make himself harden, if only to spare himself the pain.

"Do you think it will work?" the Hero said quietly, not taking his eyes off the red sky.

Sheik took a moment to consider that. What would be the best answer – a lie or the truth? A lie could comfort, but would leave the truth all the more crushing once it reared its ugly head...and the situation was far too grave for sugar-coating. "I have no idea," he finally replied, looking at Link. "But it is the only plan I can think of."

"Worth a shot, huh?"

"Precisely."

Someone cursed and hit their console.

The mood on the bridge was far from cheery. The crew had been informed of what was happening, what they were planning to do, and been given a chance to leave before the ship took off. Those who did could take shelter in the Winter Palace and hope that it would remain untouched, or take to the ruined roads and hope to get home before they died. Many had left; about fifty crewmembers and soldiers remained behind. The ship was flying with a skeleton crew at this point, but Tadian had said that it did not matter how well the trip went—it would be _The Chimera_ 's last flight anyway. The second the support from the balloon vanished, it would tear break under its own weight, and the engineer doubted he'd be able to put it back together again.

Rial had taken Victor's body to the captain's cabin and locked the door, refusing to come out. He had been informed of the plan, but had not replied. Zelda had taken command of what remained of the rebel forces, promising to turn them over to Rial should he decide to re-join them.

The princess was sitting at one of the stations on the bridge, Tira hovering close by, and studying a map of Lumina. More accurately, she was studying the heavily forested area near the centre of the country. Whatever information she hoped to glean from the map was anyone's guess—Sheik had a feeling she was just trying to busy herself. She rubbed her thigh every now and then, wincing. Bad enough that the world was ending, but having it do so while in pain...

Kafei was standing by Elenwe's station, intent on staying close to his lover. The two had gladly agreed to the plan, preferring to actually be doing something as opposed to waiting for death. It didn't matter if they succeeded or not, they just wanted to stay active. There was a noticeable difference in the way Kafei carried himself, however. Perhaps knowing that Sheik had finally learned the truth and that Impa was happy for him had lifted some sort of burden off his shoulders.

Ard and Lor were somewhere below deck, resting as well as they could. The plan relied heavily on them, and they needed to be fresh. Lor had been sceptical, but Ard had spoken for them in this case. As far as he was concerned, Riveth's death was not yet avenged, and he'd be damned if he was going to let the world end without there being _some_ retribution. He hadn't said this as much as he communicated it with an intense gaze, but everyone had gotten the gist. The effect was lessened somewhat by the fact that he had fallen asleep almost immediately afterwards, nuzzling into Lor's neck. Sheik hoped that the four hours or so it would take them to reach their destination would be enough for him to recover. Otherwise...well...

Sheik sighed and put his forehead against the glass, cool and smooth. It was almost funny; he wasn't nearly as uncomfortable with this flight as he had been with the others. On the other hand, the only thing he'd worried about then was whether or not they would simply plummet from the sky and break into a million pieces on the ground. Now he worried if the ground would open up beneath them and that they would never hit anything whatsoever, simply falling into the endless abyss below. An impending apocalypse did wonderful things for one's perspective, it seemed.

"How far along are we?" Zelda asked. They had been flying for a while, but the going was slow. At least two of the engines were damaged while another was completely non-functional.

"An hour to go, maybe, unless another one of the engines shuts down on us," Elenwe replied. "Hard to tell when the craft is basically disintegrating around us."

Sheik's grip on the bar tightened, and Link's arm found its way around his waist, pulling him close.

"And the world is disintegrating below," Sheik whispered.

"Shhh," Link said soothingly. "We're not beaten yet."

"Even if we succeed, what will be left?" He was trying to fight back the despair, but it was becoming overwhelming, and his lack of control at the moment was frustrating. He was still having trouble with his anger, but it was not nearly as bad as when Speil had been part of his person. Something fundamental had been changed by the Shadow, he knew, and he could only hope his temper was the only thing affected. "We've seen what is happening in Lumina, but what about the rest of the world? What about Hyrule?"

"The same thing, most likely," Elenwe said, having overheard the conversation. "Can't let that stop us, though. C'mon, kid, it's _your_ plan, don't lose faith in it before you've actually seen it fail."

"It's more the Enlightened One's plan, really," Sheik pointed out. "He built the Nodes, after all. He never had the time to actually use them. I have no idea if they even work at this point."

"You said it yourself, the one you saw was brimming with magical energy," Zelda pointed out. "If these Nodes are still actively storing the ambient energies of Lumina, it stands to reason that they will unleash it as well, provided we can find a way to activate them."

"If the Hall of Silence still stands, I'm sure we will," Kafei said.

The Hall of Silence was the fortress Feror built in his guise as the Enlightened One during the war against the Goddesses. The network of Nodes had been built with the Hall as its centre, its nexus. Feror's plan had been to use the network to open a gate to the Sacred Realm and bind it to the mortal realm, preventing the Goddesses from denying him access. It was time to see if that plan would have worked. The forest in which the fortress stood had been forbidden to enter ever since the war, but Sheik had a feeling they would find it open, if it had not been destroyed by the cataclysmic events below. Feror, in his many mortal disguises, could not have resisted the urge to return there, Sheik was certain of it.

A bolt of acid-green lightning tore the skies and plunged to the earth below. It struck a forested area, which immediately burst into flame, incinerating an area at least a mile wide. It was a terrifying sight to behold, and if Zelda's theory that it would take Feror days, if not weeks, to truly absorb the power of the Triforce was correct, then Sheik did not even want to imagine what destruction the god could unleash once he gained complete control. Zelda had told him about her dream, and the idea of the world burning under an exploding sun and drowning beneath the mile-high waves of the ocean was terrifying. Was that what Feror meant to do?

The service hatch at the back of the bridge opened, and Jedistern Tadian emerged from the hole, covered in soot and grease from top to bottom.

"That's it," he said. "I've done all I can with the machinery. If it doesn't all break apart before we get there, we _might_ be able to touch down lightly...otherwise it'll be a very interesting crash. Either way, _The Chimera_ will never fly again." He looked out the window, eyes wide. "Then again, I suppose it doesn't matter in the long run." He shook his head and rubbed his eyes. "Never believed in gods," he muttered.

"They were dead all along, I doubt they took offense at your lack of belief," Kafei said wryly. "Except for the one that happened to have lived as a mortal for a thousand years...Goddesses, I feel insane just saying it..."

Sheik wanted to say something, but Link's gentle touch brought his attention to the Hero. Link leaned and whispered, "Let's go below. There's something I want to talk about." Had this been any other time, Sheik would have assumed that Link wanted to have some "fun", but the timing and the grave look on his face suggested otherwise. He nodded and allowed himself to be led towards the service hatch. Zelda looked at them funnily, and Sheik noticed the significant looks that passed between the princess and Link. When Link nodded, and Zelda allowed a small smile to come to her lips, he got nervous.

It was never a good thing when those two shared secret smiles.

* * *

He felt...wrong. No, that was not it...different. He felt different. Like something hadn't gone amiss, but had simply relocated itself or changed form. Most importantly, he didn't feel angry. Well, not _as_ angry was a more apt description. Or was it? He wasn't sure, but then again, when was he ever sure about anything? His mind never stayed still, always buzzing, learning, rearranging, hating, forgetting... It was a wonder he hadn't gone mad yet...or perhaps he had, and simply didn't notice.

Speil was sitting on what could only be called a floor in the abstract sense, as there was truly nothing there to support him, and yet he did not fall into the void. The Sacred Realm had changed drastically in the last few hours since Feror—his father, whatever that entailed—had banished the others to the mortal plane. As he continued to absorb the power of the Triforce, waterfalls had dried up, the stone cracking and turning to dust and disappearing. Once it was over, all that remained was a void of darkness and light, shifting and entwining. Every now and then, a structure would start to take form, but it always disappeared before actually becoming solid. In a way, it felt like he was seeing the inside of his own head, the way nothing ever stood still, and some things disappeared, reforming and breaking down without actually letting him get a grasp of it.

It was no wonder he always felt frustrated—his own head worked against him at the best of times.

He glanced at Feror. The man—god, really—was sitting cross-legged, looking like he was floating in the air, with the Triforce floating between his hands. His eyes were closed in concentration, his brow furrowed. Pale tendrils of light crept from the artefact and into Feror's body, pulsing irregularly. Each of these pulses brought a wince and a groan of pain from the deity. It was hurting him, and yet he persisted in taking into himself the essence of his sisters' powers.

Was this his father? It was impossible to say. Speil had no recollection of him, but then he had no recollection of the many thousands of years he had been trapped in that temple either. He knew the time had passed, had felt it, but not what it had contained, what events had taken place _during_ that time. Truly, the first thing he could clearly recall was seeing the Hero of Time's reflection in the pools of his chamber. Everything before that was simply a blur. But there was something about Feror that Speil felt instantly drawn to, a familiar feeling of...if not comfort, then at least belonging.

"Why the Sheikah?"

They were the first words Feror had spoken since throwing the mortals out of the Sacred Realm, and the sound of his voice echoed in the void. Speil hesitated.

"What do you mean?" he asked his "father". It was a term that felt foreign...and right...and wrong...and ill fitting...and absolutely spot on. Argh, why couldn't he just come to a conclusion, just for once?

"Why is the Sheikah dear to you?" Feror elaborated, his eyes still closed, groaning quietly when a particularly powerful pulse went into him. "I would have expected the Hero of Time to be one you would come to care for."

Why, indeed? Why had Sheik, his pet, managed to worm his way into what he assumed was his heart, pervading his every thought and dream? Why did the Sheikah inspire such love, devotion, jealousy and hatred in him, while the Goddesses' champion, whom Feror had been inspired by when creating Speil, just inspired hatred? It did not make much sense, but again, few things ever did. At least to him. All he knew was that every time he looked upon the Sheikah, he wanted to...possess him, keep him just for himself...and every time Sheik refused, it only made him want him more, and the idea of losing him to someone else was enough to...well, he had proven the extent of his jealousy in the Forest Temple, had he not? He regretted that one, he truly did...for that was the night he had well and truly ruined any hope he'd had of the Sheikah loving him back.

"Speil?"

He refocused on Feror, and shrugged.

"I do not know," he said honestly. "He simply...intrigues me, and I love him."

Feror frowned. "Strange...but apt, I suppose, in a way. You are both...outsiders to the rest of the world. In the Sheikah's case, quite literally so. Do you know how that particular race came to be?"

"I do," Speil said. "They came to Hyrule, fleeing from a war they had lost in their own realm."

"Indeed," Feror said. "A pitiful story. No wonder they never truly found acceptance in Hyrule, when the mere act of looking at them made the Hylians uncomfortable, at least at first. It was a natural reaction to looking at something that did not belong in their world, and I suppose that while they eventually acclimatised to my sisters' realm, the discomfort the Hylians felt eventually evolved into outright distrust and hatred."

"Why are you telling me this?" Speil asked.

"Hm?" Feror opened his eyes, blinked confusedly. "Didn't you ask me about them?"

"No."

"Ah...I apologise, it is difficult to think right now." He groaned. "Downright painful, to be honest."

"Don't overexert yourself," Speil said.

"Do you have any idea how long I've waited for this moment?" Feror said, frowning. "I wouldn't be able to slow down even if I wanted to. No, I need the power, and I need it _now_. I have already begun to reshape the earth, but it's not enough—I need more energy, more force."

"Why?"

"Why? Did you not pay attention to my plan at all?"

"Why destroy it at all? If you have the Triforce, you can simply subjugate the world, and—"

"But I don't want to subjugate them," Feror interrupted, finally opening his eyes and looking at Speil. "The people of the world are free, living beings. They deserve to die the way they live. The new life I create afterwards...well, they will never have known free will and therefore will not miss it. Do you not see that I am being merciful? Imagine all the pain I am sparing them."

"And me?" Speil asked. "What are your plans for me?"

"You? You will be my herald," Feror said. "I will make you the second most powerful being in existence...if you want it."

"I do."

"Well, there we are then," Feror said happily, returning his focus to the Triforce. "Now, do not interrupt me again, please. This takes immense concentration, and I'd rather not accidentally rip the world in half or something equally ridiculous. Putting it back together will take far too long."

Speil knew that Feror spoke the truth, but he wanted to know. "Why did your sisters imprison me in the temple?"

Feror's lips tightened in obvious irritation, but he did not tell Speil off for breaking his concentration again. "You were difficult to control," he said. "Unruly, wild. And your temper was truly frightening to behold at times. It was clear from the beginning that you would never be allowed to walk the mortal plane, but I loved you still and wanted to keep you with me here, in the Sacred Realm. But my sisters were angry that I had gone against their word and created life without their permission. They never even got to know you before they took you from me." Feror's breath caught in his throat, surprising Speil. "I searched for you, you know," he continued. "I never stopped looking for you...but then the war came and...I had to prioritise. Had I known I succeeded then, I would have continued my search, but..."

"I understand," Speil said, fighting down the irritation. What kind of a father would abandon his search for his child? He shook his head. What did he know about fathers anyway?

"Anyway," Feror said as he drew a shaky breath. "Few things turned out the way I had planned, but I am truly happy you are here." He smiled. "And we will have all of eternity together."

For some reason, that only served to make Speil nervous.

* * *

Below deck, _The Chimera_ was a mess. Everything that wasn't nailed or bolted down had been tossed around in the crash, and no one had bothered to clear it up. It was pitch-black save for the shafts of light shining through breaches in the hull or from the few oil lamps that had survived. A lucky few had occupied the very limited number of crew cabins that were still intact while everyone else had found niches and alcoves to occupy. There was no conversation—the news they had received was too dire to inspire it.

Sheik and Link made their way through several decks, avoiding the gun deck—which was missing most of its hull—entirely. They made their way to the cargo deck, though the main hold had been sealed off due to the enormous hole in the bulkhead. They found one of the smaller storage chambers and closed the door behind them, hanging one of the oil lamps they'd taken from the ceiling. The chamber was small, and they had to stand very close to each other.

Sheik couldn't help but notice how intimate the chamber suddenly became, and he briefly wondered if Link had been faking the seriousness from before. "Well, here we are," he said. "What did you wish to speak to me about?"

Link looked around the chamber, suddenly appearing bashful. A small blush had crept to his cheeks...or perhaps it was the light from the lamp that was causing it. "Well...uh...I wanted to..."

Sheik reached out and brushed the back of his knuckles gently against the Hero's cheek. "What's with the shyness? You've never been one for that...come on, Link, you can tell me." He wanted to add: ' _What could possibly surprise me at this point?'_ , but he stopped himself.

That did not help Link at all, and it seemed that all the courage went out of him. He fixed a fake grin on his face and said, "I'm so glad you're back to normal. Good riddance to the Shadow, huh?"

Sheik shook his head. "Link..."

"Eugh, fine," the Hero said, turning his head away to regain his composure.

Sheik wasn't sure if he should be excited or worried. Few things could unnerve Link this way, and some of them were good while most of them were bad. Was there something else about Iteos he hadn't told him? Sheik had hoped they had put that behind them. Or maybe it was something else, something the Hero had been hiding for a long time and was about to reveal that would put a huge wedge between them, or perhaps something had happened to his—

The Hero thrust his hand out, curled into a fist. He turned it so that his fingers were pointing up, slowly uncurling them. There was something in his palm, something shiny, and...

Every thought Sheik had zooming through his head seized up, his mind basically shutting down when he saw what the Hero had.

Perhaps it was the simplicity of the design that made the statement so powerful, or the most sincere look of adoration on Link's face. It didn't matter, Sheik still found himself speechless as he gazed at the pair of rings in Link's hand. They were simple silver bands, with a single stone each set in small grooves in the metal. One stone was a crimson ruby, which Sheik knew was nearly the same, if not the exact same shade as his eyes, and the other was a sapphire, and Sheik didn't even need to look closely to see it was the same colour as Link's. He looked from the rings to Link's smile, his mouth opening and closing but refusing to actually utter any words.

"Since the world is ending and we don't know if the plan's gonna work...I...I figured this time would be the best to...to...to offer," Link said, eyes widening. "No, not offer, I mean, suggest—no, not that either..." He groaned. "Damn it, I..." He took a deep breath. "Sheik, I love you, and..."

"Link, calm down," Sheik said, smiling at him. "I know what you mean." He then frowned, because damned if his stupid mind wasn't going to get in the way. "Two men can't...they will never allow it, and—"

"I don't care," Link said, his face beet-red now. "I don't need ceremonies or someone telling me that it's okay. All I want and all I need is for you to say yes. So...will you?"

The treacherous part of his mind began to wonder how Link would react if he said no, but he absolutely refused to follow the line of thought. Really, the decision had been made the second Link kissed him for the first time. The first time they had slept together. The first time they had been forced apart, and when they'd reunited. When Sheik had died...and when he came back. No, this was all just a confirmation, wasn't it?

Sheik looked at Link, holding his gaze and allowed a bright smile to adorn his face. "Yes."

* * *

Zelda smiled to herself when Link and Sheik emerged quite a while later, both looking thoroughly spent. The presence of a hickey on Sheik's neck, which was quickly covered up by his cowl, was all the confirmation she needed. The rings on their fingers were just icing on the cake. They looked very fetching, just like she had thought.

She had been surprised when Link came to her in Caldhaven and asked her for advice. He'd wanted to give Sheik something special, and he was having trouble finding out. When she'd pressed him on why he felt the need to do so, he'd launched into a long-winded debate with himself on what he felt for the Sheikah and the implications. She had listened to him for forty minutes before she had finally interrupted him and asked if he wanted to show commitment, to which he'd nodded. She then went on to ask if he wanted something that would show devotion for both of them, which he'd also nodded to.

Men were not allowed to marry in Hyrule, or anywhere else as far as she knew. She told Link this, and the disappointment had been clear on his face. But then she'd suggested that it didn't matter what society at large thought. They had proven themselves more than once and did not need anyone's approval. The only important thing was what _they_ knew. They were young, certainly, but Zelda could not imagine a pair more suited for each other than those two.

She had helped him find a jeweller who could make the rings and had even loaned Link the money for them. She'd tried to pay for them, but the Hero would not have that, insisting that he should be on the one to pay in the end...even though he was absolutely broke at the moment. It was a debt she never intended to collect.

Then the business with the Shadow merging with Sheik had occurred, and she'd feared that nothing would come of it. Clearly, Link had changed his mind, though, and now her brothers were practically glowing, both from happiness and...the other thing (which she swore to herself that she would not imagine in order to preserve the dignity of all three). It was a good thing to see and it cheered her up immensely in the current situation—and the timing couldn't be better.

She reached out and squeezed Tira's hand, earning her a surprised look from her bodyguard, but she said nothing, simply nodding to the pair of lovers by the window. They were practically oblivious to anything but each other. Sheik wasn't even bothered by the fact that he was on a ship—and that was impressive indeed. Tira realised what had happened, and smiled as well. She had been present for the conversation, but had not spoken. She had clearly liked the idea, however.

She watched as Sheik separated himself from Link for a moment to speak with Jedistern Tadian, who looked close to passing out in his chair. Sheik removed what appeared to be the pipe Rehm had used to kill Victor, which the engineer studied closely, said something inaudible about and went below. Sheik went back to Link and stayed there. They looked out the window, practically pressed against each other, and for now all was well.

With the exception of the red skies and terrifying lightning and the earth being torn apart below, at least.

She settled back into her seat and glared at the map in front of her, willing it to reveal more information than what little they had, but it was no use.

"An hour or so left, ladies and gentlemen," Elenwe announced after a brief conversation with the navigator. "Check your gear if you've got it."

Zelda glanced around the bridge, noting for the nth time the very distinct lack of a tall, strong man who had proven himself a capable leader several times. It would not do for him to be absent for this, she decided, and stood up. She ensured Tira remained in her chair, saying she didn't need a bodyguard to cross the upper deck, left the bridge and headed for the captain's cabin.

* * *

"He looks peaceful."

Rial didn't turn around at the sound of the princess' voice, keeping his eyes firmly on Victor's face. It was pale, but his expression was indeed one of peace. He'd died with that face, and it was an expression Rial would never get out his head. "How did you get in?" he asked. He wasn't surprised by her appearance in the cabin. The cacophony of noise that had filled the cabin upon her opening the door had seen to that, but he distinctly remembered locking the door itself.

"Growing up with Sheikah protectors tends to leave you with a broad set of skills," Zelda said as she approached the bunk. "Lock picking is just one of them."

"I'm almost afraid of asking what the others are," Rial said.

"You probably shouldn't," she said, "they're not very princess-like."

He tore his gaze from Victor and looked at her. "No offense, Princess, but very little about you seems princess-like...apart from your beauty and leadership skills, that is."

She grinned at that. "I try very hard not to be a meaningless figurehead whose only purpose is to look pretty, so I will consider that a compliment. Thank you."

He resumed staring at the dead King, the person he had loved more than anything. "History will remember him as a weak-willed coward," he said. "But I know he did his best considering the circumstances. Without his meddling in the background, the rebellion would never have survived, you know. Sure, it saddled us with traitors like Iteos, but the numbers he mustered among the nobles...he saved us with that."

"I cannot imagine what he went through as Rehm's hostage," Zelda said. "And to still act so defiantly must have taken a tremendous amount of courage. I wish I'd had the opportunity to speak with him."

"Why are you here?"

It was blunt, but Rial was not inclined to indulge in small talk. The situation was far too grave for it.

"The plan," she said simply.

"The plan," he repeated monotonously. "Rehm's plan."

"Feror's plan," she corrected. "From long before he became Rehm. It is our best shot."

"You don't even know if it will work."

"Feror is a living, breathing god," she pointed out, frowning. "This was a plan he thought up while he was at the height of his power, and one he put every resource into. Why would he do that if he wasn't absolutely sure it would work?"

"Because he's insane?" Rial suggested, gesturing to the window. The entire room was coloured by the red sky outside. "What kind of a loving god, as he claims to be, would do something like this?

"Hard to say," the princess said honestly, shrugging. "I don't know how gods think. But it's worth a shot, given that we have no other options."

" _Long_ shot. And if the plan fails?"

"We die."

"My point exactly." It was an extremely hollow victory, but right now he would take anything.

"So, what you are saying is that you would rather sit and twiddle your thumbs and wait for death rather than actually try to avert the destruction of the entire world and death of all living beings?" She smiled wryly. "We're going to die anyway, so why not do something stupid to while away the time?" She looked back at Victor. "It would give you a chance at revenge, at the very least. Unless you're not interested in punishing the man responsible for this?"

He glared. "I would do anything for that!"

"Good, I will see you on the bridge, then," she said, already on her way out of the cabin. "Briefing in thirty minutes, touchdown in forty-five."

He wanted to argue with her, refuse to go along with the stupidity of it all, but he knew she was right no matter what way he looked at it. In his mind, they were all dead anyway, but perhaps there was something to the idea of avenging Victor. The mental image of Feror's head on a pike was rather appealing...and the world surviving was definitely a huge perk.

"I guess you wouldn't object to that either, I guess," he told Victor, leaning down to press a gentle kiss on his cold forehead. "And if we fail...well, I'll get to see you again much sooner, won't I?"

Win-win.

* * *

**Soul Remnants**

**Chapter 92**

* * *

"So what do we know about this place?" Zelda asked the gathered party on the bridge. There were a lot fewer volunteers for the mission than she'd liked, but given the current situation it was no surprise. All in all, there were twenty of them. Herself, Tira, Link, Sheik, Rial, Elenwe, Kafei, Ard, Lor and Jedistern, as well as the lieutenant, whose name she kept forgetting, and nine soldiers, all of whom looked decidedly pale.

"Practically nothing," Rial said, shrugging. He looked like he wanted to be anywhere but there, but at least he had shown up for the briefing, like Zelda had hoped. She knew she could count on him, even though he wouldn't be the most enthusiastic member of their little expedition...at least, not until they had Feror backed into a corner. Her treacherous mind wanted to say "if", but she forced it to say "when". She wouldn't be able to go through with this otherwise. "The place has been off-limits to everyone for a thousand years. Any written records or maps were burned. The name is the only thing we're absolutely sure of."

"Well, that is not particularly comforting," Zelda said, glowering at the map on the station between them. It showed nothing but a thick forest. Supposedly, the fortress had been built at the very middle. "Nevertheless, we must push on. We have faced similar problems before, have we not?" She directed the last question at Sheik and Link, who nodded slowly. Granted, the twisted remains of Ganondorf's castle had technically been the remains of _her_ castle and the architecture had remained somewhat similar, but...

"So, let us go through the plan in detail," Kafei said, catching her eyes with his. She felt a small wave of contempt wash up within her, but she fought it down. She had never gotten along with him, though she knew not why. True, his hurting Sheik had, as it turned out, been an accident, but it did not change the fact that it had happened, and for that she would never forgive him. "What are we going to do once we land?"

"Find the fortress, break in, find out how Feror was going to open a gate to the Sacred Realm, do that and defeat the mad god and save the world," Sheik said, keeping a straight face the entire time.

"Easy-peasy," Link added.

The group was not as optimistic, exchanging glances that only expressed doubt.

"It is a long shot," Sheik conceded. "But it is all we have. I would love for someone else to chime in with a better plan, believe me."

The reigning silence was only broken by a loud clash of thunder outside as more lightning tore the sky. They were becoming more frequent. Whatever Feror was doing, it was getting stronger.

"So there we are," Zelda said, looking at their faces. "We're going in with limited intelligence and absolutely no idea of what we are supposed to do. The only thing I am completely certain of is the fact that whatever will open the gate requires a great deal of magic, energy or otherwise. The magnitude of which I doubt I am capable of generating." She turned to look at the pair of warlocks, both so young...too young to be here, really. But if not them, then who? "Ard, Lor, it is a lot to ask of you, but do you think you can do it?"

Ard nodded, as did Lor, though a bit more hesitantly. "We'll do the best we can," the former assassin said.

They were young, but they seemed older than their years. She wondered if that even made sense. Having lived through what they had, though, she was not surprised. Link and Sheik were much the same—especially in Link's case.

"Thank you," she said. "So...that's it, I suppose. Not much of a briefing, but at least we are all on the same page now." She looked out the window at the red sky. "The fate of the world is at stake here, ladies and gentlemen. A huge responsibility has been placed on our shoulders. The chances of us walking away from this alive are remote at best...but if not us, then who?"

"No one," Sheik said. "We're the only ones who know."

"It's not every day you get the opportunity to save the world," Elenwe said cheerfully. "Imagine having that kind of reputation!"

"So," Link said loudly, holding out a hand. "Let's kick his ass!"

Sheik immediately placed his hand on top of Link's, inadvertently giving everyone a prime view of their matching rings. To their credit, no one in the group made a comment, not even when Sheik realised what he had just done and blushed a deep red. Those who could reach placed their hands on top of each other's. It felt slightly too theatrical and childish to Zelda, but it was a comforting action all the same. They were together in this. They might fail and die horribly, but they would do so _together_.

* * *

Sheik sat with Link at one of the stations, ignoring the arrows and gauges that were dancing wildly all over it, trying to signal that something was terribly wrong with the ship. His eyes were solely on the band around his right ring finger. It had been a slightly awkward moment when Link had tried to put it on at first, having forgotten that the digit where such a ring was traditionally placed wasn't there. The Hero had turned a most adorable shade of red as he berated himself for it, while Sheik had simply laughed and suggested the other hand. He studied the sapphire set in the metal, still slightly put out by the sudden...well, proposal.

Not put out in a negative sense, of course. In fact, he was delighted, even though he knew he shouldn't be, given their position and such and such. He _knew_ Zelda'd had a finger in this, but he couldn't bring himself to be annoyed with her. He would be if she insisted on having some sort of ceremony, however. The rings were enough.

Underneath the happiness he was feeling, however, there was a current of unease. More of a rapid river, really. There were so many things he worried about. The world, whether they'd survive, whether Impa and the other Sages were okay, what would happen if they won, what would happen if they won but with massive casualties... Link, however, looked positively serene. It was like everything that troubled him simply bounced off the joy of Sheik accepting his proposal. Sheik found himself jealous.

The Hero noticed, raising an eyebrow. Sheik realised Link had finally perfected imitating his usual expression. It brought a smile to his face.

"What?" Link asked.

"Nothing," Sheik replied, shaking his head. "Just...thinking."

"Uh-oh," Link said. "Bad things happen when you do that."

"Well, compared to what is happening outside..."

"Relatively mildly bad things, then," the Hero corrected himself. "Want to talk about it?"

"It will only lead us into circles, so I'd rather not," Sheik said. "Let us just say that I would do anything to feel as calm as you do."

"Calm?" Link said, frowning. "Sheik, I'm panicking right now."

Sheik looked him over, doubtful. "My eyes rarely deceive me, Hero."

"What can I say, I've learned from you," the Hero said, giving him a grin. "Now we can both be mysterious, stone-faced warriors. Maybe I should start wearing a cowl."

"And teach young, future heroes-in-the-making ancient words of wisdom and music, and guide them on their paths?" Sheik suggested. The smile still hadn't died.

"I can be just as Sheikah-like as you, you know," Link continued. "I just have to get a lyre and learn how to play it."

"There's more to being a Sheikah than playing the lyre, Link."

"You could have fooled me."

They laughed, and were joined by the others on the bridge as well, who had been privy to their conversation. Normally, this would have embarrassed Sheik, but now he just laughed harder. Whether it was a desperate laugh fuelled by the terror he was feeling, he did not know. The idea of facing Armageddon with a contemptuous laugh was definitely appealing, though.

"May I have a word?" Jedistern asked as he seated himself at the station next to theirs. "I have studied the weapon you gave me."

"And?" Sheik asked.

"Devious," the engineer replied, shaking his head in dismay. "Basically a miniature cannon. Not particularly elegant in its construction, but certainly effective at short range. At a distance it is quite difficult to aim. And you say Rehm...er...Feror, murdered the King with this?"

"He did," Sheik confirmed. "And from many paces away as well, firing upwards."

"Hmph, god indeed," Jedistern growled. He pulled the damnable tube from his pocket and handed it to Sheik. It looked...different. "I've made some modifications that will make it easier to use. Pull that trigger, and it will light a spark, igniting the pre-packed powder and ball I've added. Also, aiming should be easier with the sight I've taken the liberty of mounting. You want to hit something, make sure it's between those two little tabs."

Sheik stared at the weapon. "You did all that in, what, an hour and a half?"

"I don't condone murder," Jedistern said seriously. "But given everything this Feror has done...well, the irony that he should be killed with his own weapon would be too poetic to ignore. Just make sure you hit."

With that, the engineer got up from his seat and went to talk with Elenwe at the wheel. Link and Sheik exchanged glances. Sheik pocketed the weapon, and Link nodded. The Hero wanted nothing to do with it. It was no big surprise—it was definitely more of an assassin's tool than that of a chosen warrior of the Goddesses.

The jokes began to flow again, the sort of black humour that only those who know they might be going to their deaths can produce.

The upbeat atmosphere was not long-lived. The mood died the second another of the engines gave a loud hiccup before exploding, rocking the ship from side to side as the crew tried to keep the hull from being shaken apart. Those who were unable to grab hold of something were tossed around like ragdolls. Luckily, Elenwe managed to wrestle back control of _The Chimera_ before any serious damage to the hull be done.

"Shit!" the captain shouted. "We lost number three! We're dead in the air without it!"

"I don't think that will matter very much, captain!" an officer said. "We're losing altitude, fast!"

Sheik felt a distinct tickle in his stomach, which quickly developed into full-on nausea and panic when the realisation sunk in. This damnable thing was going to be the death of him after all. His hands gripped his chair tightly to the point where he was certain the metal would bend under his fingers.

"Some debris must have torn the balloon," Elenwe said, cursing loudly and rather creatively. "Good thing we're close to the destination!"

 _Oh good, we're going to die on Feror's doorstep,_ Sheik thought. _How convenient._

"Everyone strap in!" Elenwe barked before leaning forwards. "This is the captain speaking," she yelled into the array of tubes in front of her. They had no idea how many of them were still intact, but it was worth a shot. "Brace for impact. This isn't going to be pretty."

* * *

It was far from a graceful landing. It was more of a crash, really, but one of the airmen had said that any landing you could walk away from was a good one.

That said, true to Elenwe's words, it could not have looked pretty from afar. The bow ploughed into the ground, kicking up massive amounts of dirt and snow, bringing down trees that had grown in peace for a thousand years, snapping their trunks like twigs. The moorings for the balloon snapped, and branches on all sides punctured it. What little air that remained was released, and the balloon draped itself across the deck like a blanket, obscuring the windows of the bridge.

With nothing holding up the weight of the ship, the rest of the structure hit the ground and the bow snapped off. A boiler ruptured, and steam flooded the corridors below deck. The last of the engines and thrusters misfired and exploded, littering the forest floor behind the ship with debris.

What remained of the ship eventually came to a stop a whole minute after the initial impact, and then tipped sideways.

And that was the final flight of _The Chimera_. As far as everyone on board was concerned, that was a good thing.

* * *

Sheik adjusted the straps of his swords and made a final count of his daggers and knives (six) before throwing on a cloak to protect himself from the cold. He climbed out of the wreckage of what had once been _The Chimera_ 's bridge and dropped to the ground, joining the others who had gathered just below the structure, sheltering themselves from the wind.

It was freezing cold—it felt like his fingernails were about to fall off, even with the thick gloves he was wearing. His clothes were of little help in general to keep the chill out, and it seemed like the others were feeling much the same, judging by their shivering and the sound of their teeth chattering. The red skies made the forest around them look alien and forbidding. The thick undergrowth only helped to make it seem like a forbidden place. The ground was shaking, though not nearly as violently as it had in the places where the earth itself had been torn apart. Lightning struck often, and even here they could see the light of the burning fires in the distance, lighting up the clouds above with shimmering orange.

"There's no time to lose," Zelda announced. "Where are we?"

"I think it's due north," Rial said, pointing in a seemingly arbitrary direction. "Can't be sure, though. Honestly, I'm not even sure where north is at the moment, the sky is too alien for me to read."

"Problem solved," Elenwe said as she reached into her pack and drew out the ship's compass, which had been ripped from its pedestal on the bridge in the crash. Her triumphant smile died when the arrow refused to stop moving, spinning erratically every which way, making it useless. "Piece of shit," she said, tossing the thing back into the wreckage.

"Seems the area interferes with magnetism," Jedistern noted, looking slightly miffed that the Gerudo hadn't offered it to him to fix. "Strange..." He paused. "But wait, magical energies can have that effect at times, according to some papers I've read on the subject. Perhaps the more magically inclined among us can figure out where we should go?"

Sheik closed his eyes, concentrating. There was definitely a more...ambient presence of energy in this part of Lumina, but his senses weren't even nearly fine-tuned enough to point him in a specific direction. Luckily, Lor's senses must have been much like the compass Elenwe had tossed away, for he immediately pointed in another direction.

"There's something over there," he said, looking to Ard for confirmation. "Something huge. I can't tell exactly what it is, but if it's some sort of nexus for the Nodes, I'd bet my last coin on it."

"Then let us move immediately," Link said, already carving a path through the snow towards their target. "Every second wasted here is more irreparable damage done to the world."

Sheik immediately moved to catch up to him, helping him beat down the snow to make it easier for the others to move. It was slow going, and they were soon soaked to the bone as the snow melted into their boots and clothes. No one spoke as they trudged through the thick woods, using torches to light their way. The eerie glow of the sky made everything seem so oppressive and hopeless—the colour of blood, to match that which was flowing all over the world at that very moment.

Several times they had to stop and rest. The night had worn them all down, and their biggest task still lay ahead of them like the tallest mountain, waiting for them to climb it. Rial was still heavily weighed down by his grief, and though he tried to put on a face that simply showed glee at the prospect of avenging the King, it was all too obvious. Sheik himself was already physically exhausted, but his mind wouldn't stop trying to analyse and make sense of everything he had learned in the past twenty-four hours and how it ruined his perception of the world.

It didn't help that the forest itself seemed to be working against them. If it weren't thick branches and trunks blocking their path, it was a wide stream filled with black, ice-cold water rushing by, or deep sheets of snow that threatened to swallow them should they take a single miscalculated step. They lost two of the soldiers in the stream, which was surprisingly deep One second they were there, the other they were not. They tried to pull them up, but it was as if they had simply disappeared, pulled down into the black depths by their heavy mail.

Sheik knew better than to think about it any more than he absolutely had to. It was important to acknowledge their deaths and move on. Getting bogged down with the losses, like the two men's comrades, would only slow them down and ruin morale. He kept a close eye on Link after this, however, knowing that the Hero was wearing mail beneath his tunic. He'd be damned if he was going to let something as mundane as a stream kill the man he loved.

The wind died as they got closer to their goal, leaving them with nothing but eerie silence that was broken every now and then by loud cracking sounds...and of course the thunder, which sounded more like explosions, as if they were right beneath the storms. There were no stars now; all obscured by the thick layer of clouds that seemed to be spinning slowly, high above them. Sheik had never seen cloud formations like it before, and looking at them filled him with dread.

The group's heavy breathing and cracking snow beneath their feet filled his ears. No one spoke, not after the two deaths. They paused now and then to allow Lor to confirm the direction they were going in was the right one, and only for that.

"Look."

Tira was the first person to speak as they crested a hill and reached a clearing.

Sheik's breath caught in his throat. A Node stood in the middle of the clearing, but this one was unlike the others he had seen. Easily five times bigger than the others, it stood just as high as the ancient trees around it, its base thicker than five of the trees put together. There were no carvings on this one, but the stone was polished, black marble, reflecting the light of their torches as they approached it. Sheik's head positively hummed with the energy contained within, even from twenty feet away. It felt like the obelisk was staring down at them, judging them.

"I guess it was the right direction," Kafei said, pinching the bridge of his nose to stave off the inevitable headache that being near such massive quantities of magic would induce. "What now?"

"This isn't the fortress," Lor said, looking around the clearing. "This is just...a part of it."

"Then where is it?" Jedistern asked.

Ard cleared his throat, drawing the attention of everyone. He pointed at the Node, and then down at his feet.

"Below?" Rial asked.

"Underground," Zelda breathed. "Of course. Feror didn't want to draw attention to himself while he built the fortress. How would one do that? Do it all below the earth."

"That's all well and good, but how do we get inside?" Sheik asked. "We don't have the equipment or time to dig."

"There has to be some sort of entrance somewhere," Elenwe said. "I mean, where else would his followers and such enter?"

"We should spread out and search," Zelda said. "Inform the rest if you find something."

Sheik could think of a thousand things he'd rather be doing than stumbling through thick snow, trying to find something resembling an entrance in the hillside. Most of them involved, to his puzzlement, a very old, fuzzy blanket he'd possessed as a child. He'd been forced to leave it behind when Ganondorf attacked, but he'd hardly given it a second thought at the time. Now all he wanted to do was to wrap himself in it and sit in front of a roaring fire, preferably with a second set of arms around him. The daydream was cut short as he stumbled over an accursed root beneath the snow and tumbled down the hill, his clothes filling up with the white shit and soaking and freezing him even more.

He eventually came to a stop at the bottom of the hill, facedown in a deep bank. Muttering curses, he pulled himself to his feet and tried to dig out the snow that had yet to melt from his clothes, to no great success. He sighed miserably and made to climb back up the hill when he noticed something in the snow bank he'd fallen into. Something black... He brushed more snow aside and saw what was there. A body, facedown on the ground. Sheik rolled it over.

The man had been dead for a long time, it seemed, his skin turned black by the cold. It was impossible to tell if his passing had been peaceful or not, his expression twisted by the season and frost, but his opened throat suggested it was the latter. His hands were bound behind his back.

 _An execution, then,_ Sheik thought, shaking his head. _Slit his throat from behind. Didn't even have the decency to hack his head off for an instant, painless death._

The snow bank still looked suspicious to him, and he continued to dig at the snow with his hands. Three more bodies, two women and another man, all bound and killed in the same manner as the first. Their clothes looked uniform—rough and clearly meant for wear and tear. No weapons or tools, but a strange emblem of a hammer and a brush were sewn onto the right side of their jackets' breasts. He had never seen it before, but he'd bet his life that these people had not been soldiers or fighters of any kind.

"Sheik, you okay down there?!" Link called from atop the hill.

"I've found bodies!" he called back, waving up at him. "Get the others!"

They all came stumbling and tripping down the hill, though none of them took the way of face planting that Sheik had. Sheik prayed that none of them had seen his, frankly, disgraceful descent. Impa would have been in stitches...or made him do it nine more times to imprint to his memory how _not_ to do it ever again. The thought of his aunt brought him back to reality, and they were soon examining the dead men and women closely.

"Terrible way to die," Rial noted glumly. "Killers didn't even have the decency to bury 'em. At least the wolves didn't decide to have a snack."

"Who were they?" Tira asked.

"Members of the newly established archaeology guild," Jedistern said, pointing at the emblem. "That is their symbol. I helped them organise and start the guild a few years ago."

"Archaeology?" Zelda said.

"Oh, you know, digging up old, forgotten villages and cities, trying to learn about the people who lived there. Quite fascinating at times, really, though largely a long series of disappointments only occasionally broken up by the excitement of finding an old arrow tip or, if you're really lucky, an ancient outhouse." The engineer frowned. "I guess these poor souls decided to see what there was to dig up in the Hall, only to be waylaid by bandits."

"Or someone hired them to," Link said. "Maybe Rehm...er...Feror sent them?"

"Then why kill them?" Sheik asked. "Anyway, it does not matter. Let us see if they had time to dig before they died."

They didn't have to search long. A long ditch had been dug from a seemingly random point in the ground, leading towards the hill itself. Just before the terrain began to rise, the ditch widened into a larger, deeper hole about the size of a house's foundations. And down there, at the bottom of the pit, surrounded by tools and other equipment, was the entrance. A large, rough stone portal leading into the darkness below the hill, looking more like a pit into a bottomless abyss than a doorway. There were carvings, jagged and unwelcoming. A chilling wind, even colder than the one blowing through the trees, seemed to flow from the entrance, and Sheik felt nothing but dread as he observed it. It felt so...alien.

"So...what are we going to find inside?" Tira said, looking uncertain. The same expression was on everyone's faces...except Rial's.

The general scowled, drawing his sword. "It had better be what we're looking for," he said and strode inside, disappearing in the darkness. "Come on!" his voice echoed from within.

Link steeled himself and followed quickly, not about to be outdone in bravery.

One by one, the others followed, each filled with a foreboding sense of impending doom, as if everything would change after this.

But then, they already had.

* * *

**Soul Remnants**

**Chapter 93**

* * *

Even with the torches they carried, replaced by the diggers and removed from their sconces, the tunnel beyond the doorway was oppressively dark, the shadows creeping up on them like predatory creatures, threatening to swallow them should their lights go out. They walked two by two in a tight column, though the tunnel itself was wider enough for ten people walking astride. The walls were plain stone with no decoration, but polished to a sheen that had not lost its lustre even after a thousand years of burial. The archaeologists' tools littered the floor at certain paces along with piles of excavated dirt and stone. The floor showed signs of having been cobbled, but the diggers had not bothered to remove the soil completely, leaving only patches to be seen by the group.

They walked in silence. It was a mixture of dread, fear and the sheer sensation of knowing where they were that kept them quiet. This place hadn't seen the living for so long, it almost felt wrong to sully the moment with words.

In Sheik's case, however, it was different. As far as he was concerned, the Hall of Silence should have remained buried. It felt...wrong to walk here, to see the ancient stonework and earth. The darkness down here was different, almost oily in its appearance, and he could not see much farther than the others, despite his Sheikah eyes. A cursory glance at Kafei had yielded a shrug—his cousin was not seeing much either.

The hum of the gigantic Node could still be felt down here, though much more muted, which he was thankful for. It had been distracting above ground, and he knew they would all need to be on their guards in the Hall.

He had underestimated the size of the fortress. He had expected the tunnel beyond the door to simply lead a short distance to a door that opened into the main part of the fortress itself, but he had been wrong. Instead, the tunnel curved slightly in what seemed to be a spiral, the floor angled slightly downwards. They were going around and around the node, deeper and deeper underground. They had walked for twenty minutes already, and they had yet to even reach a proper gate, much less any sort of living quarters for those who had dwelled within.

Eventually, they did find the real entrance, and it could only be described as intimidating. Black stone, taller than three men and wider than five, covered in carvings of various scenes of torture and death. A great bar, thick as a tree trunk, had been mounted across it, strengthened with sheets of a type of metal Sheik had never seen before, faintly red in colour. It looked formidable, and he had no doubt that it would take nothing less than the strength of an army to break it traditionally.

The others paid more attention to the strange pedestal mounted in the floor in front of the gate, however. There was a strange, circular hole in it, and it stretched down into the ground, tapering at the bottom. Pickaxes and levers were spread around the pedestal, showing signs of wear and tear.

"Something was removed from here," Zelda noted, crouching down and running her finger along the rim of the hollow. "An object of great power."

"Same circumference as that protruding bit of the door Feror opened at the peak," Sheik added, having studied the hole closer. "Some sort of key, perhaps?"

"Why place it here, though?" Elenwe asked. "If this Feror was such a terror, ha-ha, why would the key to his powers be so terribly hidden?"

"No idea," Sheik said, turning back to the door. A large saw lay on the floor below the bar, and a thin track had cut through the wood. "But it is of no consequence for us right now. I am far more interested in the fact that the archaeologists were sawing through the bar." He pointed at the work that had been done. "They nearly succeeded, too. Killed just before they finished."

"A pity, perhaps their success could have made things easier for us," Jedistern said. For a man of science who supposedly disliked magic greatly, he was taking all this in great stride. He had accepted the story about Feror with no hesitation and seemed unconcerned by the idea of fighting him. Perhaps he was simply humouring them all.

"Or unleashed something even worse," Sheik said, walking closer to the gate and studying the great hinges. Cold seemed to emanate from it, chilling him even worse than the snow outside. His suspicion was confirmed when he found what he was looking for. "This door swings outwards," he said and pointed at the bar. "Whoever mounted this was not trying to keep intruders out; they were trying to keep something in."

A sudden desire to get as far away as possible from the gate seized him then, and he quickly found himself standing beside Link, who had been silent all throughout their investigations. What sort of devilry would opening this gate reveal?

"Are there any stories of something terrible being sealed within this place?" Kafei asked, looking at Rial. The general shrugged.

"Not as I recall, but I'm hardly the person to go to for history lessons," he said, walking up to the bar and looking at the saw track. "But I'm sure that whatever's behind there died a long time ago, and we will suffer that fate too if we don't open this damn gate." He drew his sword and tested its thickness in the track. It fit easily. "Shall I do the honours?" he asked.

"By all means, general," Zelda said. "We have come too far to stop here."

Rial raised his blade over his head with a firm, two-handed grip. Steeling himself, he brought it down on the remnants of the bar with a great roar. The sword cut through the wood as easily as a hot knife through butter, and the steel struck the floor with a loud ringing sound. The bar, cleft in two, toppled from its wedges and clattered in the dirt. The general sheathed his sword and grabbed on the rings, giving the others a look.

"What, am I supposed to open this thing by myself? It's bloody heavy!"

Tira, Kafei and Link joined him, pulling on the ring and groaning from the strain. Little by little, one of the massive doors began to move, groaning loudly as stone ground against stone. It occurred to Sheik as he watched the door that it seemed to fit perfectly into the portal in which it had been mounted. It would almost be like a seal in itself, airtight...

"Wait!" he said, but it was too late.

Rial and the others gave one last pull with all their strength, and it was as if the door 'popped' out of its track, swinging open so fast and abruptly it knocked them over. And then the entire room was filled with a roar as a great wind blew from the tunnel behind them, rushing in through the gate so fast that Sheik felt like they were being sucked into the room beyond. He grabbed the rim of the pedestal, holding on for dear life, wondering what the hell was going on.

It ended as abruptly as it began, and the room was once again quiet, the loudest sounds being that of the group's fast breathing. It had caught them all by surprise, but it did not seem that death and destruction was about to burst through the gate, so they calmly got back to their feet, keeping a close eye on the blackness beyond. A couple of torches had gone out, but they were quickly relit.

Jedistern laughed, making everyone look at him.

"A vacuum," he explained between chuckles. "The rooms beyond were hermetically sealed, meaning there was no air inside. When we opened the door, as in popped the seal, air from the tunnel was sucked in to equalize the pressure. That's what the wind was, nothing dangerous." He coughed. "Though how they were able to do that on such a scale is beyond me."

"Could something have survived in there?" Sheik asked. There was an odd sound coming from beyond the gate, but only he seemed to hear it.

"Without air? Hardly. Believe me when I say it, Lord Sheikah, that there will be absolutely nothing waiting for us on the other side. At least, nothing alive."

"Right, let's get moving, then," Link said. He picked up his torch and drew his sword. "Stay alert."

Together, they walked through the mighty portal.

* * *

"Goddesses!"

The exclamation summed up their feelings on what they found beyond the gate. They had gotten so turned around by the spiralling tunnel above that they had absolutely no idea how far below the surface they were, but they were definitely deeper than most mines. The chamber beyond was simply gigantic, easily fitting hundreds upon hundreds of people, and slightly egg-shaped with curved walls. The ceiling was so high above them they could scarcely see it. The dominating feature was the bottom part of the huge Node, stretching down from the ceiling and plunging firmly into the floor at the very centre of the chamber. It glowed a shimmering blue at the base, lighting up the immediate area around it. Sheik briefly wondered if the monolith went even further into the earth below them.

But as impressive as the Node was, it was not what had prompted the princess of Hyrule to proclaim her shock. It was the bodies.

Death must have come to them instantaneously, most of them standing upright. Some of their arms were stretched towards the Node, as if touching it would save them. Others were clutching each other desperately, seeking comfort. Many were on their knees with their hands clasped together in prayer, while several lay on the floor, having writhed and contorted themselves in their dying moment. At first glance, they may have been wax statues, but they were far too realistic for that. Their eyes were closed, some tightly, like they had been blinded by something.

There were so many of them...occupying almost every inch of the floor space save for the small path leading from the gate to the base of the Node, where a small altar rested on a raised dais. Three more paths stretched from the Node in the four compass directions to doors.

"What...happened to these people?" Lor asked when he finally found his voice. Even for an assassin, this was a shocking sight.

Jedistern approached one of the dead—a woman—and looked her up and down, studying her closely. He carefully reached out and touched the naked skin of her face. It sounded like someone running a finger along rough paper.

"Mummified," the engineer said and turned back to them. "The vacuum and low temperature would have prevented them from decomposing." He looked uncomfortable, probably bothered by the sheer quantity of bodies. "But now that we've introduced air again..."

The implication was unpleasant, and Sheik suppressed a shudder. At a quick glance, he counted at least eight hundred, perhaps more lying on the floor. Goddesses knew if there were even more through the doors that lined the walls, probably leading to living quarters and barracks. What had happened to these people?

"Who were they?" Zelda asked no one in particular, her face grim and stony. Sheik had a feeling that she wanted to leave the room and seal it up forever.

"Feror's followers, perhaps?" Rial suggested. "Their clothes are...ancient."

"But why are they here? Why are they dead?" Link demanded. He looked ready to throw up. Sheik understood—some of the dead weren't as well preserved as the majority, looking eerily like ReDead with sunken eyeholes and seemingly shrunken skin, with which the Hero had had numerous encounters in the past. "And who killed them? Or what?"

"The Goddesses," Kafei said. It was difficult to say if it was a suggestion or an accusation.

Zelda glared at him. "That's blasphemy!"

The Sheikah looked at her, shrugging. "Given everything we've learned about the Goddesses these past few days, does it surprise you that they would do something like this? How do you best ensure that no one decides to rebel like Feror and his followers did? By ensuring that no one lives to incite another." He looked around the room, biting his lip. "They turned his fortress into a tomb."

"They didn't secure it very well," Elenwe noted. "A bar and a heavy door? Not very difficult to break in."

"The Royal Family was supposed to keep people away from this place," Rial said sourly. "And they have done so all this time. It wouldn't have been necessary with any other security measures, and if the Goddesses were dying..."

"No point in debating," Ard said and stepped onto the path, walking towards the Node with Lor on his heels. "Let's get to work."

No one could argue against that, and they followed the pair of warlocks, trying not to touch the mummified inhabitants of the fortress.

"Perhaps the less magically inclined of us should explore the other doors?" Jedistern suggested. He was clearly fascinated with the place, dead people and all. "I doubt my engineering skills or knowledge of physics will come of use here." He was already eyeing one of the doors with interest in his eyes.

 _Perhaps he's a bit of an archaeologist after all,_ Sheik thought.

"Right there with you, professor," Elenwe said. She was joined by the remaining soldiers and the lieutenant, who split up and went through two of the doors.

Sheik paused roughly halfway to the dais, frowning. The sound was louder, and it was starting to become clearer. It was as if someone was...whispering? Yes, it was like someone whispering indistinct words into his ear.

"You hear it too?" Kafei asked quietly, suddenly beside him. The others were still approaching the dais, leaving them to their relative privacy.

"What is it?" Sheik asked.

"I'm certain the professor would offer a different theory than mine," Kafei said, "but I would bet my last rupee that it's the souls of those who died in this room."

"Their souls?" Sheik asked, looking around. "Then how come I cannot see them? Can you?"

"No," Kafei shook his head. "Souls are very fragile things...imagine what could happen to them if they were trapped down here for so long, unable to get out. If they were forced to relieve their last moments over and over...well, I would certainly have gone insane, and imagine that the life force was slowly drained from them. What we're hearing might just be their echoes...or what little shreds of insanity that remain."

A shiver went down Sheik's spine. It added another measure of horror to the already terrifying chamber. "Don't tell anyone," he said. "They might not be able to hear them like we can, but the last thing we need is someone panicking."

"Fair enough," Kafei agreed. "Perhaps opening the gate will have some positive effect, though. Maybe they will finally find their way out, some small measure of peace if they are still even aware of themselves."

Sheik hoped they would.

* * *

There was a book on the altar, a thick, ancient-looking tome that might as well have been a brick. The pages crackled when they turned, some falling apart with the slightest touch, and were filled with text in a language no one had spoken for a long time. And it was absolutely useless.

"I can't read this," Zelda stated to the general murmur of agreement from the others.

"Typical," Kafei said. "Just our luck, really."

"Not even a bloody diagram," the princess said, slamming the tome shut. A blast of dust shot out from between the pages. She put it back on the altar, though not very carefully. "I realise it was misguided optimism, but I really did hope that we would find something to explain everything to us."

"Can't say I'm surprised," Link said. He was sitting on the edge of the dais, looking dejected. He was trying to avoid looking at the bodies, but seeing as they were everywhere...

At the other end of the room, one of the doors opened and Elenwe and her group came walking out, shaking her head. "Well, we found where they slept," she announced.

"Anything useful?" Sheik asked.

"Just more bodies," she replied. "But those ones seemed to have suffocated rather than...whatever happened to these poor bastards."

"Probably had something to do with the Nexus," Lor said, looking up from whatever he and Ard were doing. "They all seem to be looking at it."

"Possibly," Zelda agreed.

"Instant," Ard added.

"Anyway, this passage is useless," Elenwe said, gesturing to the door she had emerged from. "I'm taking these two and checking out the last door." The soldiers were unceremoniously dragged through the last door.

Sheik sat beside Link, sighing. "Some mess this is."

"You could say that again," Link replied. "I really thought this would work."

"Should have been on the third step of the kicking Feror's arse part of the plan by now, right?"

"Definitely. Actually, we should have been on our way home by now. That's how it works. You go in, you do the thing, beat the creature and then you're teleported out...or home, preferably."

"I think the temples really spoiled you," Sheik said, grinning slightly, though it wasn't sincere. The mood was far too subdued for any real levity.

"Is it really too much to ask for some sort of standard being applied to these things?" the Hero said.

"Apparently."

The words felt cheap and unconvincing—meaningless banter crushed the oppressive nature of the situation. They'd come this far, only to hit a dead end. The solution had to be here, it had to! And it definitely involved that big hunk of black marble in the middle of the chamber, but so far nothing seemed to be working. And the blasted thing was practically mocking them with its pulses of energy, which made the light it emitted waver and ripple. Sheik glared at it. He hated Lumina and wished he'd never come here.

* * *

"Are you sure?" Lor asked quietly, ensuring no one else could hear them. "If we're wrong, it could backfire."

Ard looked around the chamber. "Already did."

That caused the former assassin to take a closer look at the bodies. "You think...you think they tried to do it too?"

"After being imprisoned," Ard clarified.

It was just a theory of his, probably, but Lor could definitely see Ard's train of thought regarding this. "Can we do it?"

Ard shrugged. "Have to try."

It was hard to argue with that, Lor decided. They were going to die anyway, and he supposed that the instantaneous way the backfire could kill them was better than being swallowed by the ground or burning to death. He nodded to Ard and went to the princess. "Your Highness?" he asked carefully. He was not sure how to address the princess of Hyrule, who was unlike any of the royals he had been taught about as an assassin.

"Yes?" she asked, smiling at him.

"We think we've found the solution," he said. "But it's risky."

"How so?"

"We've been...probing the Nexus with our magic to investigate, and it seems that activating it requires a massive burst of power, aimed with fine precision. It would be like threading a needle, only the eye of the needle is a thousand times smaller than usual."

"And this will accomplish what, exactly?"

"I hate to say it, but we have no idea. There seems to be a great build-up of energy in the rock, and if we manage to funnel enough of our own magic into the right spot...well, perhaps it will act like a spark in a powder keg and unleash it."

The princess took a minute to think about this. He didn't blame her. It was a difficult matter.

"Can you do it?" Zelda asked.

"We think so, but...if we fail, there's a good chance we'll end up like these people."

The princess frowned. "Is that what happened to them?"

"It's possible," Lor said, shrugging. "We don't know for sure."

There was a long pause as Zelda mulled it over. "And you're sure there's no other way?"

"It's the only one we know of, and we don't have much time to figure out something else. We can try looking some more, but who knows if we'll find anything before it's too late?"

Zelda groaned and massaged her temples. "Just once I'd like things to go our way without death lurking at every turn. Do you need my help?"

"It'll be difficult enough with the two of us, I don't think adding a third influence will improve things. No offense."

"None taken," Zelda said, smiling. "Please get ready, I will inform the others."

Ard was looking at him when he returned. Lor never ceased to be amazed by just how much meaning the silver-haired teen could put into one look. He supposed it came naturally to someone who did not speak very much, relying on their twin brother for the verbal side of communication. After Erd's death, he had only gotten better, apparently.

"I know," he told Ard. "She's telling the others."

It was taking too long, it seemed, for Ard immediately put his hands on the Nexus and closed his eyes. Lor did the same, used to the other boy's impulsiveness by now. He took a deep breath and reached out with his magic, gently probing at the Nexus'...and then he was in.

It was like being submerged into dark, foggy and turbulent water. No visibility, his eyes were useless. They had to rely on their other senses to navigate, to find what they were looking for. A veritable storm was brewing within the Nexus, all the magical energy of Lumina being drained and trapped inside with nowhere to go. Sooner or later, it would burst. Lor could only hope today wasn't that day. If the people in the chamber had been killed by blowback from the Nexus, the amount of energy released would have been negligible compared to what could be unleashed should he and Ard do something wrong now.

It was a big responsibility, and the longer Lor fumbled uselessly around in the stormy sea, the more he became sure that he would not be up for the job. It was only recently that he had begun to truly use magic, but now he was expected to exert control as precise as a surgeon with their scalpel...only far more dangerous.

Something to his left. A horrible scream of agony, followed by several others. Fingers clawed at him—not to do him harm, but to hold on, like a rescuing branch in a wild river. Gods, was this where the people in the chamber had gone? Their life force drawn inside the Nexus and trapped there for a thousand years? It made him nauseous, the idea of being imprisoned in such a place. He wanted to leave, wanted to get out of his horrible place, tell the princess that it was impossible, that there was little point in trying, that...

Ard's presence was like a lighthouse, shining brightly through the darkness of the storm, chasing away the ghosts of the past and clearing the waters around them enough to find the eye of the needle—a point so small it would not be visible to the naked eye even with the most powerful of telescopes.

Ard's magic—an infinitely bright shade of blue that almost appeared white—flared up, and his hand found Lor's, gripping it tightly, both to prepare...and for comfort. This was it, the point of not return. Lor focused on the point, concentrating. It would take every ounce of control he could muster.

Then it began. Ard sent his magic through their physical connection. It was like being struck by lightning; his hand burned. It spread from there throughout his entire body until Lor redirected, forcing it out through the palm he was resting on the Nexus. Clenching his jaw, he began to shape and mould it, making it thinner and thinner until it was like a string of pure light. The action made the burning subside, replaced by a tingling sensation that made his heart beat faster. It was like the healing magic all over again, only far more intense. His cheeks heated up, his core temperature rising. Finally, when he deemed the string thin enough, he forced it through the aperture and into the Nexus—and fed it.

"I've made the connection," he heard himself say, the sound of his voice seemingly thousands of miles away. "More, Ard!"

The other warlock responded immediately by increasing his output. The burning returned, and Lor knew that if they were not careful they could both end up getting hurt from this...not to mention the disaster that would occur if the Nexus backfired. His teeth grinded against each other as he tried to fight the temptation of simply releasing all of Ard's energy at once—gods knew what would happen then.

"Something is happening to the Nexus!" a voice that sounded like Sheik's announced. "Call the others!"

A spark—a reaction! Lor's heart skipped a beat, expecting backlash, but none came. It was like a slow burn, occurring somewhere inside the stone. It needed more—much more.

"Ard," he said, and the response was instantaneous. It felt like his insides were beginning to char, and a whimper of pain escaped from him. Ard's energy wavered for a second, his worry apparent. "Don't worry about me, just keep going," Lor forced out. What if stopping had been what killed the others? Even so, he couldn't keep all the power Ard was feeding him, and it had to go somewhere. There was only one thing for it, really. Into the Nexus it went, and it certainly had an effect. The slow burn turned into a steady fire, burning brightly. But it still wasn't enough! Lor steeled himself.

"Ard...all you've got."

"Are you sure?"

"...no, but do it anyway."

However bad it had been before, suddenly being host to all of Ard's strength at once was pure torture. How could the silver-haired boy possibly walk around like this all the time? He could barely concentrate, his body screaming in protest against the foreign magic, nearly shutting down to stop it from doing any damage.

Just a little more, he thought. A little more, and it will work!

Gasping in pain, he refocused on the aperture, steeled himself...and pushed.

* * *

The part of the Nexus in the clearing hummed loudly, the noise akin to a metallic roar, as it lit up. The blue light was blinding, outshining even the red sky and burning fires in Lumina. All eyes were drawn to the spectacle. Electricity danced along the black marble, and runes in a long-forgotten language came to life in the stone. The humming grew louder and louder until it reached a frequency so high it could shatter glass.

And then it fired. From above, the magical energy would appear to follow a grid-like pattern, spreading from Node to Node, connecting them all into a gigantic network—a titanic net, formed from thousands of the obelisks. The energy bound them all together, feeding them until the Nodes glowed as brightly as the Nexus, building up the pressure until they released it all simultaneously.

Pillars of light shot into the sky, forming the same pattern in the clouds above, like a giant, cracked window. And down these pillars, slithered the golden rays of the Sacred Realm. A hole had been in torn in the fabric of reality, forcing the two realms of existence to occupy the same dimension for the first time. The portal was open.

And there it stayed, for the entire world to see.

* * *

Sheik opened his eyes, his head spinning. He was lying on the floor, which was cold, and the sound of distant running water and waterfalls filled his ears. His vision was blurred, but it quickly cleared up once he realised what had happened.

The portal had been opened, but not in the way they had expected. Instead of a literal doorway opening to allow them entrance to the Sacred Realm, there had been an explosion. It had erupted from the base of the Nexus, enveloping them, at which point he had blacked out. The realisation made him look around, noticing there were more people lying next to him.

Someone cleared their throat.

Feror was sitting on the floor in front of them, about twenty paces away, looking quite puzzled. Speil was hovering behind him, looking apprehensive.

The Sacred Realm had changed. Gone were the waterfalls, the white marble, the calming surroundings. It was all replaced by a white, limitless void that seemed to stretch on forever in all directions. Had it not been the shadows cast by Speil and Feror, Sheik would have had difficulty even seeing the floor.

As they climbed to their feet, Feror did the same, though his movements were less graceful and controlled than they had during their last encounter. The god looked exhausted, his eyelids heavy. Worry lines marred the visage he had surely strived to perfect. His fists clenched and unclenched as he observed the group—which was smaller than Sheik remembered it to be.

Of the ones who had entered the Hall of Silence, only himself, Link, Zelda, Tira, Rial, Kafei, Ard and Lor had been transported to the Sacred Realm by the portal. What had happened to Elenwe, Jedistern, the lieutenant and the soldiers remained unknown, but it probably had something to do with the fact that they had not been in the main chamber at the time. Hopefully, they had not been harmed.

"You're back," Feror said, his voice curious and every so slightly impressed. "I did not expect this."

"You should have hid your activities better," Rial said, sword in hand. "We found your little hideout."

Feror frowned. "Ah, yes, the Hall... I should have had that place demolished the second I took possession of the stone, but I did not assume anyone would actually attempt to go there, much less succeed in activating the Nexus. How did you...?" He focused on Ard and Lor, both of whom looked close to passing out, leaning heavily on each other. "Ah...and here I believed that the anti-magic sentiments I have so carefully cultivated over the past few centuries would weed out individuals like them." Within the blink of an eye, he was suddenly standing in the middle of the group, in front of the two warlocks.

Sheik tried to react, tried to draw his blades, but he once again found himself paralyzed, that damnable power of Feror's keeping him firmly in place.

"Hm, I know you from Agon's reports," Feror said, reaching out and brushing Ard's bangs from his face, pulling down the cowl to reveal his face fully. "Such power in such a small being...I would very much like to learn more about you..." He looked at Lor next, looking unimpressed. "You, on the other hand...not much to say about your potential. Great control, certainly, but negligible stores." He sighed. "You have suffered great losses, both of you."

He was in front of the entire group now, and the paralysis suddenly let go off Ard, who fell to his knees, looking confused and blinking furiously.

"I know the pain of loss all too well," Feror said, looking at Ard. "In my long life, I have had everything taken from me. You have lost...a mother, and a brother—and it cuts deep into you. I can see the wounds, plain as day. You feel alone, abandoned. Sometimes you even wish you had died along with your twin."

"So?" Ard said acidly, glaring at the god.

Feror smiled in a manner that was probably meant to be benevolent, though it came off as superior more than anything.

"I can bring them back," he said triumphantly. "Your adoptive mother, your twin brother...alive and well. You will never feel alone again. All you have to do is swear fealty to me...I could use someone like you, down there, when the reshaping is over." He looked at the others. "That goes for the rest of you as well—I will repeat my offer; all those who you have lost, I can bring back, provided you live and breathe only for me." He returned his gaze to Ard. "What say you? Fealty for immortality, power, and your family."

Ard hesitated, and Sheik did not blame him at all for that. Who could say no to such an offer, especially after everything the warlock had been through? It was said the bond of twins were so much stronger than that of ordinary siblings, and the reaction Ard had had to Erd's death... His gut feeling must have been screaming at him to accept the offer.

Ard glanced at Lor, whose eyes were begging and pleading. Giving the former assassin a sad smile, Ard approached Feror, head bowed in submission.

"Ah, finally someone comes to their senses," the god said, pleased. "Take the knee, and I shall make you mine." Ard did as he was told, kneeling in front of him. Feror placed a hand on the top of his head, smiling; gloating at the others, mocking them for foolishly turning down his first grandiose offer. "I certainly hope the rest of you will follow in this young man's footsteps—he is the most sensible of you by far, and—what?"

Ard's hand had latched around Feror's wrist, and sparks of electricity were already leaping about the warlock's body.

"They're dead," Ard roared, "because of you!"

The crack was so loud it made Sheik's ears ring, and the flash so bright it felt like the image had been burned onto his retinas. The force of the blast pushed Feror backwards, knocking into Speil, who remained steady and prevented the god from falling.

As one, they were all released from the paralysis, and they wasted no time in drawing their weapons.

Ard reeled back from the shock, having drained every bit of his remaining energy and was barely able to get back on his feet.

Feror snarled, the skin of his arm nearly burned black. With a cry of anger, he lashed out at Ard. There were no flashing lights at all, just a loud boom and the sight of the warlock flying through the air, landing in a heap behind Lor. The sound of bones cracking were nearly drowned out by his agonised scream. Lor immediately went to him, but Sheik had to focus on the foe at hand...or foes, judging from the way Speil had drawn his own weapons.

"I take it that's a refusal, then," Feror said, pushing away from Speil. "From the lot of you?"

"You're damn right it is," Zelda said boldly, her pose rigid. Her leg must have been hurting, but she was easily pushing the pain aside now. "We will never join you!"

"We will stop you," Link added. "For all those who have died because of your actions!"

"But I can bring them back—"Feror began.

"Victor would never accept being brought back by the likes of _you_ ," Rial spat. "And I'll be damned if I'll let you sully his memory! There is only thing we are after here, and that's vengeance! When I'm done with you, I'll put your head on a pike!"

"Such angry words," Feror said, glaring at them. "Can you back them up deeds and skill?"

Speil moved to stand in front of his creator, shielding him from harm, but Feror's hand on his shoulder gently moved him away. "Father?" he asked.

"I will handle this," Feror said simply. "They have all worked so hard to reach this point, despite several warnings and obstacles. It would be a shame not to give them the fight they desire, would it not?" There was a sadistic glee in his voice that betrayed absolutely no uncertainty—Feror considered the fight already won. "I won't even cheat—no paralysis, no dirty magic. Just the fighting skills Din taught me. Show me how good you all are."

It was all the invitation the group needed, and they charged ahead together. Sheik had Link to his right and Tira to his left. Zelda and Kafei were right behind him, and Rial was in front, sword pointing straight ahead to skewer the living god.

They might as well have tried to attack the sea. Feror didn't use his magic or paralysis to stop them. He simply...moved. He sidestepped out of the way of Rial's attack and swept the general's legs from underneath him.

As Rial went crashing to the ground, Feror appeared next to Link, delivering a vicious punch to the Hero's side, which emptied his lungs. He followed it with a knee to the Link's jaw as he doubled over from the punch. While Link fell, Sheik used Feror's distraction to launch an attack of his own, leaping forward and slashing at him. Feror twisted out of the way, grabbing the front of Sheik's exoskeleton to pull him close. The force of his forehead connecting with Sheik's practically blinded the Sheikah and dropped him to the ground like a sack of potatoes.

He couldn't see what happened next, but judging from the sounds of pained grunts and impacts, the fighting continued...and they were losing badly. He cracked his eyes open, and the one orb that still functioned revealed Tira and Zelda also on the ground, while Kafei was making a series of attacks on Feror with his sword.

At first it appeared that Kafei was actually driving Feror back, but the grin on the god's face revealed it to be an act. Kafei made a thrust, and Feror seized the blade with his hands, not even a cut appearing on his skin, and broke it. The metal snapped like a twig, and Kafei gawped at the handle he suddenly found himself holding. He never even saw windmill kick that knocked him down.

Rial appeared behind Feror, roaring and bringing his sword down with both hands, an attack that would have bifurcated Feror easily had it not been for his quick reaction. He reached up, catching the general's sword pommel and bent over, using Rial's own momentum against him, throwing him on top of Kafei. He followed through with a hard kick to Rial's head with the instep of his foot.

He'd lost track of his swords, but Sheik still had his multitude of knives and daggers. He drew one and tossed it clumsily; he was still dizzy from the head-butt. Feror caught it deftly and threw it back. It embedded itself in Sheik's left shoulder, and he screamed in pain. It was a dumb move, but the result was satisfying as it was only meant to distract.

The blade from Zelda's cane bit into Feror's thigh, and the god winced as it sliced through the muscle there, but that was all he did. It seemed that his burned arm bothered him more than the sword that had most certainly struck his femur by now. He turned and reached out, grabbing Zelda by her throat and hoisting her into the air. Her legs kicked at him, but he paid them no notice, watching with interest as her face began to turn blue from the lack of air.

"So much for the princess of Hyrule, I suppose," Feror said, his face calm though his voice was strained. He looked at Sheik and Kafei in turn. "Watch, bodyguards, as I crush her pretty little neck, it will—"

Kafei burst from underneath Rial's groaning form and barrelled into him. Zelda fell coughing on the floor, but did not remain there long, retrieving her weapon and readying herself.

Sheik was hauled to his feet by Link, whose mouth was bleeding heavily. The Hero spat out a mouthful of blood, and Sheik saw that he'd lost an incisor. Link grabbed the knife handle that was sticking out of Sheik's shoulder and, after receiving a nod, yanked it out. Sheik cursed, biting his lip.

Suddenly, Kafei hit the floor in front of them, eyes fluttering shut, the healthy side of his face red and blue, unconscious. Feror cracked his knuckles, looking none worse for the wear. The wound in his thigh was already healing, though the skin of his arm remained charred and cracked. He gave the group a smile, cracking his neck, waiting as they recovered from the exceptionally one-sided fight.

"I must say I am disappointed," he told them. "After putting so much effort into reaching me here, this is all you have to offer? I could defeat you all in my sleep."

Sheik's eyes found Speil's. The Shadow looked pathetic where he stood, looking indecisive. He noticed Sheik was looking at him, and turned away. That only angered Sheik more—he felt betrayed, and he didn't understand why he was surprised, which fuelled his anger even more. Why did he keep expecting the Shadow to actually do something decent for once in its miserable experience?

"Last chance, mortals," Feror continued. "Join me, or die."

Rial spoke for the group, and Sheik had a feeling the sentiment was shared among them. "Fuck you!"

Feror didn't even bother to pretend to fight fairly this time. Faster than Sheik could even blink, he appeared in front of each of them, punching and kicking them until they were all down, groaning and moaning in pain. He stood over Sheik, nursing his wounded arm and staring down at him with an unreadable expression.

"You were definitely a mistake," he told Sheik. "Probably the first one I ever made. I should never have protected you the way I did."

Sheik blinked up at him, confused. "Wha—?" He was suddenly yanked into the air, Feror's hands around his throat. He choked, trying to pry the god's fingers off. It was like a vice, slowly crushing his windpipe.

"The day your race appeared in Hyrule, chased from your home, my sisters wanted to destroy you all," Feror said through gritted teeth. "But I argued for you, convinced them to let you stay in exchange for protecting their precious royal family...and this is the thanks I get!"

"Father, don't..." Speil's voice said, though it sounded far away.

"Don't bother me when I'm correcting a mistake!" Feror snarled.

"You promised you wouldn't hurt him!" Speil insisted.

"Be quiet and—"

The bolt of lightning was small, barely noticeable until it struck Feror, and it didn't have a fraction of the power Ard had hit Feror with, but Lor's attack caused Feror's concentration to slip, and it allowed Sheik to fumble with the contents of his pocket and retrieve the tube. At this range, it was impossible to miss, and Feror wasn't fast enough to dodge the ball. Sheik's aim was off, however, and it buried itself in Feror's shoulder, right at the border where the burn ended, instead of his heart, which had been the real target. He dropped Sheik and clutched the wound, screaming bloody murder.

"Didn't expect...your own...weapon, did you?" Sheik panted, feeling immensely pleased with himself even if he'd missed. It wasn't every day one got to maim a deity, after all.

Feror straightened, and the expression on his face spoke volumes of the rage within him then. "I've decided not to kill you," he said through gritted teeth. "Instead, I will make you watch as your world is torn apart, as I kill all your friends, and then I will make you immortal...but only so that you will never die from the unimaginable agony I will put you through for the rest of eternity!" Fire burned in his eyes, and Sheik had no doubt he would make good of his threat, but he was too tired to move, his shoulder aching and lungs burning from the lack of air. "I will—gah!"

Feror jerked and gasped as the blade of a sword, jet-black, emerged from his chest. He looked surprised, staring down at the metal in disbelief.

"I _told_ you not to hurt him!" Speil yelled, twisting the sword around before pulling it out of Feror's back.

"You...you..." Feror did not seem to find the words, stumbling backwards and away from his creation, staring at the blood pouring from the wound in his chest with horror.

Sheik felt an odd sense of having seen it before—this reminded him far too much of what had happened in the Forest Temple, when Speil had killed him.

Feror sank to his knees, his breaths shallow as more blood continued pumping out of him. "How...I'm a god, I can't be...killed by mortal weapons..."

Speil regarded his sword—an exact copy of the Master Sword—with an appraising look. "Not a mortal weapon," he said.

The group rose hesitantly to their feet, keeping clear of the Shadow, who stared at his creator with an unusually blank expression on his face. Feror looked shocked, a pool of blood slowly collecting around him.

"You don't...you don't understand what you have done," Feror said softly, staring up at them with wide eyes, tears gathering in their corners. "Everything was going to be...perfect. No more war...no unnecessary deaths...just peace and harmony."

"At the cost of free will?" Tira said. She was bleeding from a cut above her eyebrow, and she was leaning slightly on Zelda.

"It has brought nothing but misery to the world," Feror replied, his voice growing weaker. "All my fault...I was setting things right. But now...now there will be nothing to protect the world...you will be all alone, in the great emptiness..."

"We don't need you," Zelda said, sounding uncharacteristically harsh. "Nor do we want you."

Feror's breath hitched, but he looked up at the princess with a wry smile. "You think I'm terrible? If only you knew...about the things that lurk out there, the monstrosities...you would _beg_ me to end it all." He coughed, and his tunic was spattered with blood drops. "What will you do...without gods?"

"We've done perfectly well without them for the last thousand years," Link muttered.

"And you have only brought destruction and death," Sheik added. "If anything, we do _better_ without them."

"So naive...so innocent," Feror spoke, his breaths extremely shallow now, and his eyelids drooping. "You will always need—"

"Enough!"

Rial's exclamation was so loud and so sudden that no one managed to react when he stepped forward and brought his sword down on Feror's neck, severing his head in one clean stroke. The head rolled a short distance from the body, which remained kneeling, its eyes closed in a seemingly peaceful state.

"That was for Victor," the general said, spitting at it.

There was little time to process what had just happened. For a moment, they all stared dumbly at Feror's head. Then several things happened. First, Feror's remains began to glow, looking like shining gold. Then the Sacred Realm began to reshape itself. The skies darkened, and water began to flow around their feet—the mighty waterfalls appeared in the distance. It slowly reformed itself into the beautiful refuge it had once been. A white marble platform appeared in front of them, and on it stood the familiar shapes of the remaining Sages—Impa, Nabooru, Darunia, Saria and Ruto. There was a noticeable absence of a certain old man—the Sage of Light.

As one, they stepped into the water and gathered around Feror's remains and watched as the body and head began to dissolve as the golden light increased in intensity, growing faint and disappearing, little by little.

They observed the last of Feror's essence fade from the Sacred Realm in silence, the solemnity and significance of the event striking.

Feror, brother of the Goddesses, the last deity, was dead.

* * *

**Soul Remnants**

**Chapter 94**

* * *

The silence in the chamber was palpable. As the last particles of Feror disappeared into nothingness, the gathered individuals looked at each other. It seemed as if no one knew entirely what to say in the wake of the event that had just taken place—which was not strange. How often does one witness a god die, much less in such a manner?

"I don't understand," Zelda said, breaking the silence after no one else seemed inclined to do so, drawing the attention of the Sages and mortals. "If he was a god, then surely he could have destroyed us with a single thought. Instead, he chose to fight us conventionally—why?"

The Sages exchanged uncertain glances, and Saria spoke up. "We don't know," she said. "None of us really understood Feror or why he did the things he did. Only Rauru truly knew him, and he revealed very little." She frowned at the spot where Feror had died. There was nothing left to attest that a deity had once kneeled there. "Perhaps he realised how monstrous his actions were, but was too proud to simply give up."

"Given the way he fought, that is doubtful," Impa noted. "My guess would be that absorbing both Rauru's medal and the Triforce in such rapid succession weakened him severely. The destruction he brought upon the world was merely a prelude to what he would be capable of once he was rested." She shook her head, looking like she was fighting off a headache. "And perhaps he still had some smidgen of honour left by fighting you like he did, though it was far from fair. Had it not been for...him..."

As one, they turned to look at Speil, who was kneeling on the floor with a dejected air about him. He noticed the attention and returned their gazes, his expression neutral. "What?" he asked.

"You killed him," Sheik said, stepping forward. Link reached out to stop him, but Sheik shrugged off the hand on his shoulder, walking until he was standing directly in front of the Shadow, staring down at him. Speil's expression did not change, but he tensed up, as if he was expecting to be attacked at any moment. "Why?"

It was a simple question, and the answer was very much the same.

"I told him not to hurt you."

Another uncomfortable silence filled the chamber. Sheik clenched his fists, frustration already building up within him.

"Why?"

"Because I love you."

"No, you don't," Sheik told him. "You hate me. You have told me as much at every single opportunity ever since you recovered. You tried to steal my body... _you killed me_!"

Common sense would have dictated that he should avoid riling the Shadow up, but Sheik was so angry that nothing could have stopped him from reaching down and hauling the unresisting Speil to his feet by the front of his tunic, shaking him harshly.

"You don't get to do something like this after bringing so much pain and misery to me, to those I love!" he growled. "You don't get to play the big hero and save the world—it's not your role, it never was! You should have joined him in the fight, so we could finally kill _you_ as well!" He shoved Speil away and drew a dagger. "I would have shoved this into your heart and laughed! I would cut your throat and gleefully see your blood coat the ground!"

At some point, tears had begun to run down Sheik's cheeks, but he hardly noticed. All he knew was that he was so angry at Speil right now that he would gladly have let the world end _just_ so he could finally make the Shadow disappear forever. His breath was coming out in short bursts, his shoulders hunched and his free hand clenching and unclenching so hard that his fingernails left deep furrows in his palm. And all the while, Speil simply watched him quietly, his glowing red eyes unreadable as he listened to Sheik's threats.

"Why don't you?" the Shadow finally asked, causing Sheik to pause. "You have a dagger...you can kill me right now. I won't stop you, if it's truly what you want." He let go of his sword and shield. The weapons dissolved into nothing before they hit the floor, and Speil reached out, gently taking Sheik's hand and guiding it until the tip of the dagger was touching his tunic-clad chest. "Here...there is nothing left of me inside you. Killing me here, now, will destroy me forever."

"You're lying," Sheik spat. He wanted nothing more than to plunge the dagger into Speil's skin, but something was stopping him. "You'll just reappear somewhere else, like the Water Temple—"

"I'm not bound to that place any longer, nor to you," Speil said calmly and shook his head. "When Fa—Feror removed me from you, he released me. Kill me, and I will finally disappear."

Was it true? It was impossible to tell. Speil was not acting like himself. He seemed more...calm, and far less sociopathic than before. Why? Had meeting his creator truly affected him this much, or was it something else?

"Why are you doing this?" Sheik asked through clenched teeth, still trying to make his body finish the deed, but the dagger did not move. "What's wrong with you?"

"Something changed when you absorbed me," Speil said simply. "It gave me...new perspective." He helped guide the dagger further, letting it pierce through the layers of clothing until it struck skin, a dark patch quickly beginning to spread around the small wound. "Go on...do it. Kill me."

Sheik looked desperately to the others for help, but there was none to be had. The Sages, Zelda, Tira, Rial...they were all wearing stone masks, as if to say that Sheik was on his own this time. It was not their decision. Kafei was unconscious, though he appeared to be coming to, slowly. Lor and Ard were not even paying attention, with Ard being too injured to focus and Lor too busy tending to him. Link...

The Hero would surely be the biggest proponent to finishing off his evil counterpart once and for all, ending the nightmare that had plagued them ever since Navi had been murdered in the damp chambers of the Water Temple. Link had been with him the entire time, seen the horrible things the Shadow could do...witnessed Sheik's murder at Speil's hands. If anyone would have voted for Sheik stabbing the heart of his mortal enemy, it was Link.

And yet...the Hero of Time could only give Sheik an unsure glance, a mental shrug. It was as if saving the world by stabbing Feror had mitigated every grievance Link had had with it. And Sheik couldn't for the life of him understand why Link wasn't helping him by cleaving Speil in half by now...

That was it, wasn't it? No matter how terrible the things Speil had done to them before, they did not even come close to the act he had performed just now. What was a few deaths and mental torture when compared to saving millions upon millions of lives with a single thrust of his sword? Had Sheik not been the one to bear the brunt of the sadistic glee of the Shadow in the past, would he be doing the same right now, shrugging with uncertainty as to how to proceed? And why was Speil suddenly so willing to die? Feror was dead, but it was clear where Speil's loyalties lay—with himself and his whims, and not the god that had created and been forced to abandon him so long ago. He said he had a new perspective, he claimed. Was he trying to prove to Sheik that he was somehow regretful of his actions now? That he was willing to die for his crimes?

No answer was forthcoming, and Sheik was too stressed to formulate the questions he wanted to ask.

"Why are you doing this?" he managed to force himself to whisper.

"I'm tired," Speil replied in the most earnest voice Sheik had ever heard him use. "My mind never rests—every second of every hour of every day feels like there is a hornet's nest in my head. Before, I could focus on being angry and hating you, but now...it won't permit me to do so. _He_ only made things worse by freeing me." The dark stain on his tunic was growing. "I have done horrible things to you, yes...and this is how I will pay for it. Grant me the peace I crave."

Sheik made another effort to sink the blade further into Speil's chest, but a wave of anger caused him to scream and fling the weapon aside, slugging the Shadow so hard that he was sure his knuckles broke against his jaw. Speil landed in the ankle-high water with a splash, holding the side of his face and looking up at Sheik with shock.

"Wha—"

"No!" Sheik interrupted him. "You don't get to play martyr, and you certainly don't deserve the easy way out! If you were truly repentant, you would find some way of making up for the horrible things you have done!"

Speil hesitated. "I just saved your world," he said incredulously.

Sheik cracked his knuckles, glaring down at him. "It's a start."

Whatever was going to be said next was interrupted by a loud boom. The Sacred Realm began to shake, mirroring what they had felt on the ground back home.

"What is happening?!" Zelda asked.

"With the last deity dead, the Sacred Realm must have become unstable, and the connection to the mortal realm is wavering. The paths are collapsing!" Ruto said.

"It's trying to reassert itself, but failing," Nabooru added.

"Can you fix it?" Tira asked. She was drawing close to Zelda, protective even with the beating she had taken from Feror, a bad limp from either a severely twisted or broken ankle jarring her movements.

"Possibly," Nabooru replied.

"And if you fail?"

"Then the Sacred Realm and the mortal realm will be separated forever," Impa finished, looking at them all. "You must go, now!"

"What?" Link demanded. "You can't ask us to—"

"She's right, brother," Darunia interrupted him. "It ain't safe—you don't belong here! You need to get back home before the gate collapses!"

"We're not leaving you," Zelda said adamantly. "Come with us!"

"We're Sages," Saria said calmly. "Tasked with protecting what the Goddesses have created. Our place is here, princess. You said the world would do just fine without divine intervention...well, now we will have proof of that." She held out a hand and a green orb of light began to glow within her palm. The other Sages did the same, the colours representing their temples lighting up the Sacred Realm. A tiny dot of pure light appeared in front of them, quickly expanding until it was the size of a doorway. "We can only keep this portal open for so long," she said. "Please, go now, and do not fear for us. We will be fine, and with time we will be able to re-establish the connection with the mortal realm."

"So this is goodbye?" Link asked, fearful that this would be the last time he saw his oldest friend.

"No, Link," she said, smiling gently. "It is only until we meet again."

Rial had already picked up Ard and was gently carrying him through the portal, having no desire to remain there any longer, closely followed by Lor.

"What am I supposed to do when we get back?" Zelda asked. "I don't know if I can—"

"You can," Impa said. "This is the role you were born for, Zelda. Lead Hyrule in the dark times ahead to the best of your ability, and you will prosper. Your father would have been proud. Now take her and go!" She directed the last part at Tira, who nodded wordlessly and practically dragged the princess through the portal, leaving only Sheik, Link, Kafei and Speil. Link helped Kafei to stand; the latter still not completely recovered from the assault. Sheik saw that his aunt's eyes were immediately drawn to their rings, and a wry smile appeared on her visage. "Of all the things," she said simply, chuckling. "Kafei."

The scarred young man looked up at her, blinking, and Sheik wasn't sure if he was entirely there.

"You turned out well. I'm happy for you, and proud." She looked at Sheik then. "Of both of you."

Kafei did not reply, he simply nodded and then let his head hang slightly as he seemed to contemplate something. Link hefted him up.

"Sheik, we have to go," the Hero said, though he looked like he wanted to do anything but.

Sheik nodded, but there was still one thing to do... He looked at Speil, who was still sitting in the water.

"Are you truly repentant?" he asked.

"I do not know," Speil replied. "I wish to...not make things right, but not make them worse either."

"Then stay here," Sheik told him. "Stay here and guard this place from any and all intruders. You once said you wanted to take everything that was Link's and make it yours, and be everything he was. Well, if you are even a tenth of the Hero he is, then here's your chance to prove it. Maybe I can even learn to forgive you if you show yourself to be trustworthy." Without waiting for an answer from the Shadow, he looked to the Sages. "You can contain him if he does not, yes?"

"Most definitely," Darunia said, grinning. "He'll know better than to pick a fight with a Goron."

"There you have it, then," Sheik told Speil. "You know what to do."

"And if I don't want to?" Speil asked, though his tone conveyed his interest.

"Then I'll come back here and finish what I started," Sheik said, pointing at the bloodstain on Speil's tunic. With that, he turned and helped Link with Kafei's dead weight, taking one last look at his aunt, and walked through the portal.

* * *

"I'm all right, I swear."

"No, you're not! Look at you! You look like you went up against a troll and lost! You can't even fucking stand!"

"Yes I can, look—ow!"

Sheik emerged from the portal just in time—it closed behind him two seconds after he set foot on solid ground again, disappearing with a loud hum. At first he was disorientated by the darkness and flickering torches, the sound of Elenwe and Kafei bickering the only thing assuring him that he had ended up in the right place.

"There you are," Link's voice said to his right. The outline of the Hero passed him a torch of his own, and he tried to get a good look of where they were. "We're back where we started," the Hero explained.

Sheik turned and saw the silhouettes of Feror's dead followers, a sight that was only worsened by the lack of light. The cold, sterile light from the Nexus was far better, even if it illuminated every detail of their agonised deaths.

 _Speaking of which_ , he thought and shone his light on the gigantic Node. It looked dead, its sheen gone and dull. There were cracks in several places, and all the magic that had been stored in it for a thousand years was gone, leaving behind a hunk of inert black marble.

"So the connection has truly been severed," he said quietly.

"They will repair it, I'm sure," Link said, standing next to him. He shuffled his feet awkwardly. "The Shadow...?"

"Left him there to protect the Realm," Sheik replied. "Gave him a chance to redeem himself."

"You didn't kill him?" the Hero asked, honestly surprised.

Sheik took a deep breath, trying to fight down the nagging feeling that he should have destroyed Speil. "There's been enough death," he said. "And too much blood has been spilled in the Sacred Realm already. Besides, he did save our lives, along with the whole world. I believe that entitles him to a second chance. The Sages will take care of him if he acts up again, however, so I believe I have created a proverbial win-win situation." He sighed. "I wanted to kill him so bad," he continued, whispering. "But I couldn't bring myself to do it, and I cannot for the life of me understand why."

"I think I know why," Link said, just as quietly. "But it's not something I want to talk about."

Sheik understood exactly what the Hero was alluding to. Instead of trying to verbally assure Link, he took hold of the Hero's wrist and made him lift his hand. The silver ring with the inset ruby shone in the torchlight. Sheik lifted his other hand to hold it next to Link's, so that the ruby and the sapphire almost touched.

"That we are wearing these should settle the issue," Sheik said, smiling at Link as his anger and annoyance with Speil finally died down. "I love you," he whispered.

"I love you too," the Hero whispered back.

"Are you _sure_ you're all right?" Elenwe's voice asked.

"Yes, I'm fine, I promise," Kafei's voice replied, trying to reassure her. "Look, he didn't get me in the stomach." There was the sound of cloth rustling.

"Hm, you're right." There was the unmistakeable sound of a fist hitting flesh, and a pained groan that sounded remarkably like one Kafei would make. " _That's_ for going without me, ass!" Silence, and the wet smack of a pair of lips parting after a hard kiss. "And _that_ is for coming back."

Leaving the lovebirds alone in the dark, Link and Sheik found the others close by the gate. Rial and his soldiers and Jedistern were standing in a huddle, discussing something amongst themselves while Zelda and Lor were fussing over Ard, who kept trying to bat their hands away. Tira stood guard close by.

"How is he?" Link asked her as they watched the silver-haired warlock suffer the ministrations of two.

"He should be fine," Tira said, smiling tiredly. "A broken arm and collarbone seems to the worst he suffered. The Lor boy is already suggesting ways to heal it with magic."

"We couldn't have done this without them," Sheik said. "I wonder what would have happened if we'd managed to leave Lumina with him when we had the chance..."

"Best not to think about it, I believe," the bodyguard said, wincing as she tried to keep her weight off her ankle. "We succeeded, that is what matters, nothing else."

"I hope they will get the recognition they deserve," Link added. "Magic saved Lumina—and the world. Maybe that'll make the people come around."

"Perhaps, but it will take time. Centuries of ingrained behaviour doesn't just disappear overnight."

Zelda stood and joined them, looking conflicted. "Everything has changed now. Forty-eight hours ago I was happily under the assumption that the Goddesses were watching over us, acting through the Sages. Now we've learned that not only have they been gone for over a millennium, but that they had a brother, who just tried to destroy the world...and we killed him. I have a migraine already, and I've not even started to think about how I will keep this a secret." She glanced at the group of soldiers. "General Vortan is informing his men to keep quiet about everything they have learned, but I am not so sure it will keep this information from the public. Eventually, someone is going to crack. And I can't even rely on the Sages for guidance—I'm going to cock this up, aren't I?"

"Maybe, maybe not," Link said, pulling the princess into a tight hug. "But let's leave that for another day. Right now, let's just celebrate that we're all still alive."

"You're right," the princess said, composing herself. "I tend to get ahead of myself sometimes. Yes, now is a good time to truly appreciate life."

"Speaking of which, maybe we should get out of here and leave these poor souls to their rest," Sheik said. The ominous whispers of the room had fallen silent, and he hoped that the restless souls of the dead had found peace when the Nexus died.

Everyone agreed with that, and soon they were hobbling their way back up to the surface, their moods considerably more upbeat than when they were descending. Tira and Zelda were leaning on each other for support, while Lor and Rial took up close guard around Ard. The general had failed to be the family Riveth had been to the twins, Sheik knew, but he was trying to make up for it. The soldiers were talking quietly amongst themselves, and he hoped they would keep their tongues still about this. Jedistern seemed to be lost deep in his thoughts, probably coming up with some new invention of his. Kafei and Elenwe hung back from the others, giving each other once-overs generally being a nuisance to each other.

They were all exhausted, and the thought of having to walk several miles to get back to Lumina City was the worst thing Sheik could imagine at the moment. He even wished they hadn't crashed _The Chimera_ , just for that one last flight. Then Jedistern could burn it or blow it up or whatever he wanted to do with the damn thing. But no, it was lying on its side in the woods somewhere, abandoned by the crew that had immediately made for the countryside and shelter from the world ending around them.

Sheik knew that trying to keep quiet about the truth would be almost impossible. Goddesses knew how many people had died that night, or how much damage had been to the world in general. The details of _how_ the near-apocalypse had come about could be hidden, of course, but people would be demanding answers for a long time.

Link cleared his throat and gave him a pointed look.

 _Point taken_ , Sheik thought and abandoned that train of thought. He could worry about this later, just like Zelda would. Hell, they could even commiserate about it.

As they neared the exit, they saw daylight, which lifted their spirits even higher. No red tint, no ground shaking. Just the normal light of the sun having risen in the time they were gone. At least something had gone back to normal, they all thought.

A sound echoed through the passage from the outside—the unmistakeable sound of a horse whinnying impatiently. The others didn't seem too concerned by it apart from being a little surprised, but Sheik recognised it immediately. And judging by the disbelieving look on Link's face, so did he.

"No way!" the Hero exclaimed and took off through the tunnel, disappearing from view. Sheik followed him at a slower pace, a big grin spreading on his face already. It was the only thing that was missing, really.

Blinking from the sharp light reflected by the snow, he found Link glaring harshly at the mare, which simply stared back with big, black eyes. Her hooves dug slightly into the ground, managing to make her look slightly sheepish.

"Where the hell have you been?" Link asked Epona, crossing his arms. "Do you have any idea how worried I was? And what Maladict and Shun?"

It was tempting to point out that Epona wouldn't be able to answer him, but Sheik kept quiet. It was worth it to see the Hero of Time, the mighty warrior and chosen one of the Goddesses, fling himself forward and hug Epona's neck tightly, practically bawling his eyes out. It was an adorable thing to see...though he now wondered if Link would ever love him as much as he loved Epona.

"Right, where to, general?" Zelda asked, trying to ignore the reunion taking place a few feet away.

"The road to Lumina City should be half a day's march in that direction," Rial said, looking none-too-happy about the prospect of walking that distance. "I guess we can beg for a ride from someone there, provided the trade routes have been reopened."

"I've got a better idea," Link said from where he was petting Epona and brushing his fingers through her white mane. "Sheik and I will ride to the city and get more horses for the rest of you." He didn't give anyone time to protest as he hoisted himself onto Epona's back. She didn't seem to have any objections to being ridden bareback. He rode up to Sheik and offered him a hand.

"What about the princess?" Sheik asked, not liking the idea of leaving her alone in the wilderness like this.

"I think I can manage being without you for a day or two, Sheik, don't worry," Zelda assured him. "And I do like the idea of not having to walk the whole way." She indicated her leg. "Actually, most of us do, I feel."

Shaking his head, Sheik took the offered hand and allowed himself to be pulled onto Epona's back—in front of Link. The Hero's arms encircled him, causing him to blush heavily.

"You just wanted to be alone with me," he told Link accusingly as they rode through the trees, the snow already melting from the warm sun. The sky above was blue, no sign of the violent storms or threatening clouds anywhere to be seen. The sun warmed them through their clothes, and the air didn't smell of burning wood or ashes anymore.

"No, that's just happy coincidence," Link said, nuzzling Sheik's cheek. "They weren't going to make it back on foot, especially not Tira. Her ankle looked thrice its original size."

"Hmph," Sheik grunted, not really accepting the answer.

Link chuckled. "Come on, don't be like that...husband."

That made him blush even worse, and Sheik was certain the snow on the ground would hiss and melt if shoved his face into it. Thinking the word and actually hearing it were two completely different things, and now that it had been uttered...well, that was as much of a ceremony as they would ever need. He turned his neck rather painfully and planted a chaste kiss on the Hero's lips.

"As you wish, husband of mine," he replied.

* * *

**Soul Remnants**

**Epilogue**

* * *

The throne room was silent and shrouded in the half-light of the dying afternoon, already growing dark since the sun was hidden by the clouds, which covered up the ruined sky beyond like a lid. No candles, torches or gaslights had been lit today, nor had they for the past month. Thirty days of mourning had been imposed upon Lumina after the announcement of the King's death, and the throne room had been sealed off for the time being.

It was for that exact reason that Rial found himself there, standing by the windows that lined one of the walls, facing into the gardens behind the Royal Palace. Out there, a legion of black-clad nobles, officers, servants and a lucky few other commoners were gathered, watching as the silk-wrapped body of Victor was carried inside his family's crypt, to be laid to rest beside his father. Rial watched it too, feeling empty, trying not to remember the last moments he'd had with the late King of Lumina.

It was so unfair. Only a few seconds were afforded to them, and while they were some of the happiest seconds he'd ever experienced, it wasn't enough, and now he only felt cheated. By Fate, by the Goddesses, by everything.

Outside, the doors to the crypt were firmly locked and the gate lowered, ensuring that no one could break into the tomb. Then the never-ending parade of nobles who insisted on saying a few words about the deceased monarch began, and Rial was not surprised to see that Lady Ise, Patrician of Caldhaven, was first in line. Her speech was short and concise, it seemed, for her mouth only moved for about half a minute before she left the podium. Then came the opportunists who were out to make a good impression on the populace. They would definitely need it in the future.

For a moment, Rial wanted nothing more than to storm that damn podium and give a speech about Victor himself, but he knew that he would not find the words when the moment came. No, watching this from afar suited him just fine.

There was a change in the air in the throne room, and he suddenly knew that he was not alone. He did not turn, knowing there were only three people in Lumina City at the moment that could sneak up on him like that. He was curious about how they'd opened the door since he'd locked and barred it firmly behind him after breaking into the throne room.

"I had a feeling I would find you here," the intruder said, and the timbre of her voice was unmistakeable. Princess Zelda came to stand beside him, wearing simple mourner's robes. "Shouldn't you be out there?" she asked. "First in line?"

Rial smiled wryly. "I was politely asked to stay away. Apparently, there are certain factions within the populace who still believe that _I_ started the civil war along with my aunt and that we only converted to fighting for the King in the latter stages of the war. My appearance at Victor's funeral would be in poor taste, according to them."

"I'm sorry, general," the princess said, sounding earnest. "I cannot believe they treat you like this, after everything you've done."

"Say what you will about Feror...or Rehm, as he was at the time, but he was damn good about spreading lies and disinformation," he replied, shaking his head slightly. "Brainwashed half the country into hating me and those who fought for me from the beginning. Not that it matters, really. I said my goodbyes to Victor when he was still alive...and on the airship. I'd rather not be surrounded by the false sentiments you can be damn sure they're exhibiting down there. Bunch of hypocrites..."

The princess didn't say anything for a while, watching the proceedings below.

"What happens now?" she finally asked. "If the King had no heirs..."

"The noble family with the closest blood ties to Victor's house will be chosen to succeed him," Rial answered. "If none can be found, or there are several people with the same right to claim the throne, an election will be held. How they're going to do that and who will be eligible to vote, I have no idea, nor do I particularly care."

"How come?"

"I'm not planning on sticking around for long afterwards," he admitted. She was the first person to know; he'd made his decision the night before, after drinking more than his fair share of wine. He wanted to claim to have considered all details carefully, but truth be told he just wanted to get away, and it didn't matter to where. "They only need me to stay to keep the peace until after the new royal family is chosen, after which they will most likely force me into retirement with a very generous pension."

"Retire? But you're in your prime, and you have proven that Lumina needs people like you in its military," Zelda said, surprised.

"They don't trust me with the position, nor do they like what could happen if the election does not go well," he replied, shrugging. "I'm the only remaining general in the country, and there are very clear guidelines to the chain of command during times of war and martial law." When he'd found out, he'd nearly fainted. The princess was listening with interest. "When Eggard surrendered the city to our forces, I was, technically, within my rights to declare myself the supreme ruler of Lumina...at least until the war ended."

"So...for the two days between Victor's death and our return to the city, you were in charge of all of Lumina?" Zelda asked, smiling slightly. "That is...interesting."

"Mortifying, in my opinion," Rial said, chuckling. "If I'd known I would have demoted myself on the spot. I suppose they're afraid that I'll seize power if I disagree with the outcome of the election. A more ridiculous notion I will never hear."

"I don't think I've ever met a man so afraid of taking power," Zelda said, looking at him. "Some would laugh, but I find it admirable. It is easy to be seduced by it."

"I never wanted to be a general either," he said. "I was perfectly happy as a captain, and I would gladly have gone back to the rank once the war ended and Victor was rescued, but..." He sighed. "But here I am, High General of the Royal Army of Lumina. It makes me shudder just to think about it."

"I read or heard a quote by someone once," she said. "I cannot remember it exactly, but it was something about people having greatness thrust upon them rather than seizing it themselves. I'm tempted to think they were right."

"They can have it back, I don't want it," he said bitterly.

"You said you were leaving after the new royal family has been chosen?" Zelda said, quickly changing the subject. "Going home to your family?"

He laughed at that, but it was a hollow, humourless laugh, and it clearly made her uncomfortable, for which he felt slightly bad. "What remains of my family wants nothing to do with me," he told her.

"What?" she asked. "Why?"

"Rehm," he said simply. "They're part of the population who still believe that I'm a traitor. A very strongly worded letter was sent to me about family legacy, following my traitor aunt's footsteps and so on and so forth. I guess I could try and send a letter explaining things to them, but if they were willing to believe what Rehm told them to begin with I don't think it will help, so..."

"I'm sorry," the princess said again. "I cannot imagine what it must feel like to be rejected by one's own family..."

Not that she has any family left to be rejected by, Rial told himself, but kept his mouth from forming the words, feeling guilty. It wasn't her fault that his reputation had been so utterly ruined. He'd managed that perfectly fine on his own.

"I would do it all again, though, if it meant I could get a second chance to save him," he heard himself say.

"I have no doubt," she said, patting his shoulder. "Given any thoughts to where you will go when you leave?"

"Not really," he admitted. "I've never left Lumina, and I have no idea what awaits me out there. Maybe I will just travel for a while, see what I can find."

She nodded. "That certainly sounds like fun. You can ask Sheik and Link for ideas of where to go, as I hear they've visited quite a few places after the war in Hyrule. Speaking of which, if you should ever decide to settle down again, there will always be a place for you in my kingdom."

He looked at her, surprised. She owed him nothing. If anything, he owed _her_ more than he would ever be able to repay. She noticed his expression and chuckled.

"Surprised?"

"A bit," he said. "I'm not really of much use—"

"Most of my senior military officers were killed during the seven-year war, general," she said. "I've been trying to replenish the ranks since then, but experienced leaders are hard to come by, and many of the lower-ranking officers have turned down their commissions when I've offered them. I could use someone with your experience and skill set."

"Won't the people be suspicious of a human suddenly taking a high position of command in the Hyrulian army?"

"Not when I tell them exactly _why_ I appoint you," she replied. "Given the current state of the world, they will gladly accept it. They also know that I do not trust easily, and I have no intention of allowing any of Rehm's lies to flourish within my own borders. My people will know your story and that you are an honourable man."

He felt overwhelmed by the offer and her support, and it was very tempting to take her up on it. "Thank you, but—"

"Like I said, you are always welcome in my kingdom," she repeated. "Take some time to think about it—years, if you must."

"Thank you," he said, suddenly speechless.

"You're welcome," she said, patting his shoulder once more and turning towards the door. "I should leave. My presence will be expected at the funeral, and I'm sure Tira is beside herself with worry looking for me."

"She doesn't know you're here?" he asked.

"I like to keep her on her toes," Zelda said, winking. "In more ways than one."

He blushed. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Certainly."

"How did you get in here? I locked the door and barred it."

She looked thoughtful, then pulled up the hood of her robes and covered the bottom half of her face with her hand. "Sheikah secrets," she said, laughing. As she unbarred and unlocked the door and left the throne room, Rial could definitely see the resemblance to Sheik in her disguise.

Smiling faintly to himself, he turned back to the funeral. He felt more...confident about the future now, though he knew he had many hardships left to face before he could leave it all behind. He spotted Princess Zelda emerging from the palace, closely followed by her bodyguard—who seemed to be fussing over the princess...or possibly scolding her—to join the service.

Taking a deep breath, he looked to the gated crypt, smiling softly.

"Goodbye, Victor. For real, this time."

* * *

"I still think this is a bad idea."

Lor's protests had fallen on deaf ears ever since they'd left Lumina City in the middle of the night, much to the former assassin's chagrin. He was all in favour of the idea of leaving Lumina behind, especially after receiving a threatening note from what remained of the assassin's guild, which said that vengeance would be visited upon him for his part in the burning of the guild hall in Ironhill, but he was more in favour of waiting until Ard had healed completely.

His arm was coming along just fine, especially after Lor had tried his hand at healing magic once more, but the collarbone had proven...difficult. In the end, Angen and Agneta had concluded that as long as they left it alone and Ard avoided physical exertion that could do more damage, he would be fine within another few weeks.

That was why they didn't gallop along the highway, but took it at a slow trot. They had left in the middle of the night, and it was late afternoon now. They had been slowed down a few times due to the highway being in a terrible state in several places. Feror's attempt at reforming the world had taken its toll, and they were seeing the effects almost everywhere.

Fissures and crevices had opened all over Lumina, some as large as canyons. Countless villages had burned in fires from the lightning strikes, and some had simply...disappeared, swallowed by the earth itself. The fine weather that had greeted them upon emerging from the Hall of Silence several weeks before had been a unique occurrence, it seemed, for the sky had been hidden from view ever since by yellow-grey clouds, and black rain filled with ashes had begun to fall intermittently, staining the places it fell. Whenever a break in the cloud layer appeared, there was no sunlight that filtered through. The sky beyond was a sickly green. Whatever Feror had done, the ramifications would be felt for a long time. They could only hope that the world would recover with time.

And yet here they were, on their way to the border. Ard had left behind a letter for Rial, which explained that they had left to find somewhere more tolerant of mages and warlocks than Lumina. Lor had wanted Ard to say goodbye to the general and the others in person, but the silver-haired teen had simply shaken his head and continued packing.

Personal grievances aside, it felt good to finally be on their way after discussing it for weeks. As they had told each other so many times, there really was nothing left for them in Lumina. The world-ending threat may have been defeated, but that would do nothing for the hatred for magic that Feror had sown for so long. There was no escaping it, and with the threat of the assassins looming over them, it only made sense.

Not to mention the fact that it felt like they were both moving on after the deaths of those they cared about. Lor would never forget Jeryd, and Ard would never forget Erd or General Riveth, but staying in Lumina would never allow those scars to heal.

They stopped by a river crossing and rested a while. Seeing no one nearby, Lor took the chance and used his magic to light a fire, and they had a very late lunch. No conversation took place. Lor had learned quickly that Ard only spoke these days if he absolutely had to. On the other hand, words were no longer needed.

Something had happened in the Hall of Silence. Combining their magic and skills to activate the Nexus had done something to both of them. It was like their powers had been...intertwined, and a strange sort of connection had formed between them. It was subtle—they could not read each other's minds or predict their actions, but they could... _feel_ each other. It was like a comforting presence in the back of each other's minds, reassuring.

Whenever they used magic, even when separated by several rooms, they knew exactly which spell and how powerful it was.

Even better was the fact that now that their powers were apparently combined, so did their skills. Slowly. Ard was learning to control his magic far better than he could before, without any instruction, and Lor was able to draw much more energy than before. Ard was still like a beacon in that regard, but being able to unleash far more powerful spells felt wonderful.

Their skill with weaving magic wasn't the only thing affected by the connection either. Their relationship had changed. Suddenly, everything they did together felt a thousand times more intimate, and something as simple as a kiss could generate sparks between them, both literally and figuratively. Lor could only imagine what would happen once Ard had healed enough for them to do something more... He blushed at the mere thought.

Their eyes met by the fire, and the blush that was staining the visible parts of Ard's face behind the mask told Lor that he'd either been thinking the exact same thing...or sensing it through their bond. Grinning, Lor leaned over and gently yanked the mask down and planted an innocent kiss on Ard's cheek.

Back on their horses, they continued towards the border. It would take them at least a week or two to reach it, but what lay behind it was worth the hassle. The most important thing of all, in fact, for the two of them. Something they had been denied for as long as they could both remember.

Freedom.

* * *

"You saved her," Sheik said.

Kafei scowled, like he'd just been accused of an unsavoury crime. He ignored Elenwe's laughter. She tried to make it subtle, but after taking a look at his face it had turned into an outright cackle. He continued packing his equipment and weapons.

"I never thought I would see the day."

"It was an accident," Kafei said, glaring at Sheik. "I just wanted to be back on the offensive. The fact that she happened to be in his clutches at the time was a mere coincidence."

Sheik remained seated on the large shipping crate he'd perched himself on. He'd found them both in one of the many warehouses in Lumina City, getting ready to move on. He'd suspected that the two assassins would attempt to leave in the night sooner or later, like Ard and Lor, but he would not abide his cousin disappearing again without a proper farewell.

"Keep saying that," Sheik said, "but I know what I saw."

"And what was it you saw?" Elenwe asked, deciding that she was going to be of no help to her lover in this discussion.

"I saw Kafei the Sheikah hurling himself at a mad god to save Princess Zelda of Hyrule from his clutches." It was much too fun to see the conflicted anger on Kafei's face. "How does it feel, saving someone you claim to hate so much?"

"I don't _hate_ her," Kafei said, removing his hood. Sheik was surprised to see that his cousin's hair had been cut short, and that Kafei had decided not to dye it anymore. Now the top of his head was a dark, golden blonde again, like it'd been back when they were both being trained by Impa. Kafei didn't notice the frown that grew on his cousin's face when his thoughts had turned to Impa, and continued speaking, "I just never _liked_ her. You may have been content with your life's path being chosen for you before you were even born, but I wasn't, and she presumed far too much."

"She was a child," Sheik said quietly, trying to regroup. He'd been trying not to think about his aunt or the other Sages ever since they had returned from the Sacred Realm, and had been relatively successful up to now.

"No excuse," Kafei said. He scratched the scarred side of his face and turned to face Sheik. "What's the matter?"

"I just...thought of Impa," Sheik said.

"She'll be fine," Kafei said firmly. "You of all people should know that. They'll find a way to open the gate to our world again, sooner or later."

"I know," Sheik said, nodding. "It's just...difficult, you know?"

"Yeah, I know," his cousin replied. He said no more, disinterested in speaking of his aunt at any length. She may have allowed him to leave all those years ago, but it would never make up for the fact that she had murdered his parents. Still, at least there weren't any outright hostility to be heard from the elder Sheikah this time, neither about Zelda or Impa. It was a step forward, he supposed.

"Where will you go now?" Sheik asked after watching the two pack in silence for a few minutes. He'd hoped to be able to persuade them to come back to Hyrule, certain that Zelda would grant them amnesty, but now the thought seemed silly. Kafei was finished with Hyrule, and Elenwe seemed to have no desire to go there either.

"Wherever there are bad people in need of killing," Elenwe replied, grinning up at him. "We're going to be a bit more...careful about which contracts we take from now on, though. We'd rather not start another war."

"No royalty unless they are utter bastards," Kafei supplied.

"Preferably slavers and the like."

"I see," Sheik said. "Will you at least stay in contact?"

"I will write when I can," Kafei said, stopping to give his cousin a smile. "I have no intention of losing you again."

Sheik returned it, nodding. "I'll make sure Kaiza knows how to track you."

"Make sure she knows not to peck out my eyes as well, please. I'm rather fond of them."

They laughed, but it felt hollow. Sheik didn't want them to leave, didn't want his last blood relative in the world to disappear again. Yet, he didn't want to be selfish either. He knew Kafei would never be able to settle down in any traditional way, at least not for a long time, and especially not in Hyrule. He was simply too...well, damaged felt like a terrible term to use, but it seem to fit. At least Elenwe was with him to keep him grounded. Kafei was truly happy with her, and for that Sheik was grateful.

"There's something I've been meaning to say," Kafei said suddenly, fishing around in his pack for something. "I guess _you're_ technically the head of the clan now, but you can't do on yourself, else it'll look stupid."

"What are you talking about?" Sheik asked, jumping down from the crate and stalking over to his cousin. Once he saw what Kafei had been looking for, he paused. It had been such a non-issue for so long that he'd forgotten about it, but seeing them now was a reminder that he was missing something very crucial in his role as a Sheikah.

Where Kafei had gotten the earrings from, he didn't know, but they did look to be of the right metals and sizes. There were three of them. One bronze, one silver and one gold.

"I guess it goes without saying that you've come of age and gone through your rite of passage as a true Sheikah," Kafei said, pointing at the bronze ring. "Great deeds...well, you've performed more than enough of them just in Hyrule, but I feel you've gone over and beyond the call of duty here in Lumina as well," he continued, indicating the silver ring. "And...with Impa being a Sage and myself having rejected the ways of our people, the burden of leadership falls to you, even if it's only symbolic at this point," he finished, picking up the golden ring. It shone in the lamplight. "So...which one would you like first?"

* * *

By the time they emerged from the warehouse several hours later and Elenwe and Kafei were saddling their horses, dawn was approaching. The layer of clouds was as thick as ever, and it looked to be yet another dull, cold day. Still, Sheik was beaming as they headed for one of the smaller city gates, leading the horses. His ears stung where Kafei had pierced them. The bronze and silver rings hung from his left while the gold one that denoted him as the current leader of the Sheikah hung from his right. He had almost resigned himself to never receiving the symbols given the state of their people, and had tried to convince himself that it didn't matter...but now that he had them, he finally felt...complete? He struggled to find the words to describe how he was feeling.

The time it took them to reach the gate was far too short, and Sheik found himself wishing he'd had more time with both of them. Kafei went ahead and cleared their exit with the guards, who opened the gate.

"Someone's happy," Elenwe noted, putting an arm around his shoulder, careful not to accidentally jangle his newly acquired ornaments and hugged him close. "Been wanting these for a while, huh?"

"More than I thought," Sheik admitted. "Gives me a sort of...closure, if that makes sense."

"I can see it that way, yes," the Gerudo said, kissing his cheek before mounting her horse, ignoring Kafei's attempt to help her up. She swung herself into the saddle with little difficulty, looking every bit as strong and full of grace even with her injuries and missing arm. "Hero's gonna love 'em, I think. They go well with the other jewellery," she said, referring to the ring on Sheik's finger. "When did he ask, anyway?"

"Just before we crashed, more or less," Sheik said, fastening one of her saddlebags while she did the other. "Seemed as good a time as any to accept, given how uncertain we were about our survival. He was quite awkward about it, but sweet."

"How cute," she said, smiling. "I can only hope my own proposal will match it." There was a pointed look aimed at the eldest Sheikah, which was promptly ignored in favour of something apparently very interesting in his pack. "Eh, maybe we'll do it the other way around."

Kafei finished fastening his bags and did one last check of their packs. Then he walked over to Sheik, and the two stared at each other for a little while, each studying and memorising the other's features. Neither of them knew when they'd see each other again, if they even would, and they wanted as much to remember them by as possible. Then they smiled and embraced each other tightly.

"Be safe out there," Sheik whispered.

"You too," Kafei whispered back. "Love you, cousin, despite everything."

"And I you."

They parted, and Kafei climbed into his saddle as Sheik stepped back to give them space.

"You take care of him, you hear?" Sheik told Elenwe. "Don't let him do anything stupid."

"I'll try," she said with a shrug. "Can't guarantee I'll be able to stop him every time, but I'll make sure to fish him out whatever trouble he gets himself into."

"That's all I ask," Sheik said, grinning.

"And I shall obey, oh great and wise Master of the Sheikah," Elenwe replied, saluting. "I could say the same to you about that Hero of yours. Take good care of him, he's one of a kind." She dug her heels into her mount's side. "See you around, Blondie!" With that she was speeding through the gate of Lumina City, kicking up dust and grey snow in her wake. The two cousins exchanged eye-rolling glances.

"Like she said," Kafei told him. "See you around, Sheik."

"See you around, Kafei."

He watched them through the gate until he could no longer make them out on the highway, and turned on his heels, heading back towards the palace. The place still showed signs of having been prepared for a siege, and the garrisons were still full of rebel soldiers, where they were intended to stay until Rial disbanded the army after the election. Still, it was relatively peaceful, even with increased traffic in the streets as vendors and merchants began to prepare for the day.

By some miracle, the city had been spared any of the destruction that had swept through large parts of Lumina. The only sign of trouble was a wide crevice that had opened in the plains to the north of the city. Otherwise nothing else had happened. No fires, no nothing.

It was nice to be able to walk through the streets again, remembering the last time he'd been there. He'd been a fugitive, accused of assassinating King Robar. They'd barely escaped, he and Link, and had gotten separated. Bad memories, which he tried to forget.

He arrived at the palace and entered the building directly across from it. The hotel still stood, and they'd been given the same room as last time. All the officers and dignitaries from Hyrule had been housed in the hotel after the palace had been closed once Victor's death was announced. It had been opened a few days before in order to proceed with the King's funeral, but closed afterwards. It would remain locked until a new royal family was chosen.

He climbed the stairs and stole inside his and Link's room. The Hero was snoring in the bed, and Sheik chuckled to himself as he undressed and climbed in, deciding that he could get a few hours of sleep in before they had to get up. He was freezing, he realised, and tried to keep to his side of the bed so he wouldn't disturb Link. No such luck, as the Hero stopped snoring and turned to face him, his arms snaking around Sheik and pulling him close. Link was so warm it felt like he had his back to a fire. He shivered as the Hero placed feather-light kisses along his shoulder and neck.

"They left?" his gruff voice, laced with sleep, asked.

"Yes," Sheik replied, feeling guilty for not informing Link. He hadn't even considered it at the moment, and now he just felt selfish.

"...wish I could've said goodbye," the Hero mumbled against throat.

"They were in a hurry," Sheik tried to explain, unable to keep himself from gasping and hissing when Link suddenly found the new earrings.

"What're these?" Link asked, the haze of sleep clearing up a little. "They're pretty."

"Kafei gave me them—ah," Sheik said, biting back a moan. His ears were so tender and sensitive, and it was painful and...surprisingly enjoyable at the same time when Link played with the rings. "Bronze for adulthood, silver for a great deed, gold for leadership. I am the clan leader now, after all."

"I see," Link said, leaning up so he could kiss Sheik on the lips. "Congratulations."

"Thank you," Sheik said, smiling up at him. He was about to kiss Link when his body rebelled and decided that yawning was a far better use of his time, and his eyes suddenly felt very heavy. "Not to be a bore, but I'm tired," he said. "Can we—"

He was back to being spooned by Link before he could finish the sentence, and was slowly being warmed by Link's body heat. Yawning again, Sheik snuggled back against his husband (it still felt strange to refer to Link by that title) and closed his eyes, and quickly fell asleep.

For the first time since the Water Temple, his dreams were not haunted by shadows.

* * *

Zelda and her army were preparing to leave Lumina City and begin the long march home. The area around the main gate was pure chaos, with soldiers wandering everywhere and columns beginning to form. The inhabitants of the city unanimously celebrated their departure, though they were divided in half on whether or not they were thankful for Hyrule's interference in the war. There were no violent incidents, however, and there were many who came to see the soldiers off, thanking them for their efforts.

Zelda was overseeing the last preparations from atop the city walls, mentally noting that they were far fewer in number than when they had first stormed the border. It saddened her, knowing that so many had given their lives...but on the other hand, it had been for a worthy cause. What life is more honourable than one given to save the world?

"When are we leaving?"

She looked behind her, spotting Sheik and Link emerging from the staircase, both clad in simple travelling outfits. It was going to be a long ride, and the key to making it a pleasant trip was to wear comfortable clothes. She had put her role as princess aside that day and was wearing similar clothes herself, because why shouldn't she be comfortable too?

"An hour, perhaps," she said. "We are still waiting for a few stragglers in the city. There were celebrations last night, apparently, and quite a lot of ale and wine was consumed. I daresay a few of the whorehouses were raided as well." Tira, Link and Sheik all balked when said the word, to which she rolled her eyes. "I refuse to act the princess when we've got weeks and weeks of marching ahead of us, and that means I get to say things like that. I get to curse, too! Fu—"

"Okay, we get it!" Link interrupted her.

"We're just not used to hearing such language from you," Sheik said, holding up his hands in a gesture of peace. His earrings were very noticeable, even after having a full week to get used to seeing them on him. She was glad that Kafei had stepped up and given Sheik the recognition he deserved, even if there were only two Sheikah left in the world. She shook her head, trying to get her mind off the eldest Sheikah.

It was difficult, trying to bury the dislike and outright hatred she'd felt for Sheik's cousin for so many years. She could not blame him for leaving, especially not after learning the truth of his parents, but the near-death of Sheik...still unacceptable. She felt she showed great restraint when she did not point out to anyone that Kafei was the true assassin of King Robar, instead letting him go about his business and leave. It would have upset Sheik as well, if Kafei were arrested, so that was another point against the idea.

"Get used to it, then," she said, smiling at her two brothers before turning back to watching the preparations. The smile vanished soon after.

The people down there...none of them knew what had truly transpired a month and a half before, the night when the earth had opened up and lightning set fire to the world. Many seemed to think of it as freak weather, while others said the Goddesses were angry. Everyone agreed it had been horrifying, however, and that the entire world had been affected.

None of them can know, she thought. She was still feeling the effects of the revelations that had come to light during their conversation with Feror and Rauru, the knowledge that everything she had been taught about the Goddesses was wrong.

They were dead. Gone. Non-existent. Feror had now joined them, leaving the world with no gods of any kind to watch over it, alone and unprotected. If such knowledge became commonplace, chaos would break out. The assuring feeling of being protected by divine beings was a security many sought to, especially in these dark days of black rain and no sun. Scouts had been sent in all directions from Lumina, many reporting back that things looked just as bad in the neighbouring countries. People needed hope and assurance that they were being watched over now more than ever, and no matter how guilty she felt for hiding the truth, she had to endure it. The greater good was a term she was loath to use, but in this case it was the only right one to use. It truly was for the world's greater good that it went on believing that there were gods out there to protect them.

She did not wish to imagine how badly Hyrule had been hit. She would have to dispatch a carrier bird once they got underway.

She spotted Link's easily recognisable horse on the ground, along with Sheik's...and their offspring between them. "How is Epona and her family?" she asked, wanting to get her mind off the depressing subject.

"Just fine," Link said. "I'm not sure what Feror did, but that veil he put up to prevent the Sages from spying on him seemed to have affected the magic in Epona's Song as well. I think she couldn't hear it, and have been searching for us this whole year." He peered over the wall, smiling down at the horses. "I thought I'd never see her again."

They chatted about that for a while, waiting for the army below to get ready.

Sheik found himself staring up at the ugly clouds above them, wondering if they would ever clear up. He'd spoken with Jedistern a few days earlier as the man had prepared to go back to his workshop near Ironhill, and the engineer had theorised that the many fires that had burned all over the world that night had affected the weather to a very significant degree. He could not be sure, but he believed that, given time, it would clear up. Sheik hoped it would.

The memory of that night brought many images to his mind, but the one he'd been unable to forget lately was that of Speil, watching him forlornly as he went through the portal, leaving the Shadow stranded in the Sacred Realm with the Sages. If Speil had truly changed, as he claimed, then Sheik might one day be able to forgive him. If not...well, the Sages would surely take care of him. Still, that one mental image haunted him, and he found it difficult to not think about the Shadow at least a couple of times a day. Link wasn't happy about this at all, but he made an effort to understand why, and did not try to interfere or make him forget. Having saved the world, he supposed Speil had earned a few of his thoughts every now and then.

"Where are you going?" Zelda suddenly asked, having noticed his silence and lack of participation in the conversation.

"What?" he asked.

"When we leave," she clarified. "I am taking the army home to Hyrule, but I'm not sure what you two will be doing." When both of them looked uncertain, she laughed. "I've a good mind to lock you both in a tower to keep you out of trouble, but I have a feeling you'd just be grateful for the privacy, so my plan won't work." She was becoming proficient at making her adopted brothers blush these days, much to their annoyance. "So? Where are you heading? I can't make you go anywhere you don't to, after all."

Link and Sheik had discussed this earlier that week, and it had not lasted long.

"We're going back to Hyrule with you," Link said.

"We have been gone for a long time," Sheik added. "It would be nice to see home again."

"Maybe take a look at some of the drafts for the Sheikah manor I have had made?" she suggested. Sheik's expression turned sour immediately, much to her delight. House Sheikah was now a noble house in Hyrule, and it needed a seat for its head. Sheik hated her for doing that to him, but she was damn well going to do her part to preserve the heritage of his people, one way or another. "Come, Sheik, you will have to take a look sooner or later."

"Fine," he sighed.

"As for you," she said and turned to Tira, who suddenly looked panicked. "What are you going to do?"

"Princess?" the warrior asked. Did she think Zelda was going to send her away?

"Well, your appointment to my bodyguard was a bit of an improvised happening, as well as what happened after... I spoke with your captain a few days ago, and he says he misses your sword in his ranks. I told him that you had a choice to make concerning this, and I am giving it to you now: will you stay on as my bodyguard, or do you wish to go back to your friends in the infantry?"

It was unfair to put her on the spot like that, Zelda knew, but the princess wanted an answer straight away. She'd grown very attached to Tira, and if she wished to go back to the regular army and leave Zelda's side, then the princess wanted it over and done with as fast as possible to minimise the hurt.

To her credit, Tira simply took a look at the army, and then at her, and said "I have sworn to protect you with my life, and I will continue to do so...if you will have me."

"Of course," Zelda said, standing up on her toes to kiss Tira chastely on the lips. "Thank you."

"Am I interrupting something?"

They all turned as one and found Rial standing awkwardly by the stairwell, looking very uncomfortable.

"Not at all, general," Zelda assured him, giving Tira a smile that only enhanced the redness of her cheeks. "What can I do for you?"

"Nothing," he said. "I was just hoping to bid you proper farewell. I owe you a large debt of gratitude for helping us in the war."

"Well, technically, I came here for those two," she said, pointing at Sheik and Link. "I didn't come with the intention to fight in a civil war."

"Nevertheless, I am grateful, and so is Lumina, even if it doesn't seem like it. They'll realise it sooner or later. And that goes for the rest of you as well," he said, looking at the other three. "Without you, this war would most likely have gone very differently. If there is anything I can do to return the favour, ever, do not hesitate to let me know."

"As long as you promise to come to Hyrule when you judge the time to be right," Zelda reminded him. "We'll be waiting."

That farewell was short as well. Rial had never been a man of many words to begin with, so he simply shook their hands, kissed Zelda's and disappeared down the stairs again. Some time later, a horn was blown to signal that the army had finished assembling and was ready to move at any time.

They rode at the very front of the long, long column of soldiers and wagons, which took up the entirety of the highway, heading straight for the border. They were antsy, like they could not get out of Lumina fast enough. Or so it felt, anyway.

* * *

In his quarters, Rial picked up the letter from Ard, read through it again for the umpteenth time and put it down. He'd let the boy down, he knew, and the guilt would stay with him for the rest of his life. He was happy, though, for at least Ard had gotten away from Lumina now, and Lor was with him. If anyone could make it out all right, it was them. He wished them both long and happy lives.

There was a knock on his door. Angen and Agneta entered, carrying bottles of an indeterminate alcoholic beverage and a pack of cards. They spent the next few hours drinking, reminiscing and trying to fleece each other. It had become a tradition for them to do this at least once a week. It dulled the hurt that Rial felt whenever he was alone, allowing him to focus on the important things.

"So," Angen said, swaying slightly in his seat. "How'd that ship crash, anyway?"

"Long story," Rial told him. He was pleasantly absentminded at the moment.

"We've got time," Agneta said, shuffling the cards and dealing them out. "Now, let me show you the quickest way to get your opponents naked..."

* * *

It felt strange to set foot outside of Lumina again. It was like a weight had been lifted off Sheik's shoulders as they passed through the massive border gates and sat foot on the plains outside. The only thing in sight was the wide, open world as it opened before them. Even while scarred, it was beautiful, in Sheik's opinion. He and Link looked at each other, smiling. They had survived. A thousand words passed between them in that one look...and nothing needed to be said out loud.

"Come on, you two," Zelda said, some distance ahead of them. "Let's go home!"

* * *

**The End**


End file.
